Tune Of A Fickle Heart
Posted: Fri Dec 14, 2007 7:52 pm
(( Open RP. ^_^ ))
Fog had yet again settled low over the silhouette of Troll's Bane, wrapping it in an opaque thickness that muffled sounds like a hand over one's mouth and clouded everything from view. Shadows were hidden, even buildings did not rise from the moon-lit mist before one was mere steps from their walls. This isolation to even the nearest surroundings left the figures still moving about to walk with cautious, nervous steps. It was a thief's night, danger could be afoot and one would never realize for the thick shield the Gods so cruelly wrought upon the tortured city.
Amrynn could sense the hesitation that beat through all but the most fearless of souls. Her quiet steps down the road between the tavern and library were taken with care. All that met her ears was the muffled sound of gurgling water as she neared the stream that slit through the town accompanied by her own hitched and nervous breathing. The fog clung like desperate hands to the soft maroon of her dress, leaving signs of its touch by the slight darkening of the moisture upon the cloth. The dampness of these obscure hands sent a chilled shiver down her spine as her hands fumbled to pull the dark cloak set high on her thin shoulders about her tighter, unwillingly hastening her steps.
No longer had she tried to escape the grip of the fog - to no avail - did she find herself stumbling onto the foot of the small bridge. Hands flying from her desperate grasp about her cloak to steady the ungraceful stumble, Amrynn froze for a long moment to settle herself. Her chest rose and fell without restraint as the fright of the sudden trip washed quickly over her. Once settled, she straightens again and looks about, though all that meets her eyes is the fog and a cloudy hint of orange-red light of the nearing flame she was destined too. A soft, nervous laugh at her own folly escapes her lips before she turns ahead and eases her way over the bridge. A skittish deer. My heart races simply because I tripped myself. Why the fear? Fog is nothing to fear. Slowly, these thoughts crossed her mind as she lifts a hand to her chest, the heightened crescendo of her heartbeat felt by her palm. Taking a slow breath to ease the startled nervousness about her, Amrynn finished the slow trek to the quaint little camp area near the tavern. The fire always alight there was a pitiful sight, barely clinging to the crumbling embers, fighting a losing battle against the moisture of the fog enclosing it slowly. Carefully, the elven woman sits against the damp logs placed about the flame, running searching hands through the dewy grass until she found a collection of small twigs, throwing them into the flames at an attempt to liven it.
To no avail. With a soft groan, she stands and skips over to a nearby tree, snapping its limbs away, her blue gaze shifting about in the distant fog. Shaking her slightly dampened blonde curls, the elven woman stepped again over the thick log and set the larger branches into the fire, a smile of victory touching her lips as the flames wrap about the branches, scarring the wood and stripping the leaves away. With a sigh of relief, she pulls herself near the heat of the fire, letting its warmth run over her body. The flames, as they heated and shied away the grips of the thick fog, was a comfort to her. In fact, the place in general was gradually becoming a spot of comfort. Why? She wondered. What was so great about this place?
She knew, but she wasn't willing to admit. Pursing her lips, Amrynn pulled her legs up slowly, a hand carefully arranging the skirts of her dress about her. Her blue gaze was caught by the dance of the crackling flames, the fear of her surroundings forgotten as her thoughts began to wander. The warmth of the fire as it caressed her face lulled her into an oblivious state, her face falling blank beneath the flickering contrast of the fire's light. She didn't want to think of why she found herself so interested in this rather inglorious place. What, was she just simply waiting for him to come about? Yes... That was precisely why she frequented this area. In hopes to see that thieving charmer of hers that had struck alight a merciless curiosity in her. It sickened the woman. She knew well that she had every reason to feel disdain in the face of that man, yet her fickle heart would not let her be. Falsities, that was all that spilled forth in each of his smooth words, she knew it. So why did she bother?
Heaving a sigh, Amrynn blinked away the brightness of the flame as she looked over its flickering tendrils toward the far wall hidden beneath the lingering fog. Her arms had risen to rest atop her knees, one hand again placed against her chest, the beat of her heart touching a tune against her small palm. A weary smile curled across her lips. No longer was it the beat of a frightened creature desperate to flee, as it had been earlier. Now, it was a much more bothersome tune it beat. Though to any medico that might have felt the heart's beating, it would seem normal, Amrynn knew better. She was in trouble. That tune... That tune was the tune of a fickle heart, and all she would let it do is shatter in a halting closure if it continued playing now...
Fog had yet again settled low over the silhouette of Troll's Bane, wrapping it in an opaque thickness that muffled sounds like a hand over one's mouth and clouded everything from view. Shadows were hidden, even buildings did not rise from the moon-lit mist before one was mere steps from their walls. This isolation to even the nearest surroundings left the figures still moving about to walk with cautious, nervous steps. It was a thief's night, danger could be afoot and one would never realize for the thick shield the Gods so cruelly wrought upon the tortured city.
Amrynn could sense the hesitation that beat through all but the most fearless of souls. Her quiet steps down the road between the tavern and library were taken with care. All that met her ears was the muffled sound of gurgling water as she neared the stream that slit through the town accompanied by her own hitched and nervous breathing. The fog clung like desperate hands to the soft maroon of her dress, leaving signs of its touch by the slight darkening of the moisture upon the cloth. The dampness of these obscure hands sent a chilled shiver down her spine as her hands fumbled to pull the dark cloak set high on her thin shoulders about her tighter, unwillingly hastening her steps.
No longer had she tried to escape the grip of the fog - to no avail - did she find herself stumbling onto the foot of the small bridge. Hands flying from her desperate grasp about her cloak to steady the ungraceful stumble, Amrynn froze for a long moment to settle herself. Her chest rose and fell without restraint as the fright of the sudden trip washed quickly over her. Once settled, she straightens again and looks about, though all that meets her eyes is the fog and a cloudy hint of orange-red light of the nearing flame she was destined too. A soft, nervous laugh at her own folly escapes her lips before she turns ahead and eases her way over the bridge. A skittish deer. My heart races simply because I tripped myself. Why the fear? Fog is nothing to fear. Slowly, these thoughts crossed her mind as she lifts a hand to her chest, the heightened crescendo of her heartbeat felt by her palm. Taking a slow breath to ease the startled nervousness about her, Amrynn finished the slow trek to the quaint little camp area near the tavern. The fire always alight there was a pitiful sight, barely clinging to the crumbling embers, fighting a losing battle against the moisture of the fog enclosing it slowly. Carefully, the elven woman sits against the damp logs placed about the flame, running searching hands through the dewy grass until she found a collection of small twigs, throwing them into the flames at an attempt to liven it.
To no avail. With a soft groan, she stands and skips over to a nearby tree, snapping its limbs away, her blue gaze shifting about in the distant fog. Shaking her slightly dampened blonde curls, the elven woman stepped again over the thick log and set the larger branches into the fire, a smile of victory touching her lips as the flames wrap about the branches, scarring the wood and stripping the leaves away. With a sigh of relief, she pulls herself near the heat of the fire, letting its warmth run over her body. The flames, as they heated and shied away the grips of the thick fog, was a comfort to her. In fact, the place in general was gradually becoming a spot of comfort. Why? She wondered. What was so great about this place?
She knew, but she wasn't willing to admit. Pursing her lips, Amrynn pulled her legs up slowly, a hand carefully arranging the skirts of her dress about her. Her blue gaze was caught by the dance of the crackling flames, the fear of her surroundings forgotten as her thoughts began to wander. The warmth of the fire as it caressed her face lulled her into an oblivious state, her face falling blank beneath the flickering contrast of the fire's light. She didn't want to think of why she found herself so interested in this rather inglorious place. What, was she just simply waiting for him to come about? Yes... That was precisely why she frequented this area. In hopes to see that thieving charmer of hers that had struck alight a merciless curiosity in her. It sickened the woman. She knew well that she had every reason to feel disdain in the face of that man, yet her fickle heart would not let her be. Falsities, that was all that spilled forth in each of his smooth words, she knew it. So why did she bother?
Heaving a sigh, Amrynn blinked away the brightness of the flame as she looked over its flickering tendrils toward the far wall hidden beneath the lingering fog. Her arms had risen to rest atop her knees, one hand again placed against her chest, the beat of her heart touching a tune against her small palm. A weary smile curled across her lips. No longer was it the beat of a frightened creature desperate to flee, as it had been earlier. Now, it was a much more bothersome tune it beat. Though to any medico that might have felt the heart's beating, it would seem normal, Amrynn knew better. She was in trouble. That tune... That tune was the tune of a fickle heart, and all she would let it do is shatter in a halting closure if it continued playing now...