Are
Stifling a shriek worthy of a sickly hawk, Are flung around and fumbled with drawing his knife. After tossing it forcefully into the groud, blade buried in the soil, he froze again and slowly looked up. A very peculiar man for a place like this, not the kind of man one would expect to find in the land of the dead. Not dead, I think...
"I..." was all he managed to muster, a broken voice behind gritted teeth. Another breath of fresh air sent a shiver down his spine, maybe the creeping cold helped. Suddenly aware of his manners, Are straightened up and lowered his gaze, mother always said it was not polite to stare.
"I am Are son of Jorm, from Aros." he said as politely as one could expect from a man spat out by the void. "Pardon my, uh, reaction. I am lost." his accent made it sound harsher than intended, but it did neatly wrap up his feelings. Her, where!? Panic started to set in, doubts turned to fears as the realization struck. Color drained from his cheeks and his eyes darted around in search of a sign, anything. He knew very well she couldn't swim and would end up here with him sooner or later.
"A woman, hair like straw and a blue apron, have you seen her? She goes by..." the word stuck in his throat, in his mind. The image was worn, faded, as if the passing had turned his memories dull.
"I..." was all he managed to muster, a broken voice behind gritted teeth. Another breath of fresh air sent a shiver down his spine, maybe the creeping cold helped. Suddenly aware of his manners, Are straightened up and lowered his gaze, mother always said it was not polite to stare.
"I am Are son of Jorm, from Aros." he said as politely as one could expect from a man spat out by the void. "Pardon my, uh, reaction. I am lost." his accent made it sound harsher than intended, but it did neatly wrap up his feelings. Her, where!? Panic started to set in, doubts turned to fears as the realization struck. Color drained from his cheeks and his eyes darted around in search of a sign, anything. He knew very well she couldn't swim and would end up here with him sooner or later.
"A woman, hair like straw and a blue apron, have you seen her? She goes by..." the word stuck in his throat, in his mind. The image was worn, faded, as if the passing had turned his memories dull.
