LOREN
The sparrows did warn Loren of the woman approaching. Turning to face her, he smiled, though anyone who knew him well would know just how much he was faking it. ”Not exactly.” He regarded her for a moment: she looked equal parts beautiful and tough, and she held herself with a great deal of authority. So he extended a hand, draping his canvas over the other arm. ”I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Loren.”
Then his birds informed him that Maea was coming over and he turned to face her. ”Hi Maea.” Then he frowned slightly. ”You didn’t need to do that.” As she revealed the carved bird, however, he took it from her almost gingerly. ”Thank you. It’s beautiful.” His voice was genuinely grateful and he flashed her a brief, but real, smile.
Of course, then Samuel’s voice whispered in his ear, and something was pressed into his other hand. The healer stiffened. ”Sam?! It came out in a hissed whisper and his eyes darted to the Fae milling about everywhere.
Quickly recovering, he gave the two women another polite but fake smile. ”If you ladies will excuse me for a moment.” Nodding at them, he hurried around to the other side of the tree, hoping the redhead would follow. Obviously unable to see the other man, the Launceleyn spoke in a whisper to the air. ”Sam, I’m touched, but you shouldn’t have come. You’re not allowed here.”
Directing his birds to watch for the Fae now, he rolled up the painting as tightly as he could and blindly shoved his painting out. ”Take this in exchange and go.” The words came out with a great deal of urgency but the last thing he wanted was for Sam to die at this gathering.
The painting was made in {SE} happy little trees
Then his birds informed him that Maea was coming over and he turned to face her. ”Hi Maea.” Then he frowned slightly. ”You didn’t need to do that.” As she revealed the carved bird, however, he took it from her almost gingerly. ”Thank you. It’s beautiful.” His voice was genuinely grateful and he flashed her a brief, but real, smile.
Of course, then Samuel’s voice whispered in his ear, and something was pressed into his other hand. The healer stiffened. ”Sam?! It came out in a hissed whisper and his eyes darted to the Fae milling about everywhere.
Quickly recovering, he gave the two women another polite but fake smile. ”If you ladies will excuse me for a moment.” Nodding at them, he hurried around to the other side of the tree, hoping the redhead would follow. Obviously unable to see the other man, the Launceleyn spoke in a whisper to the air. ”Sam, I’m touched, but you shouldn’t have come. You’re not allowed here.”
Directing his birds to watch for the Fae now, he rolled up the painting as tightly as he could and blindly shoved his painting out. ”Take this in exchange and go.” The words came out with a great deal of urgency but the last thing he wanted was for Sam to die at this gathering.
The painting was made in {SE} happy little trees
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
