HENRY
a knife twists at the thought that
I should fall short of the mark
I should fall short of the mark
Henry relaxed when she put her knife away and accepted the offer of water, proceeding to down it all after a hesitant test. He gave a crooked smile down at the empty flask, feeling the emptiness of it in his hand as he put it back in its place. The amusement disappeared from his expression, however, as she asked about the Sanctuary.
"Sanctuary? 'Too far', you'll probably say," he raised his brows, "but I know the way, if you need help getting back." Only, she didn't really look like she was from the Hollowed Grounds. She had sun-tanned skin and quick hands - he almost didn't see her retrieve the knife before it was a threat, keeping him at bay. No, he had an idea where she was from - and it raised a prick of suspicion in him but, he stifled it. Everyone deserved a chance, regardless of the place they were from. He hoped others would think the same way about him so, it was only fair that he did.
"You're not from the Grounds, are you?" he said, though it wasn't really a question and more like an invitation for her to extrapolate on what she was doing here.
She stood up, her hair flowing around her shoulders in chestnut waves, and Henry was a silent observer. He didn't step away to give her space. If she had some unseen injury, he was ready to help her in case she fell or something. But there was a scowl scrawled across her face and he couldn't help but wonder why, a frown easing onto his own broad features. Henry didn't see the problem in asking questions, whether they would be easy to answer or not. In fact, many of the questions he did ask were the hard ones. Call it insensitive if you must, but an adventurous life isn't lived by taking the easy way..
She never answered him, though, instead throwing herself into a brief panic in search of something. Her bag. Henry glanced around, too, hoping to see it materialize from the brush. Only, it didn't, and she must have lost it in her chase after a ghost... or not-ghost, since he still didn't know. He could assume, though. So she was sensitive about her past. Noted.
"Alright, well, the best way to find what you've lost is to retrace your steps," he began, looking along the ground for what would look like a trail. It wasn't so hard to find. "Wow, look at this," he rubbed his chin with one hand as he gazed down at the clearly-beaten path, "at least it will be easy to do that, huh?" he glanced back over at her, "You're quite a trailblazer!"
He did realize, however, that she must've been exhausted - and they had a whole trek back to Sanctuary to do. So, he put his hand up to stop her if she should try to follow him, "You stay here, alright? It's not that I think you're helpless," he added, taking her for the fiesty, do-it-herself type, assuming she would have some sort of argument for why she shouldn't stay behind, "but I don't want to have to carry you to Sanctuary, okay? So rest up, try to relax, don't talk to any spooky ghosts from the past, and I'll be back with your stuff. Promise!" He flashed her a quick, encouraging grin and then he was off before she could truly put up a fight about it. Returned to his eagle state, his impressive wingspan whooshed through the fields.
He flew over the grasses and brush and overgrowth, torn through by a sloppy trail. Twigs and branches snapped all across the place, the trail blundered down by dragged feet. What was she doing? he could wonder at that, though; she seemed a private sort of person, not likely to open up. Whether or not she'd tell him what happened remained to be seen but, he didn't feel discouraged at all. No, in fact, she made him very curious.
Aha!
There, down in the grasses, was a makeshift pack. It was made well enough to stand out amongst the foliage, though it was smeared across by mud. He wasted no time getting it back to her, knowing that whatever was inside was clearly important to her. So, scooping it up by his strong talons, he took back to the air and swooped over the fields. When he arrived, it only felt like seconds had passed. But really it had been more like ten or so minutes. The eagle flew fast, and fast was what he felt like.
Henry was going so fast, though, that there was a clear expression of 'oh shit' written all over his eagle face as he closed in on the girl. Wide eyes, agape beak, wings frantically working to slow himself down. He was a large, heavy bird flying at top speeds; it wasn't like stopping that motion was easy and he had never been good at landing. But he tried his hardest, using that weight as leverage to hold himself back in the air, just managing to safely, gently place the pack down on the ground a few feet in front of her.
He landed beside it, wings brushing the material. He lifted his eagle beak rather proudly and peered up at her for her reaction. Then, impulsively, the curiosity of the bird made him try to peek inside of the bag with a scrutinizing tilt of his head, especially if she should open it to retrieve something.
"Sanctuary? 'Too far', you'll probably say," he raised his brows, "but I know the way, if you need help getting back." Only, she didn't really look like she was from the Hollowed Grounds. She had sun-tanned skin and quick hands - he almost didn't see her retrieve the knife before it was a threat, keeping him at bay. No, he had an idea where she was from - and it raised a prick of suspicion in him but, he stifled it. Everyone deserved a chance, regardless of the place they were from. He hoped others would think the same way about him so, it was only fair that he did.
"You're not from the Grounds, are you?" he said, though it wasn't really a question and more like an invitation for her to extrapolate on what she was doing here.
She stood up, her hair flowing around her shoulders in chestnut waves, and Henry was a silent observer. He didn't step away to give her space. If she had some unseen injury, he was ready to help her in case she fell or something. But there was a scowl scrawled across her face and he couldn't help but wonder why, a frown easing onto his own broad features. Henry didn't see the problem in asking questions, whether they would be easy to answer or not. In fact, many of the questions he did ask were the hard ones. Call it insensitive if you must, but an adventurous life isn't lived by taking the easy way..
She never answered him, though, instead throwing herself into a brief panic in search of something. Her bag. Henry glanced around, too, hoping to see it materialize from the brush. Only, it didn't, and she must have lost it in her chase after a ghost... or not-ghost, since he still didn't know. He could assume, though. So she was sensitive about her past. Noted.
"Alright, well, the best way to find what you've lost is to retrace your steps," he began, looking along the ground for what would look like a trail. It wasn't so hard to find. "Wow, look at this," he rubbed his chin with one hand as he gazed down at the clearly-beaten path, "at least it will be easy to do that, huh?" he glanced back over at her, "You're quite a trailblazer!"
He did realize, however, that she must've been exhausted - and they had a whole trek back to Sanctuary to do. So, he put his hand up to stop her if she should try to follow him, "You stay here, alright? It's not that I think you're helpless," he added, taking her for the fiesty, do-it-herself type, assuming she would have some sort of argument for why she shouldn't stay behind, "but I don't want to have to carry you to Sanctuary, okay? So rest up, try to relax, don't talk to any spooky ghosts from the past, and I'll be back with your stuff. Promise!" He flashed her a quick, encouraging grin and then he was off before she could truly put up a fight about it. Returned to his eagle state, his impressive wingspan whooshed through the fields.
He flew over the grasses and brush and overgrowth, torn through by a sloppy trail. Twigs and branches snapped all across the place, the trail blundered down by dragged feet. What was she doing? he could wonder at that, though; she seemed a private sort of person, not likely to open up. Whether or not she'd tell him what happened remained to be seen but, he didn't feel discouraged at all. No, in fact, she made him very curious.
Aha!
There, down in the grasses, was a makeshift pack. It was made well enough to stand out amongst the foliage, though it was smeared across by mud. He wasted no time getting it back to her, knowing that whatever was inside was clearly important to her. So, scooping it up by his strong talons, he took back to the air and swooped over the fields. When he arrived, it only felt like seconds had passed. But really it had been more like ten or so minutes. The eagle flew fast, and fast was what he felt like.
Henry was going so fast, though, that there was a clear expression of 'oh shit' written all over his eagle face as he closed in on the girl. Wide eyes, agape beak, wings frantically working to slow himself down. He was a large, heavy bird flying at top speeds; it wasn't like stopping that motion was easy and he had never been good at landing. But he tried his hardest, using that weight as leverage to hold himself back in the air, just managing to safely, gently place the pack down on the ground a few feet in front of her.
He landed beside it, wings brushing the material. He lifted his eagle beak rather proudly and peered up at her for her reaction. Then, impulsively, the curiosity of the bird made him try to peek inside of the bag with a scrutinizing tilt of his head, especially if she should open it to retrieve something.
middle of adventure
such a perfect place to start
such a perfect place to start
