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Aleksandr let out a sigh of frustration as he struggled with the fastening of his baldric. The leather strap stretched across his broad chest from one shoulder to the opposing hip. A string of curses fell from his lips as he worked to tie it into place. Typically, it was worn by peltasts, but after fourteen years in the military, Aleksandr had learned the benefits of adjusting and taking on new ideas to ensure he was at maximum capacity when fighting. He was a strong enough man and wasn’t weighed down by the little extra weaponry he carried. Snatching a small, yet dangerous, silver dagger off of the nearby table, he gave it an easy flip before sliding it into a homemade sheath, disguised within the strap. It rested snugly beneath his ribs allowing him to retrieve it with ease when necessary.
He wore a simple, white chitoniskos which was tied fastidiously at his waist. The linen fabric felt foreign against his skin and Aleksandr shifted uncomfortably in it. He’d already been back into Greek territory for just over a week and he still wasn’t getting used to the amount of clothing that they wore. Even the Egyptian soldiers wore less armour. Ironically, when Aleksandr received news of his mission being terminated and was commanded to return back to Greece he was beyond ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to step on Athenian soil... Marvel at the fair-haired and light-eyed Greek women... Get drunk deep into the night off of the finest wines. However, the sweet Mediterranean breeze that he remembered suddenly felt damp and suffocating on his face. He couldn’t help but long for the dry heat and fiery sands of Egypt. He didn’t even realize it until he got back, but somewhere along his ten years there, Egypt became his familiar, his reliable, whilst Greece – Well, simply the fragment of a memory viewed through his once rose-colored glasses.
Though, he didn’t suppose it was all that bad. With a chagrin smirk his thoughts drifted back to one of his first nights back in Greece. The boat made its dock in Magnemea and Aleksandr seized the chance to catch up with an old friend, Damocles. They’d spent the entirety of the night reliving the glory days while drinking into oblivion. Damocles had even surprised him with an array of beautiful woman to pick from, since no war hero should have to sleep alone on his first night back. And, it *was* good to feel the warmth of a woman (fine, maybe a few) after so long. The welcome was very much appreciated by Aleks.
Sheathing his xiphos, he grabbed his small bag of gold coins, sparing one for the inn keeper, before tucking it away safely into his belt. He was to arrive at the barracks late that afternoon. Per his orders, he would be reporting to Captain Hector of Arcana and Aleksandr couldn’t quite figure out why that name rang a bell in his mind. Of course, it was most assuredly due to the fact that he’d probably crossed paths with the man at some point in his past. Right after he enlisted the war broke out and it wasn’t uncommon for the provinces and territories to work together to defeat their common enemy – Egypt.
Without a second glance back, he bounded down the few steps of the inn and began his stroll along the town pathway. The sun was just beginning to rise, but most of the townsfolk already seemed to be stirring to life. He took in the quaintness of the small cottages and shops around him. Arcana was a rather whimsical, yet small, city. As a man with over a decade of reconnaissance, combat experience, and the ability to speak both Persian and Egyptian he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he would be summoned there. Approaching the stables, his hand rested on his pouch of coins. He’d been provided with the money necessary to obtain a horse for transportation. Ducking into the back, Aleks could smell the hay and manure as he entered the barn.
Walking up to the closest horse, a chestnut mare, he clucked his tongue so to not frighten her whenever he placed his warm hand along her flank. With a flicker of her ears, the creature glanced lazily back at him, seemingly used to the intrusive touch of humans. Though, she seemed sweet enough, she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. However, she needn't know that she was unwanted. Aleksandr stayed a short while, stroking down the length of her side, much to her delight. Anticipating his next gambit, his keen gaze scanned diligently over the stalls.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Aleksandr let out a sigh of frustration as he struggled with the fastening of his baldric. The leather strap stretched across his broad chest from one shoulder to the opposing hip. A string of curses fell from his lips as he worked to tie it into place. Typically, it was worn by peltasts, but after fourteen years in the military, Aleksandr had learned the benefits of adjusting and taking on new ideas to ensure he was at maximum capacity when fighting. He was a strong enough man and wasn’t weighed down by the little extra weaponry he carried. Snatching a small, yet dangerous, silver dagger off of the nearby table, he gave it an easy flip before sliding it into a homemade sheath, disguised within the strap. It rested snugly beneath his ribs allowing him to retrieve it with ease when necessary.
He wore a simple, white chitoniskos which was tied fastidiously at his waist. The linen fabric felt foreign against his skin and Aleksandr shifted uncomfortably in it. He’d already been back into Greek territory for just over a week and he still wasn’t getting used to the amount of clothing that they wore. Even the Egyptian soldiers wore less armour. Ironically, when Aleksandr received news of his mission being terminated and was commanded to return back to Greece he was beyond ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to step on Athenian soil... Marvel at the fair-haired and light-eyed Greek women... Get drunk deep into the night off of the finest wines. However, the sweet Mediterranean breeze that he remembered suddenly felt damp and suffocating on his face. He couldn’t help but long for the dry heat and fiery sands of Egypt. He didn’t even realize it until he got back, but somewhere along his ten years there, Egypt became his familiar, his reliable, whilst Greece – Well, simply the fragment of a memory viewed through his once rose-colored glasses.
Though, he didn’t suppose it was all that bad. With a chagrin smirk his thoughts drifted back to one of his first nights back in Greece. The boat made its dock in Magnemea and Aleksandr seized the chance to catch up with an old friend, Damocles. They’d spent the entirety of the night reliving the glory days while drinking into oblivion. Damocles had even surprised him with an array of beautiful woman to pick from, since no war hero should have to sleep alone on his first night back. And, it *was* good to feel the warmth of a woman (fine, maybe a few) after so long. The welcome was very much appreciated by Aleks.
Sheathing his xiphos, he grabbed his small bag of gold coins, sparing one for the inn keeper, before tucking it away safely into his belt. He was to arrive at the barracks late that afternoon. Per his orders, he would be reporting to Captain Hector of Arcana and Aleksandr couldn’t quite figure out why that name rang a bell in his mind. Of course, it was most assuredly due to the fact that he’d probably crossed paths with the man at some point in his past. Right after he enlisted the war broke out and it wasn’t uncommon for the provinces and territories to work together to defeat their common enemy – Egypt.
Without a second glance back, he bounded down the few steps of the inn and began his stroll along the town pathway. The sun was just beginning to rise, but most of the townsfolk already seemed to be stirring to life. He took in the quaintness of the small cottages and shops around him. Arcana was a rather whimsical, yet small, city. As a man with over a decade of reconnaissance, combat experience, and the ability to speak both Persian and Egyptian he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he would be summoned there. Approaching the stables, his hand rested on his pouch of coins. He’d been provided with the money necessary to obtain a horse for transportation. Ducking into the back, Aleks could smell the hay and manure as he entered the barn.
Walking up to the closest horse, a chestnut mare, he clucked his tongue so to not frighten her whenever he placed his warm hand along her flank. With a flicker of her ears, the creature glanced lazily back at him, seemingly used to the intrusive touch of humans. Though, she seemed sweet enough, she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. However, she needn't know that she was unwanted. Aleksandr stayed a short while, stroking down the length of her side, much to her delight. Anticipating his next gambit, his keen gaze scanned diligently over the stalls.
Aleksandr let out a sigh of frustration as he struggled with the fastening of his baldric. The leather strap stretched across his broad chest from one shoulder to the opposing hip. A string of curses fell from his lips as he worked to tie it into place. Typically, it was worn by peltasts, but after fourteen years in the military, Aleksandr had learned the benefits of adjusting and taking on new ideas to ensure he was at maximum capacity when fighting. He was a strong enough man and wasn’t weighed down by the little extra weaponry he carried. Snatching a small, yet dangerous, silver dagger off of the nearby table, he gave it an easy flip before sliding it into a homemade sheath, disguised within the strap. It rested snugly beneath his ribs allowing him to retrieve it with ease when necessary.
He wore a simple, white chitoniskos which was tied fastidiously at his waist. The linen fabric felt foreign against his skin and Aleksandr shifted uncomfortably in it. He’d already been back into Greek territory for just over a week and he still wasn’t getting used to the amount of clothing that they wore. Even the Egyptian soldiers wore less armour. Ironically, when Aleksandr received news of his mission being terminated and was commanded to return back to Greece he was beyond ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to step on Athenian soil... Marvel at the fair-haired and light-eyed Greek women... Get drunk deep into the night off of the finest wines. However, the sweet Mediterranean breeze that he remembered suddenly felt damp and suffocating on his face. He couldn’t help but long for the dry heat and fiery sands of Egypt. He didn’t even realize it until he got back, but somewhere along his ten years there, Egypt became his familiar, his reliable, whilst Greece – Well, simply the fragment of a memory viewed through his once rose-colored glasses.
Though, he didn’t suppose it was all that bad. With a chagrin smirk his thoughts drifted back to one of his first nights back in Greece. The boat made its dock in Magnemea and Aleksandr seized the chance to catch up with an old friend, Damocles. They’d spent the entirety of the night reliving the glory days while drinking into oblivion. Damocles had even surprised him with an array of beautiful woman to pick from, since no war hero should have to sleep alone on his first night back. And, it *was* good to feel the warmth of a woman (fine, maybe a few) after so long. The welcome was very much appreciated by Aleks.
Sheathing his xiphos, he grabbed his small bag of gold coins, sparing one for the inn keeper, before tucking it away safely into his belt. He was to arrive at the barracks late that afternoon. Per his orders, he would be reporting to Captain Hector of Arcana and Aleksandr couldn’t quite figure out why that name rang a bell in his mind. Of course, it was most assuredly due to the fact that he’d probably crossed paths with the man at some point in his past. Right after he enlisted the war broke out and it wasn’t uncommon for the provinces and territories to work together to defeat their common enemy – Egypt.
Without a second glance back, he bounded down the few steps of the inn and began his stroll along the town pathway. The sun was just beginning to rise, but most of the townsfolk already seemed to be stirring to life. He took in the quaintness of the small cottages and shops around him. Arcana was a rather whimsical, yet small, city. As a man with over a decade of reconnaissance, combat experience, and the ability to speak both Persian and Egyptian he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why he would be summoned there. Approaching the stables, his hand rested on his pouch of coins. He’d been provided with the money necessary to obtain a horse for transportation. Ducking into the back, Aleks could smell the hay and manure as he entered the barn.
Walking up to the closest horse, a chestnut mare, he clucked his tongue so to not frighten her whenever he placed his warm hand along her flank. With a flicker of her ears, the creature glanced lazily back at him, seemingly used to the intrusive touch of humans. Though, she seemed sweet enough, she wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. However, she needn't know that she was unwanted. Aleksandr stayed a short while, stroking down the length of her side, much to her delight. Anticipating his next gambit, his keen gaze scanned diligently over the stalls.
Coppery sunlight wasn’t even peeking through the shutters of the windows when Ismene quietly tiptoed out of her bedroom with her sandals in one hand and the leather satchel she carried her medical kit in, in her other hand. Ariadne was sleeping in which was part of the reason Ismene was slipping out before the sun had fully risen. She had a couple of things to take care of today and she wanted to get them out of the way so she could square away some time for her sister.
Slipping out the room, the house was quiet and still filled with the cool early morning air. A quick glance around their quaint little living space and she knew without going to look that her father had made an early morning out of it and left for the barracks. Letting the satchel drop softly onto the floor, she eased into a chair and started putting her laced up deerskin sandals and tied them. She was absent of jewelry and dressed for the practical world. The sand color of her chiton was far more practical than her usual preference of muted summer colors. It was hard for soldiers to take her instructions seriously when she wore a delicate pink. Her soft golden mane had lightened a little from the summer turning it to the palest shade of spun gold with soft streaks of darker gold and warmed honey but she’d tamed the wild beach waves a little and pulled it up into a high ponytail and away from her face with practical efficiency about it. A couple of strands had come loose already in the short amount of time she’d been up and framed her face.
Brushing a strand away, she sat there for a moment gathering her thoughts about her. Her father’s stipend did well supporting their small family, but in the combination of Ariadne’s from the palace, and Ismene’s from her patients they were capable of not worrying about going without. That hadn’t always been the case though… Their little family had seen their share of troubles over the years. It’d caused the delightfully curvy little blonde to have to grow up far faster than she’d ever expected. It seemed like only yesterday that she’d been trying to force-feed her tonics to stray cats and now…
Well, today wasn’t like most days. So what if her first patient was a horse. She treated more people nowadays than animals but sometimes… a girl just had to treat what people would hire her to treat. In this case, one of her father’s soldier’s mother’s horses had spooked the other night in his stall and bumped his hip against something leaving him with a nice little laceration. That reminded her, she had better get a move on it.
Snatching up the satchel, she bounced up out of the chair and trudged towards the door. She hoped that her uncle had something more interested than rubbing some honey and herbs on a horse’s rump for her. What were the chances one of her father’s men had tripped and almost cut his leg off? Was that too much to ask the Gods for? Her easy rolling walk covered ground without sacrificing the feminine swing of her hips as she started down the lane towards public stable in Arcana.
Waving at a couple of the locals, she ducked her head and continued on her way. The morning sun was drawing higher and the greyish dawn sky had made way for a golden glow that promised a beautiful day. They’d always been fairly lucky to live so close to the small village, and yet far enough that they weren’t typically bothered by the going on’s in the village, and the walk to just about anywhere was both convenient and in most cases rather enjoyable.
At the stable, she said ‘hello’ to the lads… several of them she’d grown up with before she slipped into the darker stable. Her eyes not adjusting as quickly as she’d like, she squinted and scanned the stalls. Single-mindedly focused on her goal. Treat the damned horse and go find Uncle Gregor to see if there was something more interesting for her to do. She started past a stall with a bright red horse standing in it. She was almost past the stall when from the other side of the horse something moved, or rather… someone moved, startling her.
“Oh, for the love of the Gods,” Ismene growled at the man, “You could have made yourself known, you know!” Reaching down she snatched up her satchel that she’d dropped. Her lips thinned a little as she gave him a disapproving look before stalking towards the stall with the horse who needed her attention. Slipping into the stall she stepped closer and bent down to examine the wound, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. Of course, it wasn’t… nothing ever was anymore it seemed.
Turning her attention, she started digging around in her satchel looking for the small jar that held the honey and herb balm she’d made several days ago. Using her fingers she started to apply the balm, having completely forgotten about the figure lurking in the stall with horse a few stalls away.
“I swear when I get my hands on him again, he’ll need some of this balm.” She muttered to the gelding in the stall, “His mother’s horse was in excruciating pain… I bet he and his buddies are just laughing about this.” Bending a little she examined it again before stepping to the gelding’s head and catching the horse by the rope halter and looking pointedly at him. “All better, Pokey? I do believe you’ll live. Your master’s son, not so much. But, take it easy. Try and restrict your activity, so… no late-night races on the beach… I know you owe that bay on the side of the stable some oats but…” Her words cut off as she realized she was standing there talking to a horse, not just talking but carrying on a full conversation.
A forced groan escaped and she let go of the halter and took a step back. “It’s okay, Isi… You just need to get out more...” She shook her head, and opened her satchel and dropped the jar of honey and herbs back inside.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Coppery sunlight wasn’t even peeking through the shutters of the windows when Ismene quietly tiptoed out of her bedroom with her sandals in one hand and the leather satchel she carried her medical kit in, in her other hand. Ariadne was sleeping in which was part of the reason Ismene was slipping out before the sun had fully risen. She had a couple of things to take care of today and she wanted to get them out of the way so she could square away some time for her sister.
Slipping out the room, the house was quiet and still filled with the cool early morning air. A quick glance around their quaint little living space and she knew without going to look that her father had made an early morning out of it and left for the barracks. Letting the satchel drop softly onto the floor, she eased into a chair and started putting her laced up deerskin sandals and tied them. She was absent of jewelry and dressed for the practical world. The sand color of her chiton was far more practical than her usual preference of muted summer colors. It was hard for soldiers to take her instructions seriously when she wore a delicate pink. Her soft golden mane had lightened a little from the summer turning it to the palest shade of spun gold with soft streaks of darker gold and warmed honey but she’d tamed the wild beach waves a little and pulled it up into a high ponytail and away from her face with practical efficiency about it. A couple of strands had come loose already in the short amount of time she’d been up and framed her face.
Brushing a strand away, she sat there for a moment gathering her thoughts about her. Her father’s stipend did well supporting their small family, but in the combination of Ariadne’s from the palace, and Ismene’s from her patients they were capable of not worrying about going without. That hadn’t always been the case though… Their little family had seen their share of troubles over the years. It’d caused the delightfully curvy little blonde to have to grow up far faster than she’d ever expected. It seemed like only yesterday that she’d been trying to force-feed her tonics to stray cats and now…
Well, today wasn’t like most days. So what if her first patient was a horse. She treated more people nowadays than animals but sometimes… a girl just had to treat what people would hire her to treat. In this case, one of her father’s soldier’s mother’s horses had spooked the other night in his stall and bumped his hip against something leaving him with a nice little laceration. That reminded her, she had better get a move on it.
Snatching up the satchel, she bounced up out of the chair and trudged towards the door. She hoped that her uncle had something more interested than rubbing some honey and herbs on a horse’s rump for her. What were the chances one of her father’s men had tripped and almost cut his leg off? Was that too much to ask the Gods for? Her easy rolling walk covered ground without sacrificing the feminine swing of her hips as she started down the lane towards public stable in Arcana.
Waving at a couple of the locals, she ducked her head and continued on her way. The morning sun was drawing higher and the greyish dawn sky had made way for a golden glow that promised a beautiful day. They’d always been fairly lucky to live so close to the small village, and yet far enough that they weren’t typically bothered by the going on’s in the village, and the walk to just about anywhere was both convenient and in most cases rather enjoyable.
At the stable, she said ‘hello’ to the lads… several of them she’d grown up with before she slipped into the darker stable. Her eyes not adjusting as quickly as she’d like, she squinted and scanned the stalls. Single-mindedly focused on her goal. Treat the damned horse and go find Uncle Gregor to see if there was something more interesting for her to do. She started past a stall with a bright red horse standing in it. She was almost past the stall when from the other side of the horse something moved, or rather… someone moved, startling her.
“Oh, for the love of the Gods,” Ismene growled at the man, “You could have made yourself known, you know!” Reaching down she snatched up her satchel that she’d dropped. Her lips thinned a little as she gave him a disapproving look before stalking towards the stall with the horse who needed her attention. Slipping into the stall she stepped closer and bent down to examine the wound, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. Of course, it wasn’t… nothing ever was anymore it seemed.
Turning her attention, she started digging around in her satchel looking for the small jar that held the honey and herb balm she’d made several days ago. Using her fingers she started to apply the balm, having completely forgotten about the figure lurking in the stall with horse a few stalls away.
“I swear when I get my hands on him again, he’ll need some of this balm.” She muttered to the gelding in the stall, “His mother’s horse was in excruciating pain… I bet he and his buddies are just laughing about this.” Bending a little she examined it again before stepping to the gelding’s head and catching the horse by the rope halter and looking pointedly at him. “All better, Pokey? I do believe you’ll live. Your master’s son, not so much. But, take it easy. Try and restrict your activity, so… no late-night races on the beach… I know you owe that bay on the side of the stable some oats but…” Her words cut off as she realized she was standing there talking to a horse, not just talking but carrying on a full conversation.
A forced groan escaped and she let go of the halter and took a step back. “It’s okay, Isi… You just need to get out more...” She shook her head, and opened her satchel and dropped the jar of honey and herbs back inside.
Coppery sunlight wasn’t even peeking through the shutters of the windows when Ismene quietly tiptoed out of her bedroom with her sandals in one hand and the leather satchel she carried her medical kit in, in her other hand. Ariadne was sleeping in which was part of the reason Ismene was slipping out before the sun had fully risen. She had a couple of things to take care of today and she wanted to get them out of the way so she could square away some time for her sister.
Slipping out the room, the house was quiet and still filled with the cool early morning air. A quick glance around their quaint little living space and she knew without going to look that her father had made an early morning out of it and left for the barracks. Letting the satchel drop softly onto the floor, she eased into a chair and started putting her laced up deerskin sandals and tied them. She was absent of jewelry and dressed for the practical world. The sand color of her chiton was far more practical than her usual preference of muted summer colors. It was hard for soldiers to take her instructions seriously when she wore a delicate pink. Her soft golden mane had lightened a little from the summer turning it to the palest shade of spun gold with soft streaks of darker gold and warmed honey but she’d tamed the wild beach waves a little and pulled it up into a high ponytail and away from her face with practical efficiency about it. A couple of strands had come loose already in the short amount of time she’d been up and framed her face.
Brushing a strand away, she sat there for a moment gathering her thoughts about her. Her father’s stipend did well supporting their small family, but in the combination of Ariadne’s from the palace, and Ismene’s from her patients they were capable of not worrying about going without. That hadn’t always been the case though… Their little family had seen their share of troubles over the years. It’d caused the delightfully curvy little blonde to have to grow up far faster than she’d ever expected. It seemed like only yesterday that she’d been trying to force-feed her tonics to stray cats and now…
Well, today wasn’t like most days. So what if her first patient was a horse. She treated more people nowadays than animals but sometimes… a girl just had to treat what people would hire her to treat. In this case, one of her father’s soldier’s mother’s horses had spooked the other night in his stall and bumped his hip against something leaving him with a nice little laceration. That reminded her, she had better get a move on it.
Snatching up the satchel, she bounced up out of the chair and trudged towards the door. She hoped that her uncle had something more interested than rubbing some honey and herbs on a horse’s rump for her. What were the chances one of her father’s men had tripped and almost cut his leg off? Was that too much to ask the Gods for? Her easy rolling walk covered ground without sacrificing the feminine swing of her hips as she started down the lane towards public stable in Arcana.
Waving at a couple of the locals, she ducked her head and continued on her way. The morning sun was drawing higher and the greyish dawn sky had made way for a golden glow that promised a beautiful day. They’d always been fairly lucky to live so close to the small village, and yet far enough that they weren’t typically bothered by the going on’s in the village, and the walk to just about anywhere was both convenient and in most cases rather enjoyable.
At the stable, she said ‘hello’ to the lads… several of them she’d grown up with before she slipped into the darker stable. Her eyes not adjusting as quickly as she’d like, she squinted and scanned the stalls. Single-mindedly focused on her goal. Treat the damned horse and go find Uncle Gregor to see if there was something more interesting for her to do. She started past a stall with a bright red horse standing in it. She was almost past the stall when from the other side of the horse something moved, or rather… someone moved, startling her.
“Oh, for the love of the Gods,” Ismene growled at the man, “You could have made yourself known, you know!” Reaching down she snatched up her satchel that she’d dropped. Her lips thinned a little as she gave him a disapproving look before stalking towards the stall with the horse who needed her attention. Slipping into the stall she stepped closer and bent down to examine the wound, it wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d expected. Of course, it wasn’t… nothing ever was anymore it seemed.
Turning her attention, she started digging around in her satchel looking for the small jar that held the honey and herb balm she’d made several days ago. Using her fingers she started to apply the balm, having completely forgotten about the figure lurking in the stall with horse a few stalls away.
“I swear when I get my hands on him again, he’ll need some of this balm.” She muttered to the gelding in the stall, “His mother’s horse was in excruciating pain… I bet he and his buddies are just laughing about this.” Bending a little she examined it again before stepping to the gelding’s head and catching the horse by the rope halter and looking pointedly at him. “All better, Pokey? I do believe you’ll live. Your master’s son, not so much. But, take it easy. Try and restrict your activity, so… no late-night races on the beach… I know you owe that bay on the side of the stable some oats but…” Her words cut off as she realized she was standing there talking to a horse, not just talking but carrying on a full conversation.
A forced groan escaped and she let go of the halter and took a step back. “It’s okay, Isi… You just need to get out more...” She shook her head, and opened her satchel and dropped the jar of honey and herbs back inside.
Aleksandr took in the quietness of the stable. Save for the nickering of horses, everything just seemed to be... peaceful. It was a strange phenomenon for him since he couldn’t remember the last time that he felt so lulled into letting his guard down. He supposed that was what such an unsuspecting place could do to you. As he shifted silently to the other side, he caught the tail end of what sounded like a greeting before a woman entered the stable. Having already become adjusted to the dim lighting, he was able to make out some of her features. Her hair was lighter, but he couldn’t quite tell to what degree, as it was pulled back out of her face. What he could tell was that she seemed rather young from her lively gait and very... mission oriented. Though, he didn’t know why. Aleks leaned in to further observe the situation when the mare suddenly sidestepped towards him, threatening to pin him against the wall. Fuck! In an attempt to move out of the way, he darted to the front, catching the woman’s attention as he did so.
"Oh, for the love of the Gods! You could have made yourself known, you know!" Her shrill voice came, much to Aleks’ displeasure, as she jumped in startlement. Her satchel hit the ground and Aleks contemplated retrieving it for her, but he figured that she was more than capable. Besides, she was casting him a look of hatred and he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. His jaw clenched and his expression was that of minor annoyance. He was prepared to stand there eyeing her down, awkwardly, while she berated him, but then without a second thought she was suddenly off to another one of the stalls. His sharp gaze tracked her movements like a predator; and only once he was sure of her intentions, did he return his focus to the task at hand. Being away for so long had left him in a constant state of paranoia, never sure of whom he could trust. Even the most endearing, little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes could not sway him.
He slid out of the stall, his movements fluid, and padded slowly down the walk way. The movement of an ebony-black stallion in the furthest corner caught his eye and he made a beeline straight towards it, passing up the woman on his way. She’d started up her prattling again, though this time to the horse and Aleks felt sorry for it. It seemed that none of them would escape her scorn this morning. He couldn’t make out everything that she was saying, only catching a few words here and there. Something about putting her hands on him, the master’s son, and late-nights at the beach. Aleksandr snorted at the thought that she was actually that kind of woman. For some reason he hadn’t taken her to be.
He gave a slow, satisfied grin upon getting a closer look at the stallion. His inky coat glistened in the sunlight that cracked through the wood. With a toss of his black mane, the stallion brought his hooves down, stomping restlessly in his stall. Aleksandr gave a low whistle of approval as he slid down to rest on his haunches and cocked his head to examine its legs, ensuring that they had not been through any trauma. He needed a strong horse for what he would be doing, one that would be able to take him into battle. It was a shame that he’d been forced to sell Eous, his buckskin, exotic-breed. The man who bought him refused to pay Aleksandr what he was worth. Had he not been so short on time then he would have hunted that Judean bastard down. He knew he was making a mistake whenever he delivered the horse before payment. With a short nod, he rose himself back up before turning to amble towards the front of the stable in order to fetch one of the handlers. He would have to take it for a ride, of course, but this was the one. It had to be, as this was the only stable in this wretched town.
As he passed by, the woman was still there, still... talking. Leaning against the wooden beam to watch her, he casually brought his arms up to his chest and folded them. In his sudden strike of a good mood, Aleks tossed a small taunt her way, “Still talking to horses, I see.” He glanced past her to fully take in the situation. Why was she here? Especially, so early in the morning? The gelding seemed to be in standing position, but it was clearly being cared for by this woman.
Now that the sun had come up, with its rays peeking through the openings and crevices into the stable, Aleks could see the woman better. Her disheveled hair was falling out of its hold, honey blonde strands all over the place. Her hands seemed to be covered with some form of balmy substance and she was fidgeting with her satchel. He stood there, genuinely perplexed when it dawned on him that this situation was oddly familiar to him.
His mother. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, he was bombarded with a series of memories, once locked away. His mother. She’d been a healer in her lifetime and she spent much of her waking moments bouncing around Attia to help the various sick. Aleks could still remember the look of exhaustion on her face and her disheveled mess of hair whenever she would walk through their door at the end of a long day. The same disheveled look that this woman had.
Suddenly, uncomfortable with how strikingly she reminded him of Phaedra, he looked away. “Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.” His voice was low, guttural and he coughed to clear his throat. The sooner he found the barracks, the sooner he could get settled in.
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Aleksandr took in the quietness of the stable. Save for the nickering of horses, everything just seemed to be... peaceful. It was a strange phenomenon for him since he couldn’t remember the last time that he felt so lulled into letting his guard down. He supposed that was what such an unsuspecting place could do to you. As he shifted silently to the other side, he caught the tail end of what sounded like a greeting before a woman entered the stable. Having already become adjusted to the dim lighting, he was able to make out some of her features. Her hair was lighter, but he couldn’t quite tell to what degree, as it was pulled back out of her face. What he could tell was that she seemed rather young from her lively gait and very... mission oriented. Though, he didn’t know why. Aleks leaned in to further observe the situation when the mare suddenly sidestepped towards him, threatening to pin him against the wall. Fuck! In an attempt to move out of the way, he darted to the front, catching the woman’s attention as he did so.
"Oh, for the love of the Gods! You could have made yourself known, you know!" Her shrill voice came, much to Aleks’ displeasure, as she jumped in startlement. Her satchel hit the ground and Aleks contemplated retrieving it for her, but he figured that she was more than capable. Besides, she was casting him a look of hatred and he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. His jaw clenched and his expression was that of minor annoyance. He was prepared to stand there eyeing her down, awkwardly, while she berated him, but then without a second thought she was suddenly off to another one of the stalls. His sharp gaze tracked her movements like a predator; and only once he was sure of her intentions, did he return his focus to the task at hand. Being away for so long had left him in a constant state of paranoia, never sure of whom he could trust. Even the most endearing, little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes could not sway him.
He slid out of the stall, his movements fluid, and padded slowly down the walk way. The movement of an ebony-black stallion in the furthest corner caught his eye and he made a beeline straight towards it, passing up the woman on his way. She’d started up her prattling again, though this time to the horse and Aleks felt sorry for it. It seemed that none of them would escape her scorn this morning. He couldn’t make out everything that she was saying, only catching a few words here and there. Something about putting her hands on him, the master’s son, and late-nights at the beach. Aleksandr snorted at the thought that she was actually that kind of woman. For some reason he hadn’t taken her to be.
He gave a slow, satisfied grin upon getting a closer look at the stallion. His inky coat glistened in the sunlight that cracked through the wood. With a toss of his black mane, the stallion brought his hooves down, stomping restlessly in his stall. Aleksandr gave a low whistle of approval as he slid down to rest on his haunches and cocked his head to examine its legs, ensuring that they had not been through any trauma. He needed a strong horse for what he would be doing, one that would be able to take him into battle. It was a shame that he’d been forced to sell Eous, his buckskin, exotic-breed. The man who bought him refused to pay Aleksandr what he was worth. Had he not been so short on time then he would have hunted that Judean bastard down. He knew he was making a mistake whenever he delivered the horse before payment. With a short nod, he rose himself back up before turning to amble towards the front of the stable in order to fetch one of the handlers. He would have to take it for a ride, of course, but this was the one. It had to be, as this was the only stable in this wretched town.
As he passed by, the woman was still there, still... talking. Leaning against the wooden beam to watch her, he casually brought his arms up to his chest and folded them. In his sudden strike of a good mood, Aleks tossed a small taunt her way, “Still talking to horses, I see.” He glanced past her to fully take in the situation. Why was she here? Especially, so early in the morning? The gelding seemed to be in standing position, but it was clearly being cared for by this woman.
Now that the sun had come up, with its rays peeking through the openings and crevices into the stable, Aleks could see the woman better. Her disheveled hair was falling out of its hold, honey blonde strands all over the place. Her hands seemed to be covered with some form of balmy substance and she was fidgeting with her satchel. He stood there, genuinely perplexed when it dawned on him that this situation was oddly familiar to him.
His mother. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, he was bombarded with a series of memories, once locked away. His mother. She’d been a healer in her lifetime and she spent much of her waking moments bouncing around Attia to help the various sick. Aleks could still remember the look of exhaustion on her face and her disheveled mess of hair whenever she would walk through their door at the end of a long day. The same disheveled look that this woman had.
Suddenly, uncomfortable with how strikingly she reminded him of Phaedra, he looked away. “Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.” His voice was low, guttural and he coughed to clear his throat. The sooner he found the barracks, the sooner he could get settled in.
Aleksandr took in the quietness of the stable. Save for the nickering of horses, everything just seemed to be... peaceful. It was a strange phenomenon for him since he couldn’t remember the last time that he felt so lulled into letting his guard down. He supposed that was what such an unsuspecting place could do to you. As he shifted silently to the other side, he caught the tail end of what sounded like a greeting before a woman entered the stable. Having already become adjusted to the dim lighting, he was able to make out some of her features. Her hair was lighter, but he couldn’t quite tell to what degree, as it was pulled back out of her face. What he could tell was that she seemed rather young from her lively gait and very... mission oriented. Though, he didn’t know why. Aleks leaned in to further observe the situation when the mare suddenly sidestepped towards him, threatening to pin him against the wall. Fuck! In an attempt to move out of the way, he darted to the front, catching the woman’s attention as he did so.
"Oh, for the love of the Gods! You could have made yourself known, you know!" Her shrill voice came, much to Aleks’ displeasure, as she jumped in startlement. Her satchel hit the ground and Aleks contemplated retrieving it for her, but he figured that she was more than capable. Besides, she was casting him a look of hatred and he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. His jaw clenched and his expression was that of minor annoyance. He was prepared to stand there eyeing her down, awkwardly, while she berated him, but then without a second thought she was suddenly off to another one of the stalls. His sharp gaze tracked her movements like a predator; and only once he was sure of her intentions, did he return his focus to the task at hand. Being away for so long had left him in a constant state of paranoia, never sure of whom he could trust. Even the most endearing, little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes could not sway him.
He slid out of the stall, his movements fluid, and padded slowly down the walk way. The movement of an ebony-black stallion in the furthest corner caught his eye and he made a beeline straight towards it, passing up the woman on his way. She’d started up her prattling again, though this time to the horse and Aleks felt sorry for it. It seemed that none of them would escape her scorn this morning. He couldn’t make out everything that she was saying, only catching a few words here and there. Something about putting her hands on him, the master’s son, and late-nights at the beach. Aleksandr snorted at the thought that she was actually that kind of woman. For some reason he hadn’t taken her to be.
He gave a slow, satisfied grin upon getting a closer look at the stallion. His inky coat glistened in the sunlight that cracked through the wood. With a toss of his black mane, the stallion brought his hooves down, stomping restlessly in his stall. Aleksandr gave a low whistle of approval as he slid down to rest on his haunches and cocked his head to examine its legs, ensuring that they had not been through any trauma. He needed a strong horse for what he would be doing, one that would be able to take him into battle. It was a shame that he’d been forced to sell Eous, his buckskin, exotic-breed. The man who bought him refused to pay Aleksandr what he was worth. Had he not been so short on time then he would have hunted that Judean bastard down. He knew he was making a mistake whenever he delivered the horse before payment. With a short nod, he rose himself back up before turning to amble towards the front of the stable in order to fetch one of the handlers. He would have to take it for a ride, of course, but this was the one. It had to be, as this was the only stable in this wretched town.
As he passed by, the woman was still there, still... talking. Leaning against the wooden beam to watch her, he casually brought his arms up to his chest and folded them. In his sudden strike of a good mood, Aleks tossed a small taunt her way, “Still talking to horses, I see.” He glanced past her to fully take in the situation. Why was she here? Especially, so early in the morning? The gelding seemed to be in standing position, but it was clearly being cared for by this woman.
Now that the sun had come up, with its rays peeking through the openings and crevices into the stable, Aleks could see the woman better. Her disheveled hair was falling out of its hold, honey blonde strands all over the place. Her hands seemed to be covered with some form of balmy substance and she was fidgeting with her satchel. He stood there, genuinely perplexed when it dawned on him that this situation was oddly familiar to him.
His mother. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, he was bombarded with a series of memories, once locked away. His mother. She’d been a healer in her lifetime and she spent much of her waking moments bouncing around Attia to help the various sick. Aleks could still remember the look of exhaustion on her face and her disheveled mess of hair whenever she would walk through their door at the end of a long day. The same disheveled look that this woman had.
Suddenly, uncomfortable with how strikingly she reminded him of Phaedra, he looked away. “Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.” His voice was low, guttural and he coughed to clear his throat. The sooner he found the barracks, the sooner he could get settled in.
Had he been just going to stand there and glower at her? He obviously didn’t know who she was. Glowers didn’t scare her. She’d simply flick her hair and close her eyes and he’d be gone. Flicking her hair, she looked up at him. He was still standing there. Well, then she’d be gone but she wasn’t running and made it quite clear in her own glower. Sidestepping around him, she tried to dismiss his entire existence. She had to see a horse about a man.
As she chattered, quietly confident it was more to ease the tension in the horse than it was for her own need. A healer who could not put their patient at ease was a healer who wouldn’t do much healing, even if her patient was a pokey old gelding who pulled a cart. Awareness shot through like lightning zig-zagging across the sky. The glowering man from earlier was moving about, moving to the black stallion’s stall. For the smallest of moments, she thought about letting him know about the stallion’s past. He was well known around the White Shields barracks. She’d stitched up a man’s arm just last week that had thought he had what it took to get the ebony beasty beauty to behave.
Trying to ignore him again, as he moved over near her but she found herself sliding a measured glance over at him. He was almost a foot taller than she was. Older by maybe twelve or thirteen years? Her stormy gray eyes slid over the baldric and stopped there. Pulling her gaze back to the horse, a sardonic smile forming as if she had him all figured out.
‘Still talking to horses, I see.’ The taunting in his tone brought about an indignant snort out of her and without pause she replied simply, “That is a very astute observation you’ve made. You must be so proud of yourself.”
She could feel his gaze roaming freely over her features in a way that caught her breath in her chest and made her want to look at him to see what the expression was on his face. She did give in immediately to her whims. Letting her hands fall from the halter of the austere gelding. She turned slightly and tilted her chin confidently up at him settling her taunting stormy grey eyes back onto him.
‘Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.’ His low gravelly voice sent a shiver down her spine. Something registered in her gaze but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was looking at her with such a strangeness about him. What was he thinking about? That caught her a little by surprise. She wasn’t usually concerned what other people were thinking but she had the oddest feeling she’d have been very intrigued by the workings of this man’s mind.
He was still staring down at her. It was growing a little uncomfortable. What had he wanted to know? Horses. He wanted to purchase one of them. Tearing her curious eyes away from him, she looked down the aisle of the stable and cleared her throat. Purchase one. Should she warn him?
“Um,” She had too many things going through her mind, why was she having such a hard time separating them out. Her hand unconsciously tightened around her satchel. She swallowed, “Speak to Adrian… he’s the lad in charge today.” Flicking a quick glance at the black beast the warning hung in her throat. Ismene shouldn’t stick her nose in the man’s business, but…
Her gaze settled on the man again, thoughts were warring across her features as her eyebrows scrunched and her lips set tightly on her face. The little voice inside her head spoke up then and there. Oh, Isi! If he gets hurt it’ll be on your head. And as always, it sounded remarkably like her sister's voice.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” She stiffened her spine and administered a look that had caused quite a few soldiers to wither. Her hands on her hips, she looked him up and down. “Pretty is as pretty does…” She shrugged then, “Plus I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”
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Had he been just going to stand there and glower at her? He obviously didn’t know who she was. Glowers didn’t scare her. She’d simply flick her hair and close her eyes and he’d be gone. Flicking her hair, she looked up at him. He was still standing there. Well, then she’d be gone but she wasn’t running and made it quite clear in her own glower. Sidestepping around him, she tried to dismiss his entire existence. She had to see a horse about a man.
As she chattered, quietly confident it was more to ease the tension in the horse than it was for her own need. A healer who could not put their patient at ease was a healer who wouldn’t do much healing, even if her patient was a pokey old gelding who pulled a cart. Awareness shot through like lightning zig-zagging across the sky. The glowering man from earlier was moving about, moving to the black stallion’s stall. For the smallest of moments, she thought about letting him know about the stallion’s past. He was well known around the White Shields barracks. She’d stitched up a man’s arm just last week that had thought he had what it took to get the ebony beasty beauty to behave.
Trying to ignore him again, as he moved over near her but she found herself sliding a measured glance over at him. He was almost a foot taller than she was. Older by maybe twelve or thirteen years? Her stormy gray eyes slid over the baldric and stopped there. Pulling her gaze back to the horse, a sardonic smile forming as if she had him all figured out.
‘Still talking to horses, I see.’ The taunting in his tone brought about an indignant snort out of her and without pause she replied simply, “That is a very astute observation you’ve made. You must be so proud of yourself.”
She could feel his gaze roaming freely over her features in a way that caught her breath in her chest and made her want to look at him to see what the expression was on his face. She did give in immediately to her whims. Letting her hands fall from the halter of the austere gelding. She turned slightly and tilted her chin confidently up at him settling her taunting stormy grey eyes back onto him.
‘Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.’ His low gravelly voice sent a shiver down her spine. Something registered in her gaze but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was looking at her with such a strangeness about him. What was he thinking about? That caught her a little by surprise. She wasn’t usually concerned what other people were thinking but she had the oddest feeling she’d have been very intrigued by the workings of this man’s mind.
He was still staring down at her. It was growing a little uncomfortable. What had he wanted to know? Horses. He wanted to purchase one of them. Tearing her curious eyes away from him, she looked down the aisle of the stable and cleared her throat. Purchase one. Should she warn him?
“Um,” She had too many things going through her mind, why was she having such a hard time separating them out. Her hand unconsciously tightened around her satchel. She swallowed, “Speak to Adrian… he’s the lad in charge today.” Flicking a quick glance at the black beast the warning hung in her throat. Ismene shouldn’t stick her nose in the man’s business, but…
Her gaze settled on the man again, thoughts were warring across her features as her eyebrows scrunched and her lips set tightly on her face. The little voice inside her head spoke up then and there. Oh, Isi! If he gets hurt it’ll be on your head. And as always, it sounded remarkably like her sister's voice.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” She stiffened her spine and administered a look that had caused quite a few soldiers to wither. Her hands on her hips, she looked him up and down. “Pretty is as pretty does…” She shrugged then, “Plus I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”
Had he been just going to stand there and glower at her? He obviously didn’t know who she was. Glowers didn’t scare her. She’d simply flick her hair and close her eyes and he’d be gone. Flicking her hair, she looked up at him. He was still standing there. Well, then she’d be gone but she wasn’t running and made it quite clear in her own glower. Sidestepping around him, she tried to dismiss his entire existence. She had to see a horse about a man.
As she chattered, quietly confident it was more to ease the tension in the horse than it was for her own need. A healer who could not put their patient at ease was a healer who wouldn’t do much healing, even if her patient was a pokey old gelding who pulled a cart. Awareness shot through like lightning zig-zagging across the sky. The glowering man from earlier was moving about, moving to the black stallion’s stall. For the smallest of moments, she thought about letting him know about the stallion’s past. He was well known around the White Shields barracks. She’d stitched up a man’s arm just last week that had thought he had what it took to get the ebony beasty beauty to behave.
Trying to ignore him again, as he moved over near her but she found herself sliding a measured glance over at him. He was almost a foot taller than she was. Older by maybe twelve or thirteen years? Her stormy gray eyes slid over the baldric and stopped there. Pulling her gaze back to the horse, a sardonic smile forming as if she had him all figured out.
‘Still talking to horses, I see.’ The taunting in his tone brought about an indignant snort out of her and without pause she replied simply, “That is a very astute observation you’ve made. You must be so proud of yourself.”
She could feel his gaze roaming freely over her features in a way that caught her breath in her chest and made her want to look at him to see what the expression was on his face. She did give in immediately to her whims. Letting her hands fall from the halter of the austere gelding. She turned slightly and tilted her chin confidently up at him settling her taunting stormy grey eyes back onto him.
‘Do you, by chance, know where – Uh – I can find the handler for these horses? I intend to purchase one.’ His low gravelly voice sent a shiver down her spine. Something registered in her gaze but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He was looking at her with such a strangeness about him. What was he thinking about? That caught her a little by surprise. She wasn’t usually concerned what other people were thinking but she had the oddest feeling she’d have been very intrigued by the workings of this man’s mind.
He was still staring down at her. It was growing a little uncomfortable. What had he wanted to know? Horses. He wanted to purchase one of them. Tearing her curious eyes away from him, she looked down the aisle of the stable and cleared her throat. Purchase one. Should she warn him?
“Um,” She had too many things going through her mind, why was she having such a hard time separating them out. Her hand unconsciously tightened around her satchel. She swallowed, “Speak to Adrian… he’s the lad in charge today.” Flicking a quick glance at the black beast the warning hung in her throat. Ismene shouldn’t stick her nose in the man’s business, but…
Her gaze settled on the man again, thoughts were warring across her features as her eyebrows scrunched and her lips set tightly on her face. The little voice inside her head spoke up then and there. Oh, Isi! If he gets hurt it’ll be on your head. And as always, it sounded remarkably like her sister's voice.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” She stiffened her spine and administered a look that had caused quite a few soldiers to wither. Her hands on her hips, she looked him up and down. “Pretty is as pretty does…” She shrugged then, “Plus I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”
Aleksandr’s glare cooled as he slowly, but surely, regained his grip on reality. He hadn’t expected something as maudlin as that to suddenly overtake him – His memories. He hadn’t thought about his mother, let alone his father, in so long and a sense of guilt seeped in. In order to ease it, he resolved to discuss some way to honor their memory with his madar bozorg once she arrived. Azadi loved involving herself in tasks such as that. No doubt she would say a prayer or offering to Rashnu in hopes of passing on a message to his deceased parents.
Still, he couldn’t shake the embarrassment he felt over letting such a small thing bother him that much, especially now... In public. Fortunately, he was able to bring his attention back onto the girl and his typical, self-controlled expression followed suit.
He caught the way her chin tilted up in pride at her little quip, clearly amused with herself, and he registered how this would play out. If he could have scoffed, then he would have. Sarcastic, vain, prissy, and probably no fun... She was one of those girls. He was even willing to wager that her prudish ways had scared off many of boys her age. In fact, she was the bane of the existence for a man like him. And for some reason he just wanted to laugh in her face. Of course, that probably wouldn’t go over too well. So, instead, he just kept his lips in a thin line with indistinguishable (by her at least) amusement in his eyes.
“Speak to Adrian,” she’d said before seeming to struggle with her thoughts. He watched the way her blonde brows furrowed delicately in frustration over stormy eyes in deep contemplation. Hmm... She seemed pretty enough. Nice eyes... Dark lashes... Just because she was a pain didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her beauty. Had he been feeling more playful, then he would have taken an obvious gander at the rest of her... ahem, assets. Regretfully, old boy was being the gentleman today, so he kept his gaze above her collarbone. Besides, she’d probably squawk like a hen and he just didn’t have time for that.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” Her stern eyes glanced over him and her hands found their way to her hips... Nice hips. He dutifully noted. He raised a brow, arms crossed. Was she trying to intimidate him...?“Pretty is as pretty does… Plus, I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”Oh. So, that is how things were with her.
Aleks bit the bottom of his lip, as he carefully constructed his next words. “You know,” He began with an inviting smile and a tone of allurement, “Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.” He let his intense gaze purposefully settle on her, completely unabashed, and continued on. “But, I think that I have other plans.”
“I want to break him.” He glanced back at the stallion, restless in its quarters, before providing her with a sudden look of inquiry. Yes, of course. She seemed very knowledgeable! He would lease the calmer one, but he wanted the stallion. He had to come up with a plan to get it and she would help him! “I have experience in breaking things.”Bones... Various objects... Women...“And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about...” Flattery, flattery, and more flattery. The complimentary words just fell from his lips like sweet honey. He was used to telling a woman what she wanted to hear, truly. So what if he was maybe, kinda, sorta using her? It didn’t mean that she wouldn’t get anything out of it. He would find some way to recompense her for her time. “If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.” He added in quickly, “Whatever you want.”
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Aleksandr’s glare cooled as he slowly, but surely, regained his grip on reality. He hadn’t expected something as maudlin as that to suddenly overtake him – His memories. He hadn’t thought about his mother, let alone his father, in so long and a sense of guilt seeped in. In order to ease it, he resolved to discuss some way to honor their memory with his madar bozorg once she arrived. Azadi loved involving herself in tasks such as that. No doubt she would say a prayer or offering to Rashnu in hopes of passing on a message to his deceased parents.
Still, he couldn’t shake the embarrassment he felt over letting such a small thing bother him that much, especially now... In public. Fortunately, he was able to bring his attention back onto the girl and his typical, self-controlled expression followed suit.
He caught the way her chin tilted up in pride at her little quip, clearly amused with herself, and he registered how this would play out. If he could have scoffed, then he would have. Sarcastic, vain, prissy, and probably no fun... She was one of those girls. He was even willing to wager that her prudish ways had scared off many of boys her age. In fact, she was the bane of the existence for a man like him. And for some reason he just wanted to laugh in her face. Of course, that probably wouldn’t go over too well. So, instead, he just kept his lips in a thin line with indistinguishable (by her at least) amusement in his eyes.
“Speak to Adrian,” she’d said before seeming to struggle with her thoughts. He watched the way her blonde brows furrowed delicately in frustration over stormy eyes in deep contemplation. Hmm... She seemed pretty enough. Nice eyes... Dark lashes... Just because she was a pain didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her beauty. Had he been feeling more playful, then he would have taken an obvious gander at the rest of her... ahem, assets. Regretfully, old boy was being the gentleman today, so he kept his gaze above her collarbone. Besides, she’d probably squawk like a hen and he just didn’t have time for that.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” Her stern eyes glanced over him and her hands found their way to her hips... Nice hips. He dutifully noted. He raised a brow, arms crossed. Was she trying to intimidate him...?“Pretty is as pretty does… Plus, I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”Oh. So, that is how things were with her.
Aleks bit the bottom of his lip, as he carefully constructed his next words. “You know,” He began with an inviting smile and a tone of allurement, “Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.” He let his intense gaze purposefully settle on her, completely unabashed, and continued on. “But, I think that I have other plans.”
“I want to break him.” He glanced back at the stallion, restless in its quarters, before providing her with a sudden look of inquiry. Yes, of course. She seemed very knowledgeable! He would lease the calmer one, but he wanted the stallion. He had to come up with a plan to get it and she would help him! “I have experience in breaking things.”Bones... Various objects... Women...“And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about...” Flattery, flattery, and more flattery. The complimentary words just fell from his lips like sweet honey. He was used to telling a woman what she wanted to hear, truly. So what if he was maybe, kinda, sorta using her? It didn’t mean that she wouldn’t get anything out of it. He would find some way to recompense her for her time. “If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.” He added in quickly, “Whatever you want.”
Aleksandr’s glare cooled as he slowly, but surely, regained his grip on reality. He hadn’t expected something as maudlin as that to suddenly overtake him – His memories. He hadn’t thought about his mother, let alone his father, in so long and a sense of guilt seeped in. In order to ease it, he resolved to discuss some way to honor their memory with his madar bozorg once she arrived. Azadi loved involving herself in tasks such as that. No doubt she would say a prayer or offering to Rashnu in hopes of passing on a message to his deceased parents.
Still, he couldn’t shake the embarrassment he felt over letting such a small thing bother him that much, especially now... In public. Fortunately, he was able to bring his attention back onto the girl and his typical, self-controlled expression followed suit.
He caught the way her chin tilted up in pride at her little quip, clearly amused with herself, and he registered how this would play out. If he could have scoffed, then he would have. Sarcastic, vain, prissy, and probably no fun... She was one of those girls. He was even willing to wager that her prudish ways had scared off many of boys her age. In fact, she was the bane of the existence for a man like him. And for some reason he just wanted to laugh in her face. Of course, that probably wouldn’t go over too well. So, instead, he just kept his lips in a thin line with indistinguishable (by her at least) amusement in his eyes.
“Speak to Adrian,” she’d said before seeming to struggle with her thoughts. He watched the way her blonde brows furrowed delicately in frustration over stormy eyes in deep contemplation. Hmm... She seemed pretty enough. Nice eyes... Dark lashes... Just because she was a pain didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate her beauty. Had he been feeling more playful, then he would have taken an obvious gander at the rest of her... ahem, assets. Regretfully, old boy was being the gentleman today, so he kept his gaze above her collarbone. Besides, she’d probably squawk like a hen and he just didn’t have time for that.
“You want the chestnut mare, soldier.” Her stern eyes glanced over him and her hands found their way to her hips... Nice hips. He dutifully noted. He raised a brow, arms crossed. Was she trying to intimidate him...?“Pretty is as pretty does… Plus, I don’t want to have to stitch you up… I have other plans for today.”Oh. So, that is how things were with her.
Aleks bit the bottom of his lip, as he carefully constructed his next words. “You know,” He began with an inviting smile and a tone of allurement, “Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.” He let his intense gaze purposefully settle on her, completely unabashed, and continued on. “But, I think that I have other plans.”
“I want to break him.” He glanced back at the stallion, restless in its quarters, before providing her with a sudden look of inquiry. Yes, of course. She seemed very knowledgeable! He would lease the calmer one, but he wanted the stallion. He had to come up with a plan to get it and she would help him! “I have experience in breaking things.”Bones... Various objects... Women...“And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about...” Flattery, flattery, and more flattery. The complimentary words just fell from his lips like sweet honey. He was used to telling a woman what she wanted to hear, truly. So what if he was maybe, kinda, sorta using her? It didn’t mean that she wouldn’t get anything out of it. He would find some way to recompense her for her time. “If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.” He added in quickly, “Whatever you want.”
There was a definite magnetism in the tone he used with her, but she was a young woman raised in a man’s world. Did he think this was the first time someone had tried to play patty cakes with her? It was obvious he scooted by with women with his charm and his rugged jawline and dark eyes. It didn’t slip past him that his gaze roved over her hips as her hands landed on them. He was definitely full of… something. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes formed on his lips generating an inward snort.
‘Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.’ A quick flash of amusement in her cool gaze, before she glanced around him to stare down the aisle for a moment before he spoke again. ‘But, I think that I have other plans.’ Flicking her gaze back up to him she licked her lips and held his gaze for a moment. Did he now?
She wasn’t going to be his sweet salvation, the one who warmed his bed and fell for those practiced lines. He simply didn’t know who he was dealing with. Ismene’s hands came up to hold onto the strap of her satchel, her nails digging softly into the leather. It was very obvious to her that he was the sort of man who rarely heard the word, ‘no’, probably from men or women but especially from the latter.
‘I want to break him.’ She followed his eyes back to beasty beauty and her smile slowly evaporated. Well, she couldn’t make him take her advice. It was him who would have to suffer the consequences of that black terror’s temper. Drawing her cool gaze back onto him, she let it slowly travel over the lines of his face. There was a roughness to the face, lines that she couldn’t tell if they’d formed at laughing or from hardships, but probably some mixture of both. She knew most of the men in the White Shields, and they knew her. He wasn’t someone she knew which meant he was either new or he wouldn’t be here that long. If the first, he’d learn quickly enough she was off-limits. If the second, she didn’t waste her time forming attachments to people who would just end up walking out of her life.
Without another glance, she moved to step around him and let him get on with his plan of self-destruction. Ismene wasn’t the sort of girl to stop you if you wanted to push your limits. He spoke though, ‘I have experience in breaking things.’ His choice of words stopped her. He’d not said, I have experience breaking horses. He’d chosen his words carefully. Deliberately. Tilting her head, she let her aloof gaze go over him from his feet, slowly deliberately upwards until she met his gaze.
In case he hadn’t realized it, she was giving him an opportunity to speak before she walked out of the stable and continued on with the rest of her day. He seemed to though and spoke again, knowing he had her momentary attention, ‘And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about…’ She almost smiled and rolled her eyes. He’d been so close to interesting her, but he still seemed to think he was the first boy to ever try and play patty cakes with her. Flattery. Except it was meaningless. He didn’t know enough about her to know whether she did or didn’t.
Turning her head, she started back the way she’d come in earlier, she was almost in front of the chestnut mare’s stalls when he called her attention again. That deep, gravelly voice causing her to stop in her tracks. She couldn’t control her body to keep walking, even if that’s exactly what she’d wanted to do at that moment. ‘If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.’ She was frozen. What had he just asked? Had he asked her to help him with that crazy lunatic? He couldn’t have. He quickly added, ‘Whatever you want.’
She slowly turned her body to look at him. The delicate features of her face appearing perplexed as she stared at him. She didn’t even like horses really. Why in the world would he want her to help him? What game was he up to? Crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?” It was a terrible idea. A really, really bad idea. But the thought that he could owe her something. Whatever she wanted… Maybe he knew more about her than she thought... he knew exactly what to offer to lure her into at least thinking about it.
Tilting her head, she took a hesitant step forward and decided not to listen to the little voice in her head telling her she should walk out of there right then. “Whatever I want….Hmmm?”
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There was a definite magnetism in the tone he used with her, but she was a young woman raised in a man’s world. Did he think this was the first time someone had tried to play patty cakes with her? It was obvious he scooted by with women with his charm and his rugged jawline and dark eyes. It didn’t slip past him that his gaze roved over her hips as her hands landed on them. He was definitely full of… something. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes formed on his lips generating an inward snort.
‘Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.’ A quick flash of amusement in her cool gaze, before she glanced around him to stare down the aisle for a moment before he spoke again. ‘But, I think that I have other plans.’ Flicking her gaze back up to him she licked her lips and held his gaze for a moment. Did he now?
She wasn’t going to be his sweet salvation, the one who warmed his bed and fell for those practiced lines. He simply didn’t know who he was dealing with. Ismene’s hands came up to hold onto the strap of her satchel, her nails digging softly into the leather. It was very obvious to her that he was the sort of man who rarely heard the word, ‘no’, probably from men or women but especially from the latter.
‘I want to break him.’ She followed his eyes back to beasty beauty and her smile slowly evaporated. Well, she couldn’t make him take her advice. It was him who would have to suffer the consequences of that black terror’s temper. Drawing her cool gaze back onto him, she let it slowly travel over the lines of his face. There was a roughness to the face, lines that she couldn’t tell if they’d formed at laughing or from hardships, but probably some mixture of both. She knew most of the men in the White Shields, and they knew her. He wasn’t someone she knew which meant he was either new or he wouldn’t be here that long. If the first, he’d learn quickly enough she was off-limits. If the second, she didn’t waste her time forming attachments to people who would just end up walking out of her life.
Without another glance, she moved to step around him and let him get on with his plan of self-destruction. Ismene wasn’t the sort of girl to stop you if you wanted to push your limits. He spoke though, ‘I have experience in breaking things.’ His choice of words stopped her. He’d not said, I have experience breaking horses. He’d chosen his words carefully. Deliberately. Tilting her head, she let her aloof gaze go over him from his feet, slowly deliberately upwards until she met his gaze.
In case he hadn’t realized it, she was giving him an opportunity to speak before she walked out of the stable and continued on with the rest of her day. He seemed to though and spoke again, knowing he had her momentary attention, ‘And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about…’ She almost smiled and rolled her eyes. He’d been so close to interesting her, but he still seemed to think he was the first boy to ever try and play patty cakes with her. Flattery. Except it was meaningless. He didn’t know enough about her to know whether she did or didn’t.
Turning her head, she started back the way she’d come in earlier, she was almost in front of the chestnut mare’s stalls when he called her attention again. That deep, gravelly voice causing her to stop in her tracks. She couldn’t control her body to keep walking, even if that’s exactly what she’d wanted to do at that moment. ‘If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.’ She was frozen. What had he just asked? Had he asked her to help him with that crazy lunatic? He couldn’t have. He quickly added, ‘Whatever you want.’
She slowly turned her body to look at him. The delicate features of her face appearing perplexed as she stared at him. She didn’t even like horses really. Why in the world would he want her to help him? What game was he up to? Crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?” It was a terrible idea. A really, really bad idea. But the thought that he could owe her something. Whatever she wanted… Maybe he knew more about her than she thought... he knew exactly what to offer to lure her into at least thinking about it.
Tilting her head, she took a hesitant step forward and decided not to listen to the little voice in her head telling her she should walk out of there right then. “Whatever I want….Hmmm?”
There was a definite magnetism in the tone he used with her, but she was a young woman raised in a man’s world. Did he think this was the first time someone had tried to play patty cakes with her? It was obvious he scooted by with women with his charm and his rugged jawline and dark eyes. It didn’t slip past him that his gaze roved over her hips as her hands landed on them. He was definitely full of… something. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes formed on his lips generating an inward snort.
‘Normally, I don’t mind being ordered around by women. Especially one with such nice eyes and who seems to care about my well-being.’ A quick flash of amusement in her cool gaze, before she glanced around him to stare down the aisle for a moment before he spoke again. ‘But, I think that I have other plans.’ Flicking her gaze back up to him she licked her lips and held his gaze for a moment. Did he now?
She wasn’t going to be his sweet salvation, the one who warmed his bed and fell for those practiced lines. He simply didn’t know who he was dealing with. Ismene’s hands came up to hold onto the strap of her satchel, her nails digging softly into the leather. It was very obvious to her that he was the sort of man who rarely heard the word, ‘no’, probably from men or women but especially from the latter.
‘I want to break him.’ She followed his eyes back to beasty beauty and her smile slowly evaporated. Well, she couldn’t make him take her advice. It was him who would have to suffer the consequences of that black terror’s temper. Drawing her cool gaze back onto him, she let it slowly travel over the lines of his face. There was a roughness to the face, lines that she couldn’t tell if they’d formed at laughing or from hardships, but probably some mixture of both. She knew most of the men in the White Shields, and they knew her. He wasn’t someone she knew which meant he was either new or he wouldn’t be here that long. If the first, he’d learn quickly enough she was off-limits. If the second, she didn’t waste her time forming attachments to people who would just end up walking out of her life.
Without another glance, she moved to step around him and let him get on with his plan of self-destruction. Ismene wasn’t the sort of girl to stop you if you wanted to push your limits. He spoke though, ‘I have experience in breaking things.’ His choice of words stopped her. He’d not said, I have experience breaking horses. He’d chosen his words carefully. Deliberately. Tilting her head, she let her aloof gaze go over him from his feet, slowly deliberately upwards until she met his gaze.
In case he hadn’t realized it, she was giving him an opportunity to speak before she walked out of the stable and continued on with the rest of her day. He seemed to though and spoke again, knowing he had her momentary attention, ‘And you seem like a woman who knows what she is talking about…’ She almost smiled and rolled her eyes. He’d been so close to interesting her, but he still seemed to think he was the first boy to ever try and play patty cakes with her. Flattery. Except it was meaningless. He didn’t know enough about her to know whether she did or didn’t.
Turning her head, she started back the way she’d come in earlier, she was almost in front of the chestnut mare’s stalls when he called her attention again. That deep, gravelly voice causing her to stop in her tracks. She couldn’t control her body to keep walking, even if that’s exactly what she’d wanted to do at that moment. ‘If you help me, I am willing to come to an agreement with you in exchange.’ She was frozen. What had he just asked? Had he asked her to help him with that crazy lunatic? He couldn’t have. He quickly added, ‘Whatever you want.’
She slowly turned her body to look at him. The delicate features of her face appearing perplexed as she stared at him. She didn’t even like horses really. Why in the world would he want her to help him? What game was he up to? Crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?” It was a terrible idea. A really, really bad idea. But the thought that he could owe her something. Whatever she wanted… Maybe he knew more about her than she thought... he knew exactly what to offer to lure her into at least thinking about it.
Tilting her head, she took a hesitant step forward and decided not to listen to the little voice in her head telling her she should walk out of there right then. “Whatever I want….Hmmm?”
Aleks kept his nonchalant position and watched the girl go through a series of thoughts and emotions. The wheels were turning in her mind and he could see it plainly on her face, in her expressive, tumultuous eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like she made an effort to hide what she was thinking. Unfortunately.
"I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?" Her clipped voice came and she crossed her arms. Gods, was she always this friendly? First, she’d come into the barn barking at him for startling her, which he supposed could be forgiven, considering the circumstances. But then, she’d made her sarcastic jeers, which were uncalled for. She was clearly mocking him, which he admittedly may or may not have deserved. But that didn’t take away the obviously painful fact that the chip on her shoulder was bigger than her vanity and he wanted to howl with laughter at her uncanny ability to be a bitch. No wonder she was still a -
“Wait, what?” Aleks’ train of thought came crashing to a halt as he took in her words. Nothing about horses?“Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?”
He leaned back and examined her, his fingers tapping against his arm. Was she toying with him? Why had she made such an effort to give her opinion then if she didn’t know what she was speaking about to begin with? Did she just like the sound of her own voice? Women! This, this was why he remained unattached! They were a different species entirely! Of course, Aleks’ betrayed none of his confusion, keeping his expression purely neutral in his assessment of what the fuck was going on. “Even if that is true...” He began slowly, “You are still not entirely useless.”
As loathe as he was to do it, putting aside her stand-offish nature, he’d seen what she could do. Her healing. Even though she was a rather spiteful human being, she must have had some inkling of a heart in there. Because nobody in their right mind gets up at the break of dawn to talk to a damn horse. He grumbled inwardly. Perhaps, she was just bitter towards men...? And once more, his mind was drifting back to unlocking her once again. Gods, help him.
He cleared his throat, and thoughts by proxy, when she echoed his offer. A glint of interest flickered across her face. For the tiniest of moments, that made him happy, but he could never admit why.
“Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.”
However, no sooner than the promise left his mouth, his countenance darkened. Pondering her little, gleeful expression, he ran a hand through his dark hair in uncertainty. “Dare I ask what it is you want?”
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Aleks kept his nonchalant position and watched the girl go through a series of thoughts and emotions. The wheels were turning in her mind and he could see it plainly on her face, in her expressive, tumultuous eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like she made an effort to hide what she was thinking. Unfortunately.
"I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?" Her clipped voice came and she crossed her arms. Gods, was she always this friendly? First, she’d come into the barn barking at him for startling her, which he supposed could be forgiven, considering the circumstances. But then, she’d made her sarcastic jeers, which were uncalled for. She was clearly mocking him, which he admittedly may or may not have deserved. But that didn’t take away the obviously painful fact that the chip on her shoulder was bigger than her vanity and he wanted to howl with laughter at her uncanny ability to be a bitch. No wonder she was still a -
“Wait, what?” Aleks’ train of thought came crashing to a halt as he took in her words. Nothing about horses?“Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?”
He leaned back and examined her, his fingers tapping against his arm. Was she toying with him? Why had she made such an effort to give her opinion then if she didn’t know what she was speaking about to begin with? Did she just like the sound of her own voice? Women! This, this was why he remained unattached! They were a different species entirely! Of course, Aleks’ betrayed none of his confusion, keeping his expression purely neutral in his assessment of what the fuck was going on. “Even if that is true...” He began slowly, “You are still not entirely useless.”
As loathe as he was to do it, putting aside her stand-offish nature, he’d seen what she could do. Her healing. Even though she was a rather spiteful human being, she must have had some inkling of a heart in there. Because nobody in their right mind gets up at the break of dawn to talk to a damn horse. He grumbled inwardly. Perhaps, she was just bitter towards men...? And once more, his mind was drifting back to unlocking her once again. Gods, help him.
He cleared his throat, and thoughts by proxy, when she echoed his offer. A glint of interest flickered across her face. For the tiniest of moments, that made him happy, but he could never admit why.
“Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.”
However, no sooner than the promise left his mouth, his countenance darkened. Pondering her little, gleeful expression, he ran a hand through his dark hair in uncertainty. “Dare I ask what it is you want?”
Aleks kept his nonchalant position and watched the girl go through a series of thoughts and emotions. The wheels were turning in her mind and he could see it plainly on her face, in her expressive, tumultuous eyes. Besides, it wasn’t like she made an effort to hide what she was thinking. Unfortunately.
"I don’t know anything about horses, just what sort of help do you think I’ll be?" Her clipped voice came and she crossed her arms. Gods, was she always this friendly? First, she’d come into the barn barking at him for startling her, which he supposed could be forgiven, considering the circumstances. But then, she’d made her sarcastic jeers, which were uncalled for. She was clearly mocking him, which he admittedly may or may not have deserved. But that didn’t take away the obviously painful fact that the chip on her shoulder was bigger than her vanity and he wanted to howl with laughter at her uncanny ability to be a bitch. No wonder she was still a -
“Wait, what?” Aleks’ train of thought came crashing to a halt as he took in her words. Nothing about horses?“Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?”
He leaned back and examined her, his fingers tapping against his arm. Was she toying with him? Why had she made such an effort to give her opinion then if she didn’t know what she was speaking about to begin with? Did she just like the sound of her own voice? Women! This, this was why he remained unattached! They were a different species entirely! Of course, Aleks’ betrayed none of his confusion, keeping his expression purely neutral in his assessment of what the fuck was going on. “Even if that is true...” He began slowly, “You are still not entirely useless.”
As loathe as he was to do it, putting aside her stand-offish nature, he’d seen what she could do. Her healing. Even though she was a rather spiteful human being, she must have had some inkling of a heart in there. Because nobody in their right mind gets up at the break of dawn to talk to a damn horse. He grumbled inwardly. Perhaps, she was just bitter towards men...? And once more, his mind was drifting back to unlocking her once again. Gods, help him.
He cleared his throat, and thoughts by proxy, when she echoed his offer. A glint of interest flickered across her face. For the tiniest of moments, that made him happy, but he could never admit why.
“Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.”
However, no sooner than the promise left his mouth, his countenance darkened. Pondering her little, gleeful expression, he ran a hand through his dark hair in uncertainty. “Dare I ask what it is you want?”
It was easy to assume that the small, fair-haired girl was delicate and breakable. That she’d be crushed by the lightest of blows but it couldn’t be further from the truth. She’d grown up without a mother. Her father had left for war and been returned home broken and tattered. She’d seen miss-a-meal dinners and nights that she didn’t know what the next day would bring for her. So, maybe she did look delicate but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Her morality was a little frayed around the edges and what was left of her soul might have been a bit black but lucky for Ismene she had he mental fortitude of an ox. When things got tough, Ismene dug down and got just a little tougher. It was that obdurate nature that got her into so much trouble.
‘Wait, What?’ She narrowed her eyes at him, was he the village idiot or something? She knew she hadn’t been mumbling. ‘Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?’ With an undignified snort of disapproval, she didn’t even bother trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. “First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies. Secondly, you really shouldn’t go around and make assumptions.” Her tone was as briny as the Aegean Sea, but she continued with her hands still crossed under her chest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that, when you ‘assume’ something you make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, “Mostly you but… that’s not how the saying goes.”
She watched him lean back a little, he looked far content with himself. It was nerve-wracking, annoying, and… entirely too irresistible. Her molars grated against one another as her fingernails dug into her arm giving her an indelicate pinch. That lazy way about him was like lighting a fuse in her. Stiffening her spine, “I can also tell you the 'otherwise' because I stitched up his last owner just a few days ago after that beast tried to rip his arm off.” Ismene was going to completely overlook that had been one of the most interesting things she’d done this month. What this man didn’t know, didn’t hurt him? So what if she’d been trying to be nice and save him from losing an arm. No! In fact, she didn’t care at all. Maybe he would get hurt and then she’d have something interesting to do. Exactly. Yes. That’s the hope she was going to hold onto.
‘Even if that is true…’ She gave him a look for the slow way he was getting to what he was about to say. ‘You are still not entirely useless.’
Her grey eyes widened with unadulterated surprise with a twinge of indignation. She blinked and then a brittle, sardonic laugh escaped, “Wow. Umm... Yes. You are completely right.” The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gave him a thumbs-up as she bobbed her head in agreement causing her wavy blonde ponytail to bounce. “I am still not entirely useless.” I’ll remember that when I am sewing up your sorry ass. Gods this man’s nerve! Her mouth shot off again full of sarcasm. “Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child.” Did this man even have a clue how insulting that sounded to her?
Granted his offer had merit and for half a moment, she wanted to entertain it but…
He cleared his throat and agreed that she’d heard him correctly, ‘Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.’ It might not have been as condescending if he hadn’t stressed the word, ‘if’.
Staring at him with a renewed interest, he had far too much gall. Something seemed to register in his mind at the offer though. She didn’t miss the shift made in him. Oooo! He’s got second thoughts now. Her eyes followed his hand running through his hair, ‘Dare I ask what it is you want?’
After a moment of deliberation, she shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I am not even certain you could grant me anything I’d want.” Tilting her head, she bit the inside of her cheek and pointedly looked him up and down again. Slowly, she stepped towards him again until she was standing about a foot in front of him. “Nor do I even know if you are honorable enough to uphold such bargain.” Looking up at him from her thick lashes, “What would keep you from riding off into the sunset on that black beasty before you paid your debt?”
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It was easy to assume that the small, fair-haired girl was delicate and breakable. That she’d be crushed by the lightest of blows but it couldn’t be further from the truth. She’d grown up without a mother. Her father had left for war and been returned home broken and tattered. She’d seen miss-a-meal dinners and nights that she didn’t know what the next day would bring for her. So, maybe she did look delicate but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Her morality was a little frayed around the edges and what was left of her soul might have been a bit black but lucky for Ismene she had he mental fortitude of an ox. When things got tough, Ismene dug down and got just a little tougher. It was that obdurate nature that got her into so much trouble.
‘Wait, What?’ She narrowed her eyes at him, was he the village idiot or something? She knew she hadn’t been mumbling. ‘Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?’ With an undignified snort of disapproval, she didn’t even bother trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. “First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies. Secondly, you really shouldn’t go around and make assumptions.” Her tone was as briny as the Aegean Sea, but she continued with her hands still crossed under her chest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that, when you ‘assume’ something you make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, “Mostly you but… that’s not how the saying goes.”
She watched him lean back a little, he looked far content with himself. It was nerve-wracking, annoying, and… entirely too irresistible. Her molars grated against one another as her fingernails dug into her arm giving her an indelicate pinch. That lazy way about him was like lighting a fuse in her. Stiffening her spine, “I can also tell you the 'otherwise' because I stitched up his last owner just a few days ago after that beast tried to rip his arm off.” Ismene was going to completely overlook that had been one of the most interesting things she’d done this month. What this man didn’t know, didn’t hurt him? So what if she’d been trying to be nice and save him from losing an arm. No! In fact, she didn’t care at all. Maybe he would get hurt and then she’d have something interesting to do. Exactly. Yes. That’s the hope she was going to hold onto.
‘Even if that is true…’ She gave him a look for the slow way he was getting to what he was about to say. ‘You are still not entirely useless.’
Her grey eyes widened with unadulterated surprise with a twinge of indignation. She blinked and then a brittle, sardonic laugh escaped, “Wow. Umm... Yes. You are completely right.” The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gave him a thumbs-up as she bobbed her head in agreement causing her wavy blonde ponytail to bounce. “I am still not entirely useless.” I’ll remember that when I am sewing up your sorry ass. Gods this man’s nerve! Her mouth shot off again full of sarcasm. “Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child.” Did this man even have a clue how insulting that sounded to her?
Granted his offer had merit and for half a moment, she wanted to entertain it but…
He cleared his throat and agreed that she’d heard him correctly, ‘Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.’ It might not have been as condescending if he hadn’t stressed the word, ‘if’.
Staring at him with a renewed interest, he had far too much gall. Something seemed to register in his mind at the offer though. She didn’t miss the shift made in him. Oooo! He’s got second thoughts now. Her eyes followed his hand running through his hair, ‘Dare I ask what it is you want?’
After a moment of deliberation, she shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I am not even certain you could grant me anything I’d want.” Tilting her head, she bit the inside of her cheek and pointedly looked him up and down again. Slowly, she stepped towards him again until she was standing about a foot in front of him. “Nor do I even know if you are honorable enough to uphold such bargain.” Looking up at him from her thick lashes, “What would keep you from riding off into the sunset on that black beasty before you paid your debt?”
It was easy to assume that the small, fair-haired girl was delicate and breakable. That she’d be crushed by the lightest of blows but it couldn’t be further from the truth. She’d grown up without a mother. Her father had left for war and been returned home broken and tattered. She’d seen miss-a-meal dinners and nights that she didn’t know what the next day would bring for her. So, maybe she did look delicate but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Her morality was a little frayed around the edges and what was left of her soul might have been a bit black but lucky for Ismene she had he mental fortitude of an ox. When things got tough, Ismene dug down and got just a little tougher. It was that obdurate nature that got her into so much trouble.
‘Wait, What?’ She narrowed her eyes at him, was he the village idiot or something? She knew she hadn’t been mumbling. ‘Nonsense. You were pretty keen about that chestnut mare over there, so how can you tell me otherwise?’ With an undignified snort of disapproval, she didn’t even bother trying to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. “First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies. Secondly, you really shouldn’t go around and make assumptions.” Her tone was as briny as the Aegean Sea, but she continued with her hands still crossed under her chest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that, when you ‘assume’ something you make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.” She gave a half-hearted shrug, “Mostly you but… that’s not how the saying goes.”
She watched him lean back a little, he looked far content with himself. It was nerve-wracking, annoying, and… entirely too irresistible. Her molars grated against one another as her fingernails dug into her arm giving her an indelicate pinch. That lazy way about him was like lighting a fuse in her. Stiffening her spine, “I can also tell you the 'otherwise' because I stitched up his last owner just a few days ago after that beast tried to rip his arm off.” Ismene was going to completely overlook that had been one of the most interesting things she’d done this month. What this man didn’t know, didn’t hurt him? So what if she’d been trying to be nice and save him from losing an arm. No! In fact, she didn’t care at all. Maybe he would get hurt and then she’d have something interesting to do. Exactly. Yes. That’s the hope she was going to hold onto.
‘Even if that is true…’ She gave him a look for the slow way he was getting to what he was about to say. ‘You are still not entirely useless.’
Her grey eyes widened with unadulterated surprise with a twinge of indignation. She blinked and then a brittle, sardonic laugh escaped, “Wow. Umm... Yes. You are completely right.” The corners of her eyes crinkled and she gave him a thumbs-up as she bobbed her head in agreement causing her wavy blonde ponytail to bounce. “I am still not entirely useless.” I’ll remember that when I am sewing up your sorry ass. Gods this man’s nerve! Her mouth shot off again full of sarcasm. “Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child.” Did this man even have a clue how insulting that sounded to her?
Granted his offer had merit and for half a moment, she wanted to entertain it but…
He cleared his throat and agreed that she’d heard him correctly, ‘Yes, if you can help me then – yes. I will come to some sort of arrangement with you.’ It might not have been as condescending if he hadn’t stressed the word, ‘if’.
Staring at him with a renewed interest, he had far too much gall. Something seemed to register in his mind at the offer though. She didn’t miss the shift made in him. Oooo! He’s got second thoughts now. Her eyes followed his hand running through his hair, ‘Dare I ask what it is you want?’
After a moment of deliberation, she shrugged, “I don’t know yet. I am not even certain you could grant me anything I’d want.” Tilting her head, she bit the inside of her cheek and pointedly looked him up and down again. Slowly, she stepped towards him again until she was standing about a foot in front of him. “Nor do I even know if you are honorable enough to uphold such bargain.” Looking up at him from her thick lashes, “What would keep you from riding off into the sunset on that black beasty before you paid your debt?”
"First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies." Aleks bristled as she launched into her tirade. “So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent...” The low, snarky response slid from between his gritted teeth and he didn’t bother to catch it. He was beginning to lose control so he did what any self-respecting man would do when verbally assaulted by a vehement woman. He tuned her out. Well, mostly.
'..assume something, you make an ass out of you...'
Had she never been told “no” before? Had anyone in her damn life ever told her she was wrong? Because she sure seemed to have it in her mind that she wasn’t. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, but his nonchalant mood was clearly gone, his façade veiled by his anger.
'...Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child...'
His jaw twitched as she prattled on, mocking him. What the hell had happened? How did asking for her assistance spiral into a full-blown attack? He regretfully mourned his decision in doing so. He couldn’t recall the last time, if ever, somebody had sat there blatantly provoking him. He usually didn’t let them. He wasn’t about to start...
In spite of his acrimonious demeanor, Aleks held up his hands in mock surrender, “Whoa, seriously.” He forced a laugh, “Calm down.”
At that time, she was just giving her response to his own inquiry. Up until that point, he’d managed to keep his frustration contained. He was well aware of women like this and they couldn’t be reasoned with. But something about the way she sneered at him, was enough to jolt him out of his accommodating mood. She didn’t think that he was honorable enough? He snorted at her comment.
She had no idea who he was or the trials he’d endured. The putrid stench of blood, war, the lives lost... It never escaped him. He’d spent hours digging graves for hollowed friends, taken by death. He’d trudged through hell while she slept comfortably in her bed at night. How dare she question him? She knew nothing about him. The way she turned her nose up at him only infuriated him even more. Simply, because he’d worked so hard to find meaning in life. Anything! Anything that could explain why the light left a dying warrior’s eyes and the rest of the world remained in complacency.
With a clenched jaw and measured movements, he brought himself to his full height as she approached him. Had she been a man, then this situation would have ended very differently, but she wasn’t. His hazel eyes snapped down at her with an undeniable rage and without thinking, he closed the gap between them in only one stride. Resting his hand on the beam behind her head, he barred her escape with his arm. Their vast height difference allowed him a degree of room to move if need be, but she was definitely having her personal space broken. Though, Aleks didn’t dare lean in further.
“Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.” His low growl rippled through his throat as his ominous, indignant eyes met her defiant gray. He tilted his head while a caustic smile formed. “But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.” Gods, he had to stop or he would do something he would really regret. Now.
Begrudgingly hoisting himself back, he smoothly stepped away from her and turned to leave. “I rescind my offer.” He glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder as if he just hadn’t invaded her personal space with his rage. “Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.”
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"First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies." Aleks bristled as she launched into her tirade. “So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent...” The low, snarky response slid from between his gritted teeth and he didn’t bother to catch it. He was beginning to lose control so he did what any self-respecting man would do when verbally assaulted by a vehement woman. He tuned her out. Well, mostly.
'..assume something, you make an ass out of you...'
Had she never been told “no” before? Had anyone in her damn life ever told her she was wrong? Because she sure seemed to have it in her mind that she wasn’t. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, but his nonchalant mood was clearly gone, his façade veiled by his anger.
'...Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child...'
His jaw twitched as she prattled on, mocking him. What the hell had happened? How did asking for her assistance spiral into a full-blown attack? He regretfully mourned his decision in doing so. He couldn’t recall the last time, if ever, somebody had sat there blatantly provoking him. He usually didn’t let them. He wasn’t about to start...
In spite of his acrimonious demeanor, Aleks held up his hands in mock surrender, “Whoa, seriously.” He forced a laugh, “Calm down.”
At that time, she was just giving her response to his own inquiry. Up until that point, he’d managed to keep his frustration contained. He was well aware of women like this and they couldn’t be reasoned with. But something about the way she sneered at him, was enough to jolt him out of his accommodating mood. She didn’t think that he was honorable enough? He snorted at her comment.
She had no idea who he was or the trials he’d endured. The putrid stench of blood, war, the lives lost... It never escaped him. He’d spent hours digging graves for hollowed friends, taken by death. He’d trudged through hell while she slept comfortably in her bed at night. How dare she question him? She knew nothing about him. The way she turned her nose up at him only infuriated him even more. Simply, because he’d worked so hard to find meaning in life. Anything! Anything that could explain why the light left a dying warrior’s eyes and the rest of the world remained in complacency.
With a clenched jaw and measured movements, he brought himself to his full height as she approached him. Had she been a man, then this situation would have ended very differently, but she wasn’t. His hazel eyes snapped down at her with an undeniable rage and without thinking, he closed the gap between them in only one stride. Resting his hand on the beam behind her head, he barred her escape with his arm. Their vast height difference allowed him a degree of room to move if need be, but she was definitely having her personal space broken. Though, Aleks didn’t dare lean in further.
“Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.” His low growl rippled through his throat as his ominous, indignant eyes met her defiant gray. He tilted his head while a caustic smile formed. “But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.” Gods, he had to stop or he would do something he would really regret. Now.
Begrudgingly hoisting himself back, he smoothly stepped away from her and turned to leave. “I rescind my offer.” He glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder as if he just hadn’t invaded her personal space with his rage. “Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.”
"First let me just say, if you think this is what keen looks like… you have my deepest sympathies." Aleks bristled as she launched into her tirade. “So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent...” The low, snarky response slid from between his gritted teeth and he didn’t bother to catch it. He was beginning to lose control so he did what any self-respecting man would do when verbally assaulted by a vehement woman. He tuned her out. Well, mostly.
'..assume something, you make an ass out of you...'
Had she never been told “no” before? Had anyone in her damn life ever told her she was wrong? Because she sure seemed to have it in her mind that she wasn’t. His arms stayed crossed over his chest, but his nonchalant mood was clearly gone, his façade veiled by his anger.
'...Gods, I am so relieved to know that. My father will be so proud to hear that. He has just been so concerned that, you know, I might be the useless child...'
His jaw twitched as she prattled on, mocking him. What the hell had happened? How did asking for her assistance spiral into a full-blown attack? He regretfully mourned his decision in doing so. He couldn’t recall the last time, if ever, somebody had sat there blatantly provoking him. He usually didn’t let them. He wasn’t about to start...
In spite of his acrimonious demeanor, Aleks held up his hands in mock surrender, “Whoa, seriously.” He forced a laugh, “Calm down.”
At that time, she was just giving her response to his own inquiry. Up until that point, he’d managed to keep his frustration contained. He was well aware of women like this and they couldn’t be reasoned with. But something about the way she sneered at him, was enough to jolt him out of his accommodating mood. She didn’t think that he was honorable enough? He snorted at her comment.
She had no idea who he was or the trials he’d endured. The putrid stench of blood, war, the lives lost... It never escaped him. He’d spent hours digging graves for hollowed friends, taken by death. He’d trudged through hell while she slept comfortably in her bed at night. How dare she question him? She knew nothing about him. The way she turned her nose up at him only infuriated him even more. Simply, because he’d worked so hard to find meaning in life. Anything! Anything that could explain why the light left a dying warrior’s eyes and the rest of the world remained in complacency.
With a clenched jaw and measured movements, he brought himself to his full height as she approached him. Had she been a man, then this situation would have ended very differently, but she wasn’t. His hazel eyes snapped down at her with an undeniable rage and without thinking, he closed the gap between them in only one stride. Resting his hand on the beam behind her head, he barred her escape with his arm. Their vast height difference allowed him a degree of room to move if need be, but she was definitely having her personal space broken. Though, Aleks didn’t dare lean in further.
“Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.” His low growl rippled through his throat as his ominous, indignant eyes met her defiant gray. He tilted his head while a caustic smile formed. “But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.” Gods, he had to stop or he would do something he would really regret. Now.
Begrudgingly hoisting himself back, he smoothly stepped away from her and turned to leave. “I rescind my offer.” He glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder as if he just hadn’t invaded her personal space with his rage. “Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.”
She blinked in confusion at his words. ‘So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent…’ Her like lightening going over what she’d said and still drawing up confused. Where had he gotten that? He was the one who’d said that she’d been pretty keen on the chestnut mare. There was quite a difference between redirecting someone to a better option and being keen on something. But that was neither here nor there, was he throwing it back into her face that she didn’t know anything about horses? She blinked again, that had to be what he was talking about. That’s what she was going to believe he was talking about anyway.
So what if she didn’t know anything about training horses? Just because a fish couldn’t fly didn’t mean it was unintelligent. Was his ego so great that he believed he was a master of all things? If his ego wasn’t that large that only left two other options and both of those options were very unappealing. Either the man was a hypocrite, holding her to one set of standards and himself to another, or the man was out of his mind… in which case… What idiot gave him weapons!
Ismene didn’t see any recognition in his eyes at her prickly words to him and other than the occasional jaw twitch she wasn’t even certain he was paying attention to what she was saying. Suddenly, he was holding his hands up mockingly in surrender, ‘Whoa, seriously.’ He added insult to injury with a forced brittle laugh, ‘ Calm Down.’ It was definite proof that at no point in history had those two singular words been combined every calmed an agitated woman down.
Her nostril’s flared slightly and she found a whole new vigor of acidity to bite him back with. She was so sick and tired of people labeling her the ‘useless twin’... ‘the bad one’. Of course, he couldn’t have known he’d rubbed a bit of salt into her wounds but it was as if he’d had little to no thought about what he’d said. It entered into his brain and came out of his mouth like verbal diarrhea. You simply did not tell someone that they weren’t entirely useless. That implied that you’d considered them to be useless except for that one possibly redeeming quality.
Perhaps there were women out there who’d bite their lip and save face by politely ignoring it but Ismene was not one of them. She wasn’t going to coddle him with sweet words and simpering smiles while batting her lashes. If he wanted to be treated more kindly, perhaps he should consider his own crass treatment of others.
In an instant, he was almost on top of her causing her hand to instinctively dip into the pocket of her chiton and finger the dagger’s handle that was hidden there. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d pulled it on a man and if he took just a half a step more he’d feel the blade pushing him backward. As it was her hand rested on the hilt of the dagger her father had given her. She wasn’t some meek little stray kitten that was going to scurry away simply because he’d invaded her space. Intimidation was what bigger opponents did to smaller, stronger ones. It wasn’t actually declaring a state of war but it was threatening. Ismene did not negotiate with bullies and would not be starting now.
‘Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.’ Frosty grey eyes flicked upwards to him as he spoke. He was out of his mind. She’d not said he wasn’t honorable. She said she didn’t know if he was. Did he trust or distrust everyone the instant he met them? He was a fool if he did. The word ‘bitch’ hung in the air and her fingers flexed against the dagger in her hidden pocket. Did he think he’d inflicted some sort of insulting blow? His opinion of her would have had to mattered to touch her emotions, even the sensitive ones like pride or her ego. Quite frankly, the only emotion he was evoking was boredom with his tediousness. ‘But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.’
Ismene bit back a laugh at him, “Oh well, then we are in agreement over something… we’ve entertained this meeting long enough.” She never moved away even an inch from his looming frame. She wasn’t going to let him start taking from her. Taking her space. Taking her dignity. Just taking. It started out one small piece at a time, and instinctively she knew if she gave this man even an inch he’d take a mile just for fun of it.
After an awkward moment of heavy silence, he lifted himself back up to his full height and turned to leave. She didn’t say anything to stop him, he was the leaving sort it appeared. He was running away… or rather swaggering away. Fighting the need to roll her eyes at the theatrical way he turned his head to look at her to clarify, ‘I rescind my offer. Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.’
Her hand eased out of her pocket and away from the hilt of her dagger. He needn’t have worried about rescinding his offer, he was in absolutely no danger of her accepting it. Giving his back a mocking salute she rolled her eyes again at this entire waste of time for her. Uncle Gregor wasn’t going to be nearly as amused by this tale as she’d been… maybe she’d leave bits and pieces out but that bit about her being a ‘bitch’... Oh, that was definitely going into the story...
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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She blinked in confusion at his words. ‘So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent…’ Her like lightening going over what she’d said and still drawing up confused. Where had he gotten that? He was the one who’d said that she’d been pretty keen on the chestnut mare. There was quite a difference between redirecting someone to a better option and being keen on something. But that was neither here nor there, was he throwing it back into her face that she didn’t know anything about horses? She blinked again, that had to be what he was talking about. That’s what she was going to believe he was talking about anyway.
So what if she didn’t know anything about training horses? Just because a fish couldn’t fly didn’t mean it was unintelligent. Was his ego so great that he believed he was a master of all things? If his ego wasn’t that large that only left two other options and both of those options were very unappealing. Either the man was a hypocrite, holding her to one set of standards and himself to another, or the man was out of his mind… in which case… What idiot gave him weapons!
Ismene didn’t see any recognition in his eyes at her prickly words to him and other than the occasional jaw twitch she wasn’t even certain he was paying attention to what she was saying. Suddenly, he was holding his hands up mockingly in surrender, ‘Whoa, seriously.’ He added insult to injury with a forced brittle laugh, ‘ Calm Down.’ It was definite proof that at no point in history had those two singular words been combined every calmed an agitated woman down.
Her nostril’s flared slightly and she found a whole new vigor of acidity to bite him back with. She was so sick and tired of people labeling her the ‘useless twin’... ‘the bad one’. Of course, he couldn’t have known he’d rubbed a bit of salt into her wounds but it was as if he’d had little to no thought about what he’d said. It entered into his brain and came out of his mouth like verbal diarrhea. You simply did not tell someone that they weren’t entirely useless. That implied that you’d considered them to be useless except for that one possibly redeeming quality.
Perhaps there were women out there who’d bite their lip and save face by politely ignoring it but Ismene was not one of them. She wasn’t going to coddle him with sweet words and simpering smiles while batting her lashes. If he wanted to be treated more kindly, perhaps he should consider his own crass treatment of others.
In an instant, he was almost on top of her causing her hand to instinctively dip into the pocket of her chiton and finger the dagger’s handle that was hidden there. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d pulled it on a man and if he took just a half a step more he’d feel the blade pushing him backward. As it was her hand rested on the hilt of the dagger her father had given her. She wasn’t some meek little stray kitten that was going to scurry away simply because he’d invaded her space. Intimidation was what bigger opponents did to smaller, stronger ones. It wasn’t actually declaring a state of war but it was threatening. Ismene did not negotiate with bullies and would not be starting now.
‘Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.’ Frosty grey eyes flicked upwards to him as he spoke. He was out of his mind. She’d not said he wasn’t honorable. She said she didn’t know if he was. Did he trust or distrust everyone the instant he met them? He was a fool if he did. The word ‘bitch’ hung in the air and her fingers flexed against the dagger in her hidden pocket. Did he think he’d inflicted some sort of insulting blow? His opinion of her would have had to mattered to touch her emotions, even the sensitive ones like pride or her ego. Quite frankly, the only emotion he was evoking was boredom with his tediousness. ‘But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.’
Ismene bit back a laugh at him, “Oh well, then we are in agreement over something… we’ve entertained this meeting long enough.” She never moved away even an inch from his looming frame. She wasn’t going to let him start taking from her. Taking her space. Taking her dignity. Just taking. It started out one small piece at a time, and instinctively she knew if she gave this man even an inch he’d take a mile just for fun of it.
After an awkward moment of heavy silence, he lifted himself back up to his full height and turned to leave. She didn’t say anything to stop him, he was the leaving sort it appeared. He was running away… or rather swaggering away. Fighting the need to roll her eyes at the theatrical way he turned his head to look at her to clarify, ‘I rescind my offer. Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.’
Her hand eased out of her pocket and away from the hilt of her dagger. He needn’t have worried about rescinding his offer, he was in absolutely no danger of her accepting it. Giving his back a mocking salute she rolled her eyes again at this entire waste of time for her. Uncle Gregor wasn’t going to be nearly as amused by this tale as she’d been… maybe she’d leave bits and pieces out but that bit about her being a ‘bitch’... Oh, that was definitely going into the story...
She blinked in confusion at his words. ‘So, really, you’re referring to yourself as unintelligent…’ Her like lightening going over what she’d said and still drawing up confused. Where had he gotten that? He was the one who’d said that she’d been pretty keen on the chestnut mare. There was quite a difference between redirecting someone to a better option and being keen on something. But that was neither here nor there, was he throwing it back into her face that she didn’t know anything about horses? She blinked again, that had to be what he was talking about. That’s what she was going to believe he was talking about anyway.
So what if she didn’t know anything about training horses? Just because a fish couldn’t fly didn’t mean it was unintelligent. Was his ego so great that he believed he was a master of all things? If his ego wasn’t that large that only left two other options and both of those options were very unappealing. Either the man was a hypocrite, holding her to one set of standards and himself to another, or the man was out of his mind… in which case… What idiot gave him weapons!
Ismene didn’t see any recognition in his eyes at her prickly words to him and other than the occasional jaw twitch she wasn’t even certain he was paying attention to what she was saying. Suddenly, he was holding his hands up mockingly in surrender, ‘Whoa, seriously.’ He added insult to injury with a forced brittle laugh, ‘ Calm Down.’ It was definite proof that at no point in history had those two singular words been combined every calmed an agitated woman down.
Her nostril’s flared slightly and she found a whole new vigor of acidity to bite him back with. She was so sick and tired of people labeling her the ‘useless twin’... ‘the bad one’. Of course, he couldn’t have known he’d rubbed a bit of salt into her wounds but it was as if he’d had little to no thought about what he’d said. It entered into his brain and came out of his mouth like verbal diarrhea. You simply did not tell someone that they weren’t entirely useless. That implied that you’d considered them to be useless except for that one possibly redeeming quality.
Perhaps there were women out there who’d bite their lip and save face by politely ignoring it but Ismene was not one of them. She wasn’t going to coddle him with sweet words and simpering smiles while batting her lashes. If he wanted to be treated more kindly, perhaps he should consider his own crass treatment of others.
In an instant, he was almost on top of her causing her hand to instinctively dip into the pocket of her chiton and finger the dagger’s handle that was hidden there. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d pulled it on a man and if he took just a half a step more he’d feel the blade pushing him backward. As it was her hand rested on the hilt of the dagger her father had given her. She wasn’t some meek little stray kitten that was going to scurry away simply because he’d invaded her space. Intimidation was what bigger opponents did to smaller, stronger ones. It wasn’t actually declaring a state of war but it was threatening. Ismene did not negotiate with bullies and would not be starting now.
‘Honorable? You don’t even know that meaning, bitch.’ Frosty grey eyes flicked upwards to him as he spoke. He was out of his mind. She’d not said he wasn’t honorable. She said she didn’t know if he was. Did he trust or distrust everyone the instant he met them? He was a fool if he did. The word ‘bitch’ hung in the air and her fingers flexed against the dagger in her hidden pocket. Did he think he’d inflicted some sort of insulting blow? His opinion of her would have had to mattered to touch her emotions, even the sensitive ones like pride or her ego. Quite frankly, the only emotion he was evoking was boredom with his tediousness. ‘But, maybe you’re correct in your assumptions of me. The only honorable thing about me is that I entertained this long enough.’
Ismene bit back a laugh at him, “Oh well, then we are in agreement over something… we’ve entertained this meeting long enough.” She never moved away even an inch from his looming frame. She wasn’t going to let him start taking from her. Taking her space. Taking her dignity. Just taking. It started out one small piece at a time, and instinctively she knew if she gave this man even an inch he’d take a mile just for fun of it.
After an awkward moment of heavy silence, he lifted himself back up to his full height and turned to leave. She didn’t say anything to stop him, he was the leaving sort it appeared. He was running away… or rather swaggering away. Fighting the need to roll her eyes at the theatrical way he turned his head to look at her to clarify, ‘I rescind my offer. Thank you for the advice on the horse. Good day.’
Her hand eased out of her pocket and away from the hilt of her dagger. He needn’t have worried about rescinding his offer, he was in absolutely no danger of her accepting it. Giving his back a mocking salute she rolled her eyes again at this entire waste of time for her. Uncle Gregor wasn’t going to be nearly as amused by this tale as she’d been… maybe she’d leave bits and pieces out but that bit about her being a ‘bitch’... Oh, that was definitely going into the story...
The tension settled heavily in the air and then silence. His spine was rigid as a board while he tread slowly down the aisle away from the wildly paradoxical source of his frustration. The barely five-foot-tall, stormy-eyed vixen had left him thoroughly perplexed and out of sorts, something that not many people could do. Furthermore, he was beginning to get the distinct feeling that she’d won this round.
As quickly as his temper had come, it dissipated in a blink, leaving his bruised ego in its wake It wasn’t until he was away from her that he realized she hadn’t even budged, simply maintaining her stance. As loathe as he was to admit it, a small part of him honored that about her. She had a kindred spirit, recognizable, to his own. He didn’t dare look back, though. He could feel the icy glare she held. Her indifference did not go unnoticed by Aleks and was scrupulously displayed. The mantle of boredom that quickly glazed across her sharp, gray eyes was enough of an indicator to him that she’d experienced a man’s temper before, though to what degree he could not be sure. For that, and that alone, he felt a sharp sting of remorse.
He knew that he would never cross that line with a woman, but she didn’t know that. Still, he could hear his grandmother’s voice sharp with admonishment. Crossing her simple boundaries of etiquette was enough and didn’t necessarily make him that much better than a man who would have done something far worse. Even moreso, Aleksandr was struggling to figure out what exactly it was that set him off, though he didn’t dig too far into his heart, electing to just try to forget about it all together. If only his guilty conscience would let him...
Without a thought the apology came spilling out of him, desperate to break free. “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse and the phrase was obviously foreign on his tongue, though that didn’t take away from the sincerity of his words. He didn’t expect her to accept it, instead bracing himself internally for her acidic reply. Though, he knew that he couldn’t blame her. Not truly. Aleks’ simply obtuse approach to life was just that. Living from one moment to the next. In all things, good and bad, he responded with that same gruffness, a two-edged sword he could never seem to escape.
He’d dug so deep into his thoughts that when he came back, he realized that he wasn’t even aware if she was still there. He, shamefully enough, hadn’t heard if she’d made her exit or not. For all he knew, his sole moment of vulnerability in life was only being witnessed by the Gods and he didn’t dare risk the embarrassment of checking for her either.
With a click of his tongue he calmly approached the chestnut mare from before. Her sweet demeanor was a treat to his otherwise restless spirit. It was not uncommon for him to be so high-strung. But ever since he’d returned back to Athenia, he’d been on edge. Everything was different. The people he once knew had changed or moved on. For some reason, being in war left a soldier under the impression that life seemingly stopped back home. As he was off putting himself in harm’s way, every waking moment, it never occurred to him that the world he knew would change without him in it. Friends would pass, lovers move on, provinces collapse... He’d been in for a rude awakening upon his arrival back. Lifting his hand to pat her side, he peered over her shoulder, diligently scanning for a brush.
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The tension settled heavily in the air and then silence. His spine was rigid as a board while he tread slowly down the aisle away from the wildly paradoxical source of his frustration. The barely five-foot-tall, stormy-eyed vixen had left him thoroughly perplexed and out of sorts, something that not many people could do. Furthermore, he was beginning to get the distinct feeling that she’d won this round.
As quickly as his temper had come, it dissipated in a blink, leaving his bruised ego in its wake It wasn’t until he was away from her that he realized she hadn’t even budged, simply maintaining her stance. As loathe as he was to admit it, a small part of him honored that about her. She had a kindred spirit, recognizable, to his own. He didn’t dare look back, though. He could feel the icy glare she held. Her indifference did not go unnoticed by Aleks and was scrupulously displayed. The mantle of boredom that quickly glazed across her sharp, gray eyes was enough of an indicator to him that she’d experienced a man’s temper before, though to what degree he could not be sure. For that, and that alone, he felt a sharp sting of remorse.
He knew that he would never cross that line with a woman, but she didn’t know that. Still, he could hear his grandmother’s voice sharp with admonishment. Crossing her simple boundaries of etiquette was enough and didn’t necessarily make him that much better than a man who would have done something far worse. Even moreso, Aleksandr was struggling to figure out what exactly it was that set him off, though he didn’t dig too far into his heart, electing to just try to forget about it all together. If only his guilty conscience would let him...
Without a thought the apology came spilling out of him, desperate to break free. “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse and the phrase was obviously foreign on his tongue, though that didn’t take away from the sincerity of his words. He didn’t expect her to accept it, instead bracing himself internally for her acidic reply. Though, he knew that he couldn’t blame her. Not truly. Aleks’ simply obtuse approach to life was just that. Living from one moment to the next. In all things, good and bad, he responded with that same gruffness, a two-edged sword he could never seem to escape.
He’d dug so deep into his thoughts that when he came back, he realized that he wasn’t even aware if she was still there. He, shamefully enough, hadn’t heard if she’d made her exit or not. For all he knew, his sole moment of vulnerability in life was only being witnessed by the Gods and he didn’t dare risk the embarrassment of checking for her either.
With a click of his tongue he calmly approached the chestnut mare from before. Her sweet demeanor was a treat to his otherwise restless spirit. It was not uncommon for him to be so high-strung. But ever since he’d returned back to Athenia, he’d been on edge. Everything was different. The people he once knew had changed or moved on. For some reason, being in war left a soldier under the impression that life seemingly stopped back home. As he was off putting himself in harm’s way, every waking moment, it never occurred to him that the world he knew would change without him in it. Friends would pass, lovers move on, provinces collapse... He’d been in for a rude awakening upon his arrival back. Lifting his hand to pat her side, he peered over her shoulder, diligently scanning for a brush.
The tension settled heavily in the air and then silence. His spine was rigid as a board while he tread slowly down the aisle away from the wildly paradoxical source of his frustration. The barely five-foot-tall, stormy-eyed vixen had left him thoroughly perplexed and out of sorts, something that not many people could do. Furthermore, he was beginning to get the distinct feeling that she’d won this round.
As quickly as his temper had come, it dissipated in a blink, leaving his bruised ego in its wake It wasn’t until he was away from her that he realized she hadn’t even budged, simply maintaining her stance. As loathe as he was to admit it, a small part of him honored that about her. She had a kindred spirit, recognizable, to his own. He didn’t dare look back, though. He could feel the icy glare she held. Her indifference did not go unnoticed by Aleks and was scrupulously displayed. The mantle of boredom that quickly glazed across her sharp, gray eyes was enough of an indicator to him that she’d experienced a man’s temper before, though to what degree he could not be sure. For that, and that alone, he felt a sharp sting of remorse.
He knew that he would never cross that line with a woman, but she didn’t know that. Still, he could hear his grandmother’s voice sharp with admonishment. Crossing her simple boundaries of etiquette was enough and didn’t necessarily make him that much better than a man who would have done something far worse. Even moreso, Aleksandr was struggling to figure out what exactly it was that set him off, though he didn’t dig too far into his heart, electing to just try to forget about it all together. If only his guilty conscience would let him...
Without a thought the apology came spilling out of him, desperate to break free. “I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse and the phrase was obviously foreign on his tongue, though that didn’t take away from the sincerity of his words. He didn’t expect her to accept it, instead bracing himself internally for her acidic reply. Though, he knew that he couldn’t blame her. Not truly. Aleks’ simply obtuse approach to life was just that. Living from one moment to the next. In all things, good and bad, he responded with that same gruffness, a two-edged sword he could never seem to escape.
He’d dug so deep into his thoughts that when he came back, he realized that he wasn’t even aware if she was still there. He, shamefully enough, hadn’t heard if she’d made her exit or not. For all he knew, his sole moment of vulnerability in life was only being witnessed by the Gods and he didn’t dare risk the embarrassment of checking for her either.
With a click of his tongue he calmly approached the chestnut mare from before. Her sweet demeanor was a treat to his otherwise restless spirit. It was not uncommon for him to be so high-strung. But ever since he’d returned back to Athenia, he’d been on edge. Everything was different. The people he once knew had changed or moved on. For some reason, being in war left a soldier under the impression that life seemingly stopped back home. As he was off putting himself in harm’s way, every waking moment, it never occurred to him that the world he knew would change without him in it. Friends would pass, lovers move on, provinces collapse... He’d been in for a rude awakening upon his arrival back. Lifting his hand to pat her side, he peered over her shoulder, diligently scanning for a brush.
The distance created between them gave room for the tension to ease off of her shoulders. Balling her fists up, she clutched the strap of her satchel with both hands trying to hold onto the parts of her that wanted lean back against the stall wall and let her body slide down the scratched and damaged wood that was several years past being in need of repair. Arcana was just a sleepy little village by the sea, you learned to use everything as long as you could. Stable walls or anger.
She exhaled, she might not have cared what he thought about her but she was not born with this chip on her shoulder. It was something she’d developed over the years. A defense against the environment she’d grown up in but it was tiring if she was honest. Her weary gaze shifted to the movement at the other end of the cramped stable to where her antagonist was pausing in front of the chestnut mare.
‘I’m sorry.’ That gravelly, engrossing voice conjured images in her mind of driftwood bonfires on the beach, kisses under a full moon, and toes scrunching into the warm summer sand of the beach. Her exhale hung in her throat. She didn’t apologize but if she did, she might have offered him one right then.
Rather than saying the words, she slowly walked over to where he stood softly clicking his tongue at the mare. She reached out, laying her hand on his forearm with a softness that was a complete contrast to the steely reserve she’d shown moments early. She didn’t know why she was being compelled to comfort him in that moment but she was. It was very disconcerting.
“I don’t hold onto resentment too long.” Ismene’s voice was quietly serene. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet.” The hand that had been reassuringly settled on his forearm reached out as the chestnut mare ventured over towards them to touch the nose of the mare. “I’m Ismene, by the way.” As the mare briefly touched her fingers checking for apples, her fingers curled to softly boop the mare’s snoot.
Her curious grey eyes slanted sideways up to his face, “People spend too much of their lives holding onto indignities that wouldn’t matter in five or ten years.” She pulled her gaze away and looked back to the mare, a small sigh escaped, “It’s a waste.” Something in her tone belied her feelings about waste. She abhorred wastefulness whether it was talent, potential, food, moments… perhaps it was moments that hurt seeing them being thrown away so easily. Things could be ripped away so easily, it was sad that it took being robbed of them for most people to realize the preciousness of them.
Ducking her head, she moved to step away and leave him in peace. Pausing in the doorway of the stable, the sunlight hitting her head and casting a halo over her hair. She didn’t know why she wasn’t ready to leave yet, but she suddenly wasn’t quite ready to leave. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced back at him and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in thought. Was she wasting an opportunity?
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?” Her fingers were clutching the satchel strap again close to her. He definitely maybe was insane. He had a terrible chip on his shoulder. Had a terrible mouth on him. But the way, emotion had dipped a little as he’d apologized and maybe it was that haunted look he’d had earlier when he’d first approached her. She swallowed, he looked like he needed a friend and something about him reminded her of herself.
By the Gods, she hoped she didn’t regret this… but she’d always be attracted to the things that would hurt her.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The distance created between them gave room for the tension to ease off of her shoulders. Balling her fists up, she clutched the strap of her satchel with both hands trying to hold onto the parts of her that wanted lean back against the stall wall and let her body slide down the scratched and damaged wood that was several years past being in need of repair. Arcana was just a sleepy little village by the sea, you learned to use everything as long as you could. Stable walls or anger.
She exhaled, she might not have cared what he thought about her but she was not born with this chip on her shoulder. It was something she’d developed over the years. A defense against the environment she’d grown up in but it was tiring if she was honest. Her weary gaze shifted to the movement at the other end of the cramped stable to where her antagonist was pausing in front of the chestnut mare.
‘I’m sorry.’ That gravelly, engrossing voice conjured images in her mind of driftwood bonfires on the beach, kisses under a full moon, and toes scrunching into the warm summer sand of the beach. Her exhale hung in her throat. She didn’t apologize but if she did, she might have offered him one right then.
Rather than saying the words, she slowly walked over to where he stood softly clicking his tongue at the mare. She reached out, laying her hand on his forearm with a softness that was a complete contrast to the steely reserve she’d shown moments early. She didn’t know why she was being compelled to comfort him in that moment but she was. It was very disconcerting.
“I don’t hold onto resentment too long.” Ismene’s voice was quietly serene. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet.” The hand that had been reassuringly settled on his forearm reached out as the chestnut mare ventured over towards them to touch the nose of the mare. “I’m Ismene, by the way.” As the mare briefly touched her fingers checking for apples, her fingers curled to softly boop the mare’s snoot.
Her curious grey eyes slanted sideways up to his face, “People spend too much of their lives holding onto indignities that wouldn’t matter in five or ten years.” She pulled her gaze away and looked back to the mare, a small sigh escaped, “It’s a waste.” Something in her tone belied her feelings about waste. She abhorred wastefulness whether it was talent, potential, food, moments… perhaps it was moments that hurt seeing them being thrown away so easily. Things could be ripped away so easily, it was sad that it took being robbed of them for most people to realize the preciousness of them.
Ducking her head, she moved to step away and leave him in peace. Pausing in the doorway of the stable, the sunlight hitting her head and casting a halo over her hair. She didn’t know why she wasn’t ready to leave yet, but she suddenly wasn’t quite ready to leave. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced back at him and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in thought. Was she wasting an opportunity?
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?” Her fingers were clutching the satchel strap again close to her. He definitely maybe was insane. He had a terrible chip on his shoulder. Had a terrible mouth on him. But the way, emotion had dipped a little as he’d apologized and maybe it was that haunted look he’d had earlier when he’d first approached her. She swallowed, he looked like he needed a friend and something about him reminded her of herself.
By the Gods, she hoped she didn’t regret this… but she’d always be attracted to the things that would hurt her.
The distance created between them gave room for the tension to ease off of her shoulders. Balling her fists up, she clutched the strap of her satchel with both hands trying to hold onto the parts of her that wanted lean back against the stall wall and let her body slide down the scratched and damaged wood that was several years past being in need of repair. Arcana was just a sleepy little village by the sea, you learned to use everything as long as you could. Stable walls or anger.
She exhaled, she might not have cared what he thought about her but she was not born with this chip on her shoulder. It was something she’d developed over the years. A defense against the environment she’d grown up in but it was tiring if she was honest. Her weary gaze shifted to the movement at the other end of the cramped stable to where her antagonist was pausing in front of the chestnut mare.
‘I’m sorry.’ That gravelly, engrossing voice conjured images in her mind of driftwood bonfires on the beach, kisses under a full moon, and toes scrunching into the warm summer sand of the beach. Her exhale hung in her throat. She didn’t apologize but if she did, she might have offered him one right then.
Rather than saying the words, she slowly walked over to where he stood softly clicking his tongue at the mare. She reached out, laying her hand on his forearm with a softness that was a complete contrast to the steely reserve she’d shown moments early. She didn’t know why she was being compelled to comfort him in that moment but she was. It was very disconcerting.
“I don’t hold onto resentment too long.” Ismene’s voice was quietly serene. “I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet.” The hand that had been reassuringly settled on his forearm reached out as the chestnut mare ventured over towards them to touch the nose of the mare. “I’m Ismene, by the way.” As the mare briefly touched her fingers checking for apples, her fingers curled to softly boop the mare’s snoot.
Her curious grey eyes slanted sideways up to his face, “People spend too much of their lives holding onto indignities that wouldn’t matter in five or ten years.” She pulled her gaze away and looked back to the mare, a small sigh escaped, “It’s a waste.” Something in her tone belied her feelings about waste. She abhorred wastefulness whether it was talent, potential, food, moments… perhaps it was moments that hurt seeing them being thrown away so easily. Things could be ripped away so easily, it was sad that it took being robbed of them for most people to realize the preciousness of them.
Ducking her head, she moved to step away and leave him in peace. Pausing in the doorway of the stable, the sunlight hitting her head and casting a halo over her hair. She didn’t know why she wasn’t ready to leave yet, but she suddenly wasn’t quite ready to leave. Looking over her shoulder, she glanced back at him and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in thought. Was she wasting an opportunity?
“I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?” Her fingers were clutching the satchel strap again close to her. He definitely maybe was insane. He had a terrible chip on his shoulder. Had a terrible mouth on him. But the way, emotion had dipped a little as he’d apologized and maybe it was that haunted look he’d had earlier when he’d first approached her. She swallowed, he looked like he needed a friend and something about him reminded her of herself.
By the Gods, she hoped she didn’t regret this… but she’d always be attracted to the things that would hurt her.
Her warm touch was accompanied by her distinctly soft voice and the muscle in his arm instinctively tensed under it. “I don’t hold onto resentment too long. I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet." He wasn’t for sure if it was her physical contact or her unexpected kindness that unnerved him, but he didn’t distance himself from her either way.
How was it possible that in one instance she’d summoned in him such unflattering indignation, but then the next – a sense of healing and home? He could feel the radiant warmth of her near him and it was oddly inviting. Had he been a little boy, he would have leaned into the curve of her body just to rest in the peacefulness of it all. Funny how that innocent longing still followed you into adulthood – To just love and be loved, in the purest sense.
He noticed it when she pulled her hand away to attend to the inquisitive mare, but he kept his body still, nigh fearful that he might break this trance she was in. “I’m Ismene, by the way.”Ismene. Her name rolled effortlessly to the back of his mind, where it would remain in storage. He kept his silence, allowing her the metaphorical floor to speak. Listening to the flowing cadence of her voice, his eyes flickered down as she chattered on beside him about the lives of others and waste. Well, he certainly hadn’t given her the credit that she deserved.
His ears were perceptive of her as she voiced aloud her rationalization. Leaning in to grab the comb, he slightly inclined his head towards her – a nonverbal cue that he was still hearing her even though she was facing his back. While he stepped in towards the horse, Aleks caught her shift in movement as she came to a close with her thoughts. Oddly, for the first time since she’d opened her mouth, he felt regret at her quietness.
His intense, umber eyes slid discreetly to the side and he observed silently as she made her retreat. For some reason, she’d left an empty space next to him and he was acutely cognizant of it. Nearly breaking his neck to look over his shoulder, his hawk-like gaze followed her dignified back as she sauntered towards the doorway, her hips dipping sweetly with each step. Then, as if she’d been over-taken by a sudden fanciful whimsy, she paused dramatically in the doorway to peek back at him over her shoulder.
Loose strands of her honeyed hair tossed with her sudden turn and her large, grey eyes implored his from beneath thick lashes. Characteristically, Aleks’ gaze dropped to her mouth as she bit the fullness of her bottom blushed lip, clearly pondering something. Fuck. Was she doing that on purpose? He couldn't tell if she knew the strength of the influence she had or if she was blind with innocence. Frankly, he didn't really care either way. Like the degenerate he was, he freely let his mind spiral down that hole and like a rabid dog with its prey, he was at war to tear his gaze away from her sultry pout whenever she finally spoke.
"I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?"
Fresh start? He blinked, allowing her words to tug him back into reality. Had she just offered to start over with him? In all honesty, the brain in him warned against just jumping in to trust her. But, the non-brain of him was already at her feet like some sort of wild animal. In the end, Aleks had a vice of throwing himself into things he couldn't handle. Fights... Alcohol... Women... In most, if not all cases, he always came out on top one way or another. Far be it from him to make a change now.
Without missing another beat, he leaned in, his arms resting on the stall door. An easy, handsome grin stole across his stoic face, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. He nodded towards her as if nothing had ever happened between them. “I think that I would like that, Ismene. ” Soon, he would have to pull himself away from her to return back to the task at hand. Unfortunately, the military didn't wait for anyone. But, for now, he was enjoying the moment. It provided a escape, albeit temporary, away from his otherwise bleak life.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Her warm touch was accompanied by her distinctly soft voice and the muscle in his arm instinctively tensed under it. “I don’t hold onto resentment too long. I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet." He wasn’t for sure if it was her physical contact or her unexpected kindness that unnerved him, but he didn’t distance himself from her either way.
How was it possible that in one instance she’d summoned in him such unflattering indignation, but then the next – a sense of healing and home? He could feel the radiant warmth of her near him and it was oddly inviting. Had he been a little boy, he would have leaned into the curve of her body just to rest in the peacefulness of it all. Funny how that innocent longing still followed you into adulthood – To just love and be loved, in the purest sense.
He noticed it when she pulled her hand away to attend to the inquisitive mare, but he kept his body still, nigh fearful that he might break this trance she was in. “I’m Ismene, by the way.”Ismene. Her name rolled effortlessly to the back of his mind, where it would remain in storage. He kept his silence, allowing her the metaphorical floor to speak. Listening to the flowing cadence of her voice, his eyes flickered down as she chattered on beside him about the lives of others and waste. Well, he certainly hadn’t given her the credit that she deserved.
His ears were perceptive of her as she voiced aloud her rationalization. Leaning in to grab the comb, he slightly inclined his head towards her – a nonverbal cue that he was still hearing her even though she was facing his back. While he stepped in towards the horse, Aleks caught her shift in movement as she came to a close with her thoughts. Oddly, for the first time since she’d opened her mouth, he felt regret at her quietness.
His intense, umber eyes slid discreetly to the side and he observed silently as she made her retreat. For some reason, she’d left an empty space next to him and he was acutely cognizant of it. Nearly breaking his neck to look over his shoulder, his hawk-like gaze followed her dignified back as she sauntered towards the doorway, her hips dipping sweetly with each step. Then, as if she’d been over-taken by a sudden fanciful whimsy, she paused dramatically in the doorway to peek back at him over her shoulder.
Loose strands of her honeyed hair tossed with her sudden turn and her large, grey eyes implored his from beneath thick lashes. Characteristically, Aleks’ gaze dropped to her mouth as she bit the fullness of her bottom blushed lip, clearly pondering something. Fuck. Was she doing that on purpose? He couldn't tell if she knew the strength of the influence she had or if she was blind with innocence. Frankly, he didn't really care either way. Like the degenerate he was, he freely let his mind spiral down that hole and like a rabid dog with its prey, he was at war to tear his gaze away from her sultry pout whenever she finally spoke.
"I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?"
Fresh start? He blinked, allowing her words to tug him back into reality. Had she just offered to start over with him? In all honesty, the brain in him warned against just jumping in to trust her. But, the non-brain of him was already at her feet like some sort of wild animal. In the end, Aleks had a vice of throwing himself into things he couldn't handle. Fights... Alcohol... Women... In most, if not all cases, he always came out on top one way or another. Far be it from him to make a change now.
Without missing another beat, he leaned in, his arms resting on the stall door. An easy, handsome grin stole across his stoic face, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. He nodded towards her as if nothing had ever happened between them. “I think that I would like that, Ismene. ” Soon, he would have to pull himself away from her to return back to the task at hand. Unfortunately, the military didn't wait for anyone. But, for now, he was enjoying the moment. It provided a escape, albeit temporary, away from his otherwise bleak life.
Her warm touch was accompanied by her distinctly soft voice and the muscle in his arm instinctively tensed under it. “I don’t hold onto resentment too long. I think we might have gotten off on the wrong feet." He wasn’t for sure if it was her physical contact or her unexpected kindness that unnerved him, but he didn’t distance himself from her either way.
How was it possible that in one instance she’d summoned in him such unflattering indignation, but then the next – a sense of healing and home? He could feel the radiant warmth of her near him and it was oddly inviting. Had he been a little boy, he would have leaned into the curve of her body just to rest in the peacefulness of it all. Funny how that innocent longing still followed you into adulthood – To just love and be loved, in the purest sense.
He noticed it when she pulled her hand away to attend to the inquisitive mare, but he kept his body still, nigh fearful that he might break this trance she was in. “I’m Ismene, by the way.”Ismene. Her name rolled effortlessly to the back of his mind, where it would remain in storage. He kept his silence, allowing her the metaphorical floor to speak. Listening to the flowing cadence of her voice, his eyes flickered down as she chattered on beside him about the lives of others and waste. Well, he certainly hadn’t given her the credit that she deserved.
His ears were perceptive of her as she voiced aloud her rationalization. Leaning in to grab the comb, he slightly inclined his head towards her – a nonverbal cue that he was still hearing her even though she was facing his back. While he stepped in towards the horse, Aleks caught her shift in movement as she came to a close with her thoughts. Oddly, for the first time since she’d opened her mouth, he felt regret at her quietness.
His intense, umber eyes slid discreetly to the side and he observed silently as she made her retreat. For some reason, she’d left an empty space next to him and he was acutely cognizant of it. Nearly breaking his neck to look over his shoulder, his hawk-like gaze followed her dignified back as she sauntered towards the doorway, her hips dipping sweetly with each step. Then, as if she’d been over-taken by a sudden fanciful whimsy, she paused dramatically in the doorway to peek back at him over her shoulder.
Loose strands of her honeyed hair tossed with her sudden turn and her large, grey eyes implored his from beneath thick lashes. Characteristically, Aleks’ gaze dropped to her mouth as she bit the fullness of her bottom blushed lip, clearly pondering something. Fuck. Was she doing that on purpose? He couldn't tell if she knew the strength of the influence she had or if she was blind with innocence. Frankly, he didn't really care either way. Like the degenerate he was, he freely let his mind spiral down that hole and like a rabid dog with its prey, he was at war to tear his gaze away from her sultry pout whenever she finally spoke.
"I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a fresh start?"
Fresh start? He blinked, allowing her words to tug him back into reality. Had she just offered to start over with him? In all honesty, the brain in him warned against just jumping in to trust her. But, the non-brain of him was already at her feet like some sort of wild animal. In the end, Aleks had a vice of throwing himself into things he couldn't handle. Fights... Alcohol... Women... In most, if not all cases, he always came out on top one way or another. Far be it from him to make a change now.
Without missing another beat, he leaned in, his arms resting on the stall door. An easy, handsome grin stole across his stoic face, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes. He nodded towards her as if nothing had ever happened between them. “I think that I would like that, Ismene. ” Soon, he would have to pull himself away from her to return back to the task at hand. Unfortunately, the military didn't wait for anyone. But, for now, he was enjoying the moment. It provided a escape, albeit temporary, away from his otherwise bleak life.
If the power of a glance was enough for some people to fall in love, the power of a long, drawn-out look was enough to send a girl up into flames. He seemed dazed that she could so easily toss aside their clash of wills and offer him a second chance, offer them a second chance. She took a hesitant step back deeper into the mouth of the stable aisle so that she could see him a bit better without the sunlight teasing her eyes.
He propped his powerful frame lazily up by his arms on the stall door. A slow, smile tugged on his lips and mixed with that spark of savage in his dark eyes it transformed him into the sort of man who made chitons drop. The almost-smile on her lips slipped off and she swallowed. What was his answer? He nodded towards her, ‘I think that I would like that, Ismene.’ His smokey tone rolling out from the back of his throat.
How could he feel so familiar and yet leave her craving to know more? Would his mouth bruise hers in a kiss? Would his touch be rough and dig into her soft curves driving her to the brink of sanity? Was it possible that his calloused hands would softly stir a response from her? Coax her higher and higher? Would she drown in his kisses? Imene swallowed, her grey eyes warming in response to his words. Without thinking about her actions she stepped back over to stand in front of the stall door.
He could drive her insane with his logic but did she affect him the way he affected her? She didn’t know but she was about to find out. If she was going to leave this stable, she was going to leave it with a few answers to her questions. Not stopping until she was standing right in front of him and the stall door, she didn’t even pause as reached up wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up against the door between them as she pressed her lips against his. Her fingers curled digging softly into the back of his neck.
Her bones turned to fire and she melted against him, her mouth opening to taste him. It was unexpected and unplanned and perhaps hands down the best kiss she’d ever experienced. Ismene’s mind had drawn blank and she just clung to the moment and him. She’d have pressed herself closer but the stable door prevented full body contact. A throaty moan slipped from her throat and her fingers tightened digging her nails a little deeper into his neck.
She felt herself slipping back to the ground after standing on her tiptoes. Her teeth caught his bottom lip biting him gently as she pulled away and looked up at him with a bit of confusion on her face. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected at all. Somehow it had been more. Her hands had slid from the back of his neck to rest on his chest. Why did she want to do that again? Didn’t she have her answers?
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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If the power of a glance was enough for some people to fall in love, the power of a long, drawn-out look was enough to send a girl up into flames. He seemed dazed that she could so easily toss aside their clash of wills and offer him a second chance, offer them a second chance. She took a hesitant step back deeper into the mouth of the stable aisle so that she could see him a bit better without the sunlight teasing her eyes.
He propped his powerful frame lazily up by his arms on the stall door. A slow, smile tugged on his lips and mixed with that spark of savage in his dark eyes it transformed him into the sort of man who made chitons drop. The almost-smile on her lips slipped off and she swallowed. What was his answer? He nodded towards her, ‘I think that I would like that, Ismene.’ His smokey tone rolling out from the back of his throat.
How could he feel so familiar and yet leave her craving to know more? Would his mouth bruise hers in a kiss? Would his touch be rough and dig into her soft curves driving her to the brink of sanity? Was it possible that his calloused hands would softly stir a response from her? Coax her higher and higher? Would she drown in his kisses? Imene swallowed, her grey eyes warming in response to his words. Without thinking about her actions she stepped back over to stand in front of the stall door.
He could drive her insane with his logic but did she affect him the way he affected her? She didn’t know but she was about to find out. If she was going to leave this stable, she was going to leave it with a few answers to her questions. Not stopping until she was standing right in front of him and the stall door, she didn’t even pause as reached up wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up against the door between them as she pressed her lips against his. Her fingers curled digging softly into the back of his neck.
Her bones turned to fire and she melted against him, her mouth opening to taste him. It was unexpected and unplanned and perhaps hands down the best kiss she’d ever experienced. Ismene’s mind had drawn blank and she just clung to the moment and him. She’d have pressed herself closer but the stable door prevented full body contact. A throaty moan slipped from her throat and her fingers tightened digging her nails a little deeper into his neck.
She felt herself slipping back to the ground after standing on her tiptoes. Her teeth caught his bottom lip biting him gently as she pulled away and looked up at him with a bit of confusion on her face. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected at all. Somehow it had been more. Her hands had slid from the back of his neck to rest on his chest. Why did she want to do that again? Didn’t she have her answers?
If the power of a glance was enough for some people to fall in love, the power of a long, drawn-out look was enough to send a girl up into flames. He seemed dazed that she could so easily toss aside their clash of wills and offer him a second chance, offer them a second chance. She took a hesitant step back deeper into the mouth of the stable aisle so that she could see him a bit better without the sunlight teasing her eyes.
He propped his powerful frame lazily up by his arms on the stall door. A slow, smile tugged on his lips and mixed with that spark of savage in his dark eyes it transformed him into the sort of man who made chitons drop. The almost-smile on her lips slipped off and she swallowed. What was his answer? He nodded towards her, ‘I think that I would like that, Ismene.’ His smokey tone rolling out from the back of his throat.
How could he feel so familiar and yet leave her craving to know more? Would his mouth bruise hers in a kiss? Would his touch be rough and dig into her soft curves driving her to the brink of sanity? Was it possible that his calloused hands would softly stir a response from her? Coax her higher and higher? Would she drown in his kisses? Imene swallowed, her grey eyes warming in response to his words. Without thinking about her actions she stepped back over to stand in front of the stall door.
He could drive her insane with his logic but did she affect him the way he affected her? She didn’t know but she was about to find out. If she was going to leave this stable, she was going to leave it with a few answers to her questions. Not stopping until she was standing right in front of him and the stall door, she didn’t even pause as reached up wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up against the door between them as she pressed her lips against his. Her fingers curled digging softly into the back of his neck.
Her bones turned to fire and she melted against him, her mouth opening to taste him. It was unexpected and unplanned and perhaps hands down the best kiss she’d ever experienced. Ismene’s mind had drawn blank and she just clung to the moment and him. She’d have pressed herself closer but the stable door prevented full body contact. A throaty moan slipped from her throat and her fingers tightened digging her nails a little deeper into his neck.
She felt herself slipping back to the ground after standing on her tiptoes. Her teeth caught his bottom lip biting him gently as she pulled away and looked up at him with a bit of confusion on her face. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected at all. Somehow it had been more. Her hands had slid from the back of his neck to rest on his chest. Why did she want to do that again? Didn’t she have her answers?
Ismene’s expressive features seemed to reveal her inner thoughtful state, though Aleksandr hadn’t the faintest clue about what preoccupied her mind. Was she having doubts about her prior statements? He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d frightened her off. Not that it would have been the first time. He’d almost resigned himself, apathetically, to that fate when she stepped back away from the entrance and into the aisle, ergo – closer to him. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that her decision secretly pleased him.
Having fixed his dark gaze along the curvature of her body, Aleksandr raised a brow in question when she suddenly slinked her way over to him. Upon her approach he could make out the freckles dappled across her small nose. Her lips appeared soft, inviting... Her gray eyes, accentuated by thick lashes, burned with passion and an inkling of something else. From the alluring sway of her hips down to the flutter of her pretty eyes, everything in her body language screamed what she was about to do next. Maybe it was because of her prior chilly disposition or simply just because he couldn’t perceive that she actually might do something so boldly vivacious, but nothing in all of Athenia could have prepared him for what happened next.
Fire jolted through him, the flames licking through down to his very core as this girl – nay, this siren – flaunted her way right up to him and pulled her lips up to his, like it was just another daily occurrence between them. For only a slight second, he froze, that cocky grin plastered across his mug. What was she up to? But, in that moment, as her enticing lips met his, he was smug to know that they were, in fact, soft. Then, an audible groan of realization at that escaped from him and he tugged her closer into him, ditching his annoyingly suppressive restraint. To hell with it!
Like an amused teacher, patient and observant, he allowed her to initiate as she did. But she soon probed his feral interest and in response, his fervent mouth parted her lips as he sweetly coaxed her open to him. She was warm and sweet to the taste... Faintly like oranges, though, he wasn’t quite sure how that could be possible.
Her exquisite frame pressed against him, searing through the linen fabric of his chintoniskos. Gods... His rugged hands dropped down to the accentuated dip of her waist before gliding possessively into the curve of her lower back. Like a militant on a mission, he was dead set on exploring her further and if that blasted door hadn’t been between them then he would have pulled her in closer, riding her provocatively against him while he meticulously made his acquaintance with every inch of her.
Triggering that innate primal sense in him, his heart rapidly thudded in his chest and a thrill shot through him when her fingernails dug greedily into the back of his neck and a moan of pleasure escaped her. The door had to go!
He tore his firm hands away and was stealthily ripping at the stall door, prepared to tear it off the hinges if need be, when she began to slip away. What?! No, no, no, no, no.... Abandoning the door, Aleks’ grip returned to the small of her back in a desperate attempt to hold onto her. To his dismay, his efforts were to no avail. As Ismene pulled herself away, taunting him with her nip, her small hand settled onto his chest and she angled her face to stare up at him.
His dark brows furrowed over his turbulent eyes and he peered down at her. But-but, why?!
He allowed her face to adjust into his focus and a gust of air escaped through clenched teeth when he exhaled in frustration. What was she thinking? Her distant gaze seemed... Confused? Contemplative? Had he done something wrong? A terribly ego-shattering dread sank in, as that insulting thought stood forefront in his mind, mocking him. No! He couldn’t have done something wrong! ...Could he?
Through a squinted gaze he examined her back before cocking his head with a half-smirk. “Satisfied?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Ismene’s expressive features seemed to reveal her inner thoughtful state, though Aleksandr hadn’t the faintest clue about what preoccupied her mind. Was she having doubts about her prior statements? He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d frightened her off. Not that it would have been the first time. He’d almost resigned himself, apathetically, to that fate when she stepped back away from the entrance and into the aisle, ergo – closer to him. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that her decision secretly pleased him.
Having fixed his dark gaze along the curvature of her body, Aleksandr raised a brow in question when she suddenly slinked her way over to him. Upon her approach he could make out the freckles dappled across her small nose. Her lips appeared soft, inviting... Her gray eyes, accentuated by thick lashes, burned with passion and an inkling of something else. From the alluring sway of her hips down to the flutter of her pretty eyes, everything in her body language screamed what she was about to do next. Maybe it was because of her prior chilly disposition or simply just because he couldn’t perceive that she actually might do something so boldly vivacious, but nothing in all of Athenia could have prepared him for what happened next.
Fire jolted through him, the flames licking through down to his very core as this girl – nay, this siren – flaunted her way right up to him and pulled her lips up to his, like it was just another daily occurrence between them. For only a slight second, he froze, that cocky grin plastered across his mug. What was she up to? But, in that moment, as her enticing lips met his, he was smug to know that they were, in fact, soft. Then, an audible groan of realization at that escaped from him and he tugged her closer into him, ditching his annoyingly suppressive restraint. To hell with it!
Like an amused teacher, patient and observant, he allowed her to initiate as she did. But she soon probed his feral interest and in response, his fervent mouth parted her lips as he sweetly coaxed her open to him. She was warm and sweet to the taste... Faintly like oranges, though, he wasn’t quite sure how that could be possible.
Her exquisite frame pressed against him, searing through the linen fabric of his chintoniskos. Gods... His rugged hands dropped down to the accentuated dip of her waist before gliding possessively into the curve of her lower back. Like a militant on a mission, he was dead set on exploring her further and if that blasted door hadn’t been between them then he would have pulled her in closer, riding her provocatively against him while he meticulously made his acquaintance with every inch of her.
Triggering that innate primal sense in him, his heart rapidly thudded in his chest and a thrill shot through him when her fingernails dug greedily into the back of his neck and a moan of pleasure escaped her. The door had to go!
He tore his firm hands away and was stealthily ripping at the stall door, prepared to tear it off the hinges if need be, when she began to slip away. What?! No, no, no, no, no.... Abandoning the door, Aleks’ grip returned to the small of her back in a desperate attempt to hold onto her. To his dismay, his efforts were to no avail. As Ismene pulled herself away, taunting him with her nip, her small hand settled onto his chest and she angled her face to stare up at him.
His dark brows furrowed over his turbulent eyes and he peered down at her. But-but, why?!
He allowed her face to adjust into his focus and a gust of air escaped through clenched teeth when he exhaled in frustration. What was she thinking? Her distant gaze seemed... Confused? Contemplative? Had he done something wrong? A terribly ego-shattering dread sank in, as that insulting thought stood forefront in his mind, mocking him. No! He couldn’t have done something wrong! ...Could he?
Through a squinted gaze he examined her back before cocking his head with a half-smirk. “Satisfied?”
Ismene’s expressive features seemed to reveal her inner thoughtful state, though Aleksandr hadn’t the faintest clue about what preoccupied her mind. Was she having doubts about her prior statements? He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d frightened her off. Not that it would have been the first time. He’d almost resigned himself, apathetically, to that fate when she stepped back away from the entrance and into the aisle, ergo – closer to him. He didn’t acknowledge the fact that her decision secretly pleased him.
Having fixed his dark gaze along the curvature of her body, Aleksandr raised a brow in question when she suddenly slinked her way over to him. Upon her approach he could make out the freckles dappled across her small nose. Her lips appeared soft, inviting... Her gray eyes, accentuated by thick lashes, burned with passion and an inkling of something else. From the alluring sway of her hips down to the flutter of her pretty eyes, everything in her body language screamed what she was about to do next. Maybe it was because of her prior chilly disposition or simply just because he couldn’t perceive that she actually might do something so boldly vivacious, but nothing in all of Athenia could have prepared him for what happened next.
Fire jolted through him, the flames licking through down to his very core as this girl – nay, this siren – flaunted her way right up to him and pulled her lips up to his, like it was just another daily occurrence between them. For only a slight second, he froze, that cocky grin plastered across his mug. What was she up to? But, in that moment, as her enticing lips met his, he was smug to know that they were, in fact, soft. Then, an audible groan of realization at that escaped from him and he tugged her closer into him, ditching his annoyingly suppressive restraint. To hell with it!
Like an amused teacher, patient and observant, he allowed her to initiate as she did. But she soon probed his feral interest and in response, his fervent mouth parted her lips as he sweetly coaxed her open to him. She was warm and sweet to the taste... Faintly like oranges, though, he wasn’t quite sure how that could be possible.
Her exquisite frame pressed against him, searing through the linen fabric of his chintoniskos. Gods... His rugged hands dropped down to the accentuated dip of her waist before gliding possessively into the curve of her lower back. Like a militant on a mission, he was dead set on exploring her further and if that blasted door hadn’t been between them then he would have pulled her in closer, riding her provocatively against him while he meticulously made his acquaintance with every inch of her.
Triggering that innate primal sense in him, his heart rapidly thudded in his chest and a thrill shot through him when her fingernails dug greedily into the back of his neck and a moan of pleasure escaped her. The door had to go!
He tore his firm hands away and was stealthily ripping at the stall door, prepared to tear it off the hinges if need be, when she began to slip away. What?! No, no, no, no, no.... Abandoning the door, Aleks’ grip returned to the small of her back in a desperate attempt to hold onto her. To his dismay, his efforts were to no avail. As Ismene pulled herself away, taunting him with her nip, her small hand settled onto his chest and she angled her face to stare up at him.
His dark brows furrowed over his turbulent eyes and he peered down at her. But-but, why?!
He allowed her face to adjust into his focus and a gust of air escaped through clenched teeth when he exhaled in frustration. What was she thinking? Her distant gaze seemed... Confused? Contemplative? Had he done something wrong? A terribly ego-shattering dread sank in, as that insulting thought stood forefront in his mind, mocking him. No! He couldn’t have done something wrong! ...Could he?
Through a squinted gaze he examined her back before cocking his head with a half-smirk. “Satisfied?”