NATE
Life is hard that's why no one survives
I'm much older than I thought I'd be
I'm much older than I thought I'd be
Nate was engrossed in her tale, her instructions, as he saw them. His one good eye flicked between her, trying to give her all of his focus, trying to retain all of this, and the gilded dragon, temptation making his fingers, his hands twitch. They’re shoved into pockets and balled up quickly, giving the impression of a chill sinking into him, though he can’t really feel the cold.
For reasons he doesn’t understand, reasons he doesn’t even try to, the image of a buck, an arrow through its neck and it’s antlers wreathed in treasure and sentiment, sticks with him. Maybe he’s just adding details, an overactive but poorly working mind painting things too prettily with a brush of imagination, but maybe not. Either way, his voice is soft, nearly reverent when he speaks again. ”That’s... a good trade. Something... holy,” Nate laughs, the word not one to pass his lips often, almost surprisingly him with how strange it feels, ”for a connection. Companion.” A sage nod follows the words, before the moment is broken by his own companion.
Eager hands rise to cradle Pemota, a touch that she stays carefully out of reach of, prompting a whine from Nate. Instead, she considered her bondeds new company, dark eyes drinking in the woman, the dragon. She doesn’t trust them, even if Nate can’t see why, even if it deepens his pout when she does lower, her body between him and the strangers. The ascended doesn’t try to grab her again, distracted by the question.
”Home is Torchli-“ Images, memories of a fire flash before his eyes, halting his steps completely as he stares at them. ”Burned down.” They had done that, hadn’t they? Perhaps that was why he wandered so far, why he felt so lost, but it was just an excuse. Those were all he was good for, after all. With his face pinched, brows furrowed hard, unsteady hands reach out for the starwhal again, wanting to hold her close, a contact she begrudgingly allowed this time.
If home was destroyed and he was here, then he needed to find the Kraai. It was exactly a line of reasoning with all the steps filled in, but Nate had come to the conclusion regardless, and started walking again, more of a purpose to his steps. He turned to check that the woman still followed him, that he hadn’t left her behind, and caught something out of the corner of his eye, something that he him backtracking, turning down a street they’d just walked past. ”It’s here.” He murmured, to himself, to Pemota, still clutched close to him.
Another turn found them the bar, tucked in snugly, where it had always sat, and both Nate’s arms rose in silent victory, Pemota taking her chance to escape. ”This is it!” In a gesture that could have been smooth, if he didn’t sway so much while making it, he twirled to face his companion, pointing at her while he did. ”Let me get you a drink, Miss... ah, I-I..” Even without a telltale flush, embarrassment is easy to see. ”I forgot your name.”
For reasons he doesn’t understand, reasons he doesn’t even try to, the image of a buck, an arrow through its neck and it’s antlers wreathed in treasure and sentiment, sticks with him. Maybe he’s just adding details, an overactive but poorly working mind painting things too prettily with a brush of imagination, but maybe not. Either way, his voice is soft, nearly reverent when he speaks again. ”That’s... a good trade. Something... holy,” Nate laughs, the word not one to pass his lips often, almost surprisingly him with how strange it feels, ”for a connection. Companion.” A sage nod follows the words, before the moment is broken by his own companion.
Eager hands rise to cradle Pemota, a touch that she stays carefully out of reach of, prompting a whine from Nate. Instead, she considered her bondeds new company, dark eyes drinking in the woman, the dragon. She doesn’t trust them, even if Nate can’t see why, even if it deepens his pout when she does lower, her body between him and the strangers. The ascended doesn’t try to grab her again, distracted by the question.
”Home is Torchli-“ Images, memories of a fire flash before his eyes, halting his steps completely as he stares at them. ”Burned down.” They had done that, hadn’t they? Perhaps that was why he wandered so far, why he felt so lost, but it was just an excuse. Those were all he was good for, after all. With his face pinched, brows furrowed hard, unsteady hands reach out for the starwhal again, wanting to hold her close, a contact she begrudgingly allowed this time.
If home was destroyed and he was here, then he needed to find the Kraai. It was exactly a line of reasoning with all the steps filled in, but Nate had come to the conclusion regardless, and started walking again, more of a purpose to his steps. He turned to check that the woman still followed him, that he hadn’t left her behind, and caught something out of the corner of his eye, something that he him backtracking, turning down a street they’d just walked past. ”It’s here.” He murmured, to himself, to Pemota, still clutched close to him.
Another turn found them the bar, tucked in snugly, where it had always sat, and both Nate’s arms rose in silent victory, Pemota taking her chance to escape. ”This is it!” In a gesture that could have been smooth, if he didn’t sway so much while making it, he twirled to face his companion, pointing at her while he did. ”Let me get you a drink, Miss... ah, I-I..” Even without a telltale flush, embarrassment is easy to see. ”I forgot your name.”
Feel like a fool, yeah, like a dancing fool, yeah
Footloose and fancy free
Footloose and fancy free
