flowers in your hair

VARUS

“I can.” There’s a bit of pride in his voice with it, before he’s making note of the place she’s suggested, humming a sound of consideration from his throat. “Alright, Isla, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He flashes her an amused grin, before the game takes up again and her word has him leaving him hanging with a missing arm.

Bright blues shift to focus on her face, his hand rising to rub at his jaw. “Huh. I was gonna say that you don’t seem very duchess-like. Most of the ones I knew were quite squeamish and hated field work of any kind.” He shrugs, hand dropping to write the next underscores.

He does take pity on her, though, because she isn’t getting it. And all that’s left is a V—RUS. And when she proudly boasts her answer his face flashes with both amusement and a bit of feigned hurt, starting to draw on some toes to a foot. “Nope.” He proudly offers, flashing her a crooked grin. “It’s Varus.” He pauses, leaning forward on his elbow that’s braced on his leg. “I’ve kept it a bit of a secret but that’s my first name. Keep calling me Cal, though. Varus is mostly used for when I’ve gotten into some shit.” He offers her with another hum of laughter.

and i find sorrow in idle minds
and solace in being heard