Felix Caelus (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
conjuredskies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixwordstories2013-10-31 12:21 pm
conjuredskies) wrote in sixwordstories2013-10-31 12:21 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
No idea where that came from.
"Uh." Her tone isn't that of a woman willing to be easily reassured. Actually it reminds him of getting called out by his cousin Marcella.
"They've already killed one?" he offers hastily, then wonders if that was smart. It's the best evidence in his favour, though. "I heard they even have a warrior who's quite talented at it." The tavern-goers of Whiterun had been composing terrible songs in the poor fool's honour, last he checked.
"They've already killed one?" he offers hastily, then wonders if that was smart. It's the best evidence in his favour, though. "I heard they even have a warrior who's quite talented at it." The tavern-goers of Whiterun had been composing terrible songs in the poor fool's honour, last he checked.
Okay. That is... sort of reassuring. And also sort of not, because it means they've already had to kill one. So much for all the dragons just heading harmlessly into the mountains to live in caves and eat the Not-Canadian equivalent of bighorn sheep (and maybe conveniently kill each other off in territorial disputes or something).
Sunshine pulls in a breath, then releases it. She has enough to worry about without dragons, which makes them both an unfair additional mental burden and more than she has the energy to truly confront at the moment. She'll just have to wait until she actually sees one to panic about them; at least that plan saves her from having to panic right goddamn now.
Plus, there's that ever-present awareness in the back of her mind that she probably shouldn't be going out of her way to piss off her unofficial guide. Felix isn't a dragon-slayer, either, so it's not as if her fretting is going to do anything for his peace of mind.
"Well," she says, not entirely sure where to go with it. Most of the current signposts are looking pretty carthaginian fatalistic. "Maybe we'll get lucky." Ha. Ha.
Sunshine pulls in a breath, then releases it. She has enough to worry about without dragons, which makes them both an unfair additional mental burden and more than she has the energy to truly confront at the moment. She'll just have to wait until she actually sees one to panic about them; at least that plan saves her from having to panic right goddamn now.
Plus, there's that ever-present awareness in the back of her mind that she probably shouldn't be going out of her way to piss off her unofficial guide. Felix isn't a dragon-slayer, either, so it's not as if her fretting is going to do anything for his peace of mind.
"Well," she says, not entirely sure where to go with it. Most of the current signposts are looking pretty carthaginian fatalistic. "Maybe we'll get lucky." Ha. Ha.
Felix has to pick his steps carefully, to hop down alongside her and place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sure we will be." He's back to being earnest, but he adds with a tinge of wryness, "Especially if we take care to stay near nice, well-manned forts as much as we can. Don't worry about the dragons. We'll soon be finding a way to contact Meridia so you can go home."
"I'm sure we will be." He's back to being earnest, but he adds with a tinge of wryness, "Especially if we take care to stay near nice, well-manned forts as much as we can. Don't worry about the dragons. We'll soon be finding a way to contact Meridia so you can go home."
She has the feeling she's going to be receiving a lot of these bracing shoulder pats over the coming days. Well, she's going to be needing a lot of bracing shoulder pats. And bracing cups of tea. And just… general bracing.
"Yes," she says, even though her expression suggests some healthy doubts about the quality of her luck, at least (and she can't help thinking being stuck with her doesn't do much to recommend his, either, though she's not about to voice as much). But hell, he's trying, and she pats his hand in awkward appreciation. "Thanks."
"Yes," she says, even though her expression suggests some healthy doubts about the quality of her luck, at least (and she can't help thinking being stuck with her doesn't do much to recommend his, either, though she's not about to voice as much). But hell, he's trying, and she pats his hand in awkward appreciation. "Thanks."
Page 10 of 10