♦ Fynnegan ♦
I can’t say there are many things I enjoy less than an unwarranted verbal lashing. This orange tinted lass before me was very good are handing them out it would seem. She had first not hid her surprise at my size well, which made my blood pressure rise, but I contained myself well. I wish I hadn’t- considering how she treated my helpful greeting. There I was giving up my time and my energy to help her- no manors. Nope, I need this not- I should have gone strait to dale, to meet weir and his friends. But I didn’t and she greeted me poorly; I should have let me temper go.
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I pin my ears at her razor sharp words, the nerve of this lass. I think I shall take my leave. I feel spring creeping up and I would rather not waste any more of my favorite season with this failed social interactions. I nod curtly; I don’t bother to hold my displeasure with her. ”Well, then… if that is how you feel, good day.” I turn away back the way I came. I hear my voice, more dark than usual, but not hateful. Good, I think, it is good to not stoop too low- even if she deserves her own medicine. I huff out, trying to let the unpleasantness go, but I find it difficult. I have put a few steps between us when I hear something, muttering…I can’t make it out from the sharp-tongued fit thrower behind me. I can’t help but look back, she is irritated, but seemed to calm. I turn around, why? Why do I do this? Why do I feel the need to go back, and for what? More verbal lashings? But alas, I go, I can’t help my curiosity. I can’t see I’ve even seen a fit like that, and I want to know what could cause such a thing.
I return the few passes, and look at the orange tinted white and bay lass. She is smiling? Well at least it is a more welcoming image than before. Esileif, she has a name. I hear her as she puts on this mask, royal and proper, as if I am her subject and she my queen. Well then, I shall play, I might still be a little biffed from earlier. Ah, oh well. I bow, grandly, overly so. There, from my fully flourished bow I rise, and make myself as tall as possible. ”I am Fynnegan, the Mighty” I hold her gaze, I may be small but I will not be treated as such, and I am her elder—even if but a few years. I wait, see if she will break, even after that pause I purposefully continue to hold her gaze, proving my point. ”So… what can cause a royal lass like yourself to have such an…anger?” I tilt my head, and continue to look upon her, She may be tall, but hat does not make her big. He would not accept anything less that what he is due.- equal respect…an manors.
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