Aela watches him from where she stands, making no motion to approach the colt who has anger toiling in his brown eyes. It tangles there much like fine hairs of his dark mane have knotted together. It doesn’t take an Empath to sense his irritation but what Aela can’t fathom is why is his irritation for the squirrel?
The small creature skitters away, vanishing beneath the roots of a nearby tree and taking any of her further consideration with it. When she peers back to the bay colt, he has wiped the slate clean. The earlier irritability turned into something that resembles more of granite along his jaw. His face has turned to stone. Aela regards him - much like she would regard any ghost - and he looks down. It’s not so odd a reaction, she knows.
Sometimes, this is what happens.
They look down. They look up. They look around. They look everywhere but her because Aela is asking them something. They either hear her or they don’t. More often than not (because coming close to others is a rarity for her too), her questions go unseen and her words fall on deaf ears. Most of them leave Aela alone with only her ghosts and her observations.
(And her heart should lurch with every unknown sound and step. The girl should be more careful in these woods. Aela shouldn’t be here at all but good luck with ever getting beyond a suggestion with her. If she knew and if she could tell it, these two might have more in common than they think. The girl slips past the magical barrier that Brennen casts over the North, keeping the children of her territories safe from a Thing that could slither, stalk or soar. From a Thing that could be anything at all.)
The stranger doesn’t leave. He doesn’t half-heartedly murmur something and fade away. The bay colt instead startles and it sharpens her attention. The look on her face is briefly shocked and then her gaze brightens, realizing that he’s caught a glimpse of what she’s shared. That he’s heard her. It’s an odd feeling that twists in her gut when he comes closer - concerned with what he might carry with him and yet… her curiosity wins out.
Not only had he heard her, but quickly (and she can only wonder about clarity)!
'I don’t like it when you do that', he says and there is a small curve on her lips. There is a moment of silence longer that she hopes will elaborate on what she can’t say: anything. Aela glances briefly up, regarding the branches around them and then finally the pleasant blue of a summer sky. When the golden girl looks to him again, she wonders if he’ll catch her humor as she projects this memory.
They could always talk about the weather.
The small creature skitters away, vanishing beneath the roots of a nearby tree and taking any of her further consideration with it. When she peers back to the bay colt, he has wiped the slate clean. The earlier irritability turned into something that resembles more of granite along his jaw. His face has turned to stone. Aela regards him - much like she would regard any ghost - and he looks down. It’s not so odd a reaction, she knows.
Sometimes, this is what happens.
They look down. They look up. They look around. They look everywhere but her because Aela is asking them something. They either hear her or they don’t. More often than not (because coming close to others is a rarity for her too), her questions go unseen and her words fall on deaf ears. Most of them leave Aela alone with only her ghosts and her observations.
(And her heart should lurch with every unknown sound and step. The girl should be more careful in these woods. Aela shouldn’t be here at all but good luck with ever getting beyond a suggestion with her. If she knew and if she could tell it, these two might have more in common than they think. The girl slips past the magical barrier that Brennen casts over the North, keeping the children of her territories safe from a Thing that could slither, stalk or soar. From a Thing that could be anything at all.)
The stranger doesn’t leave. He doesn’t half-heartedly murmur something and fade away. The bay colt instead startles and it sharpens her attention. The look on her face is briefly shocked and then her gaze brightens, realizing that he’s caught a glimpse of what she’s shared. That he’s heard her. It’s an odd feeling that twists in her gut when he comes closer - concerned with what he might carry with him and yet… her curiosity wins out.
Not only had he heard her, but quickly (and she can only wonder about clarity)!
'I don’t like it when you do that', he says and there is a small curve on her lips. There is a moment of silence longer that she hopes will elaborate on what she can’t say: anything. Aela glances briefly up, regarding the branches around them and then finally the pleasant blue of a summer sky. When the golden girl looks to him again, she wonders if he’ll catch her humor as she projects this memory.
They could always talk about the weather.
AELA
she had a marvelous time ruining everything
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@[Meyer]