10-31-2015, 04:29 PM
Her question startles him away from deep thought. The silence between them is gentle and soothing (but once it breaks, he revels in the chaos of words and sound that ensues), but her voice is likewise when she speaks. Her question almost causes a sinister chuckle from his mouth, but he transforms it into a deep, rumbling, light laugh instead. The trickster has been in Beqanna his entire life (although he has been past Beqanna a few times as well) and to count the years of his life is a tricky thing. He prefers to go by events in his life rather than seasons.
His left ear (the one that is defective, who’s sounds are empty and silent) twitches as he thinks, a habit he has adopted over his lifetime. “I’ve known Beqanna my whole life – born and raised.” He smiles and his tricks soften the edges of the turn of his lips. “Echo Trails, however, I have only ever passed by until recently.” He shrugs, expecting her to possibly ask why he might decide to call it home now. “The territory seemed empty and I decided to solve that problem,” he says, gaze turning toward the edges of the land.
The trickster smiles as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The scents of Echo Trails are comforting and simple (the sharpness of pine trees, the clarity of a nearby brook, the musk of growing and dying wood vegetation, the warmth of forest creatures, the briskness of a breeze blowing through the trees) and as he fills his lungs, he finds his heart beating softer to match the beat of the earth under his feet.
Gesturing closer inside, the trickster begins the tour. It isn’t an incredibly long one – the majority of the land is populated by generous woodland with weaving, adventurous trails. A few bubbly streams wind between the trails and the forest is dotted with a decent number of sunny clearings full of tall grass. All in all, it is a safe-feeling place that offers no allegiance toward darkness or pure lightness. When they come to the end of their tour, he turns toward her. “I certainly hope you’ll like it here, Miss Keeva. Do you have any questions?”
His left ear (the one that is defective, who’s sounds are empty and silent) twitches as he thinks, a habit he has adopted over his lifetime. “I’ve known Beqanna my whole life – born and raised.” He smiles and his tricks soften the edges of the turn of his lips. “Echo Trails, however, I have only ever passed by until recently.” He shrugs, expecting her to possibly ask why he might decide to call it home now. “The territory seemed empty and I decided to solve that problem,” he says, gaze turning toward the edges of the land.
The trickster smiles as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The scents of Echo Trails are comforting and simple (the sharpness of pine trees, the clarity of a nearby brook, the musk of growing and dying wood vegetation, the warmth of forest creatures, the briskness of a breeze blowing through the trees) and as he fills his lungs, he finds his heart beating softer to match the beat of the earth under his feet.
Gesturing closer inside, the trickster begins the tour. It isn’t an incredibly long one – the majority of the land is populated by generous woodland with weaving, adventurous trails. A few bubbly streams wind between the trails and the forest is dotted with a decent number of sunny clearings full of tall grass. All in all, it is a safe-feeling place that offers no allegiance toward darkness or pure lightness. When they come to the end of their tour, he turns toward her. “I certainly hope you’ll like it here, Miss Keeva. Do you have any questions?”
