02-28-2021, 06:09 PM
[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; width: 310px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]It would be rather appropriate to deem Harland a coward, though it was more of his own choice compared to an involuntary part of who he was. As such a choice for the behaviour to change, one he had grown tentative with, yet as the days passed, more tantalising had it grown.
Each pressed further time between his misstep of running when faced with a compliment he had grown unsure on how to take, the nature of it thrilling and terrifying at once. Avoidance had been comfortable and familiar, few the times the other was spoken to, in passing at most, an acquaintance at best and thus no poorer for leaving it at such. Why was it his heart felt crushed when he fled with quickened steps to dissuade conversation, wished to turn back and apologise, say everything that had been on his mind in that moment. Because he was a coward all by choice, let his life be dictated by the whims of others and now the terror of such was known.
Quiet the scrap of his claws against cobble, before the entrance of the tavern settled. Only moments before, or what he thought of as such even as the minutes passed and he never noticed, exited with intent to seek the dealer and put to rest his worries. Something had stopped him, his throat closed about each thought he wished to express, questions among them. Could he truly have meant it in such fashion, been serious or simply fun with it. He seemed the kind of guy to be loose with such, compliments easily falling from his tongue and sought, a sight that demanded attention for all the gold he wore. And he deserved it, only accented his rugged charm by his chosen accessories.
Heat scoured his cheeks as he brushed that particular line of thought aside. Indeed, he had found he looked after Michael at times, enamoured by looks not ruined by the apparent wear of age and combat, rather it was fitting. Each seemed a further highlight, as his golden jewellery was, so stark a different against the ebony backdrop, a draw for the eye. His paws arose, forehead struck as he ground out an annoyed groan. Such thoughts were not something he should be having, not when clarification was needed. Too soon did it feel since he had stumbled across the aftermath with the dealer caught in the depths of a panic attack, this a time when he'd be tender in his grief.
Why was it he wished to be selfish and respond in kind even as his mind and body raged against one another, wanted both sides — to be the compassionate voice of reason, help him through this as he had others before, and to pursue what was put before him, whisper each thought that had arisen into his ear. The choice was not his, never was, a bridge upon which only the middle ground may yield a true final decision.
Thoughts scatter, noticeable beneath the din of voices the sound of wheels against the stone, irregular their turn as the path it follows. Upwards his eyes trail, seen first the cart. Strange the assortment seen over the side, little as it is. His curiosity is only further piqued at the quiet sounds a particular box seems to be making, shuffling and squeaks, the origin difficult to determine. About his attention swivels, directed towards the one that pulled it along with query present on the tip of his tongue, swallowed when he realised who it was. Michael.
There had been an occasion Harland had been at his home, though had not entered for such seemed rather rude after what he had gone through, and never noticed his assortment of rats. He bore no issue with the rodents, though mild his confusion as he called for attention with an offer that was decidedly further perplexing. Baby rats as companions. As one may expect Har deemed most small creatures as only a source of food rather than comfort or companionship, the practice simply not common when he had been a child. He would not begrudge another such, though was hesitant to join in, for a time left merely sitting there studying the dealer.
He seemed better. Of course Harland lacked any idea of what he once was like and knew only this gradual change from the isolated and depressed mess he had been, though what he had picked up from Diya had been worrying. At the very least Michael seemed brighter and alert, the prospect of giving his rats away dampening it some, though that would be expected if this Princess had been with him for a time and giving her babies away did seem more out of necessity then choice. Time continued on and no other stepped forth, few showing a small bit of interest before moving on. Against his better judgement Har arose and stepped closer, uneasy each step, slowed by hesitation.
Would Michael even wish to speak to him after his snap decision, one he had come to regret almost instantly after the choice had been made. Had he thought himself in the wrong, excused his own terrible behaviour by taking the blame on his own shoulders entirely undeserved. Such and more all he could think about on the short walk from his prior placement to where Michael had set himself up, his nerves provoked to such a point he wished to run once more. He was not given that option, however. Unknowingly had he stopped before the bobcat, worry written along his features, ears lowered as he slowly came out of his thoughts. It would be beyond rude to once more depart with any hasty excuse he could make up, something he did not wish for with how poor an impression he had left last time.
"Oh um… Hello Michael," he stammered in a quiet voice, gravelly tone further warping the words. A wince briefly accompanied a clearing of his throat, head turned away so his embarrassment may be hidden. Schooled into a small, and rather noticeably tense smile, when once more was the dealer regarded his attention deviated for a moment, his supplies looked to as words formed. "I wanted to apologise for my behaviour from before, your comment was just very… Unexpected." And very nice. Such kept behind closed lips, loosened now as his smile grew, still unsure but his confidence bolstered a slight bit.
About his gaze travelled, sought any that may be within close enough proximity to hear him. Satisfied with his assessment he leaned closer, his words meant only for Michael and he wished to keep it that way. "You're quite handsome, if you don't mind me saying." Once more flushed his cheeks as he moved back, a few steps taken to give Michael some room, though it was largely for his own benefit, sheepish now his smile. Impossible had it grown to meet his eyes and so Har settled on looking to the contents of the cart. "Could I see them." Unnecessary the gesture of a paw, though it was something he may do to halt the desire to fidget. Still was he unsure on actually taking one, he was not overly confident in his skill to take care of himself though time had seen him improve, the idea was novel and may be an interesting experience. And he was none too fussed with the notion that he may see Michael more to get some tips, the dealer seemed rather adept at handling the care of the rats and would be a big assistance if he was allowed one.
Each pressed further time between his misstep of running when faced with a compliment he had grown unsure on how to take, the nature of it thrilling and terrifying at once. Avoidance had been comfortable and familiar, few the times the other was spoken to, in passing at most, an acquaintance at best and thus no poorer for leaving it at such. Why was it his heart felt crushed when he fled with quickened steps to dissuade conversation, wished to turn back and apologise, say everything that had been on his mind in that moment. Because he was a coward all by choice, let his life be dictated by the whims of others and now the terror of such was known.
Quiet the scrap of his claws against cobble, before the entrance of the tavern settled. Only moments before, or what he thought of as such even as the minutes passed and he never noticed, exited with intent to seek the dealer and put to rest his worries. Something had stopped him, his throat closed about each thought he wished to express, questions among them. Could he truly have meant it in such fashion, been serious or simply fun with it. He seemed the kind of guy to be loose with such, compliments easily falling from his tongue and sought, a sight that demanded attention for all the gold he wore. And he deserved it, only accented his rugged charm by his chosen accessories.
Heat scoured his cheeks as he brushed that particular line of thought aside. Indeed, he had found he looked after Michael at times, enamoured by looks not ruined by the apparent wear of age and combat, rather it was fitting. Each seemed a further highlight, as his golden jewellery was, so stark a different against the ebony backdrop, a draw for the eye. His paws arose, forehead struck as he ground out an annoyed groan. Such thoughts were not something he should be having, not when clarification was needed. Too soon did it feel since he had stumbled across the aftermath with the dealer caught in the depths of a panic attack, this a time when he'd be tender in his grief.
Why was it he wished to be selfish and respond in kind even as his mind and body raged against one another, wanted both sides — to be the compassionate voice of reason, help him through this as he had others before, and to pursue what was put before him, whisper each thought that had arisen into his ear. The choice was not his, never was, a bridge upon which only the middle ground may yield a true final decision.
Thoughts scatter, noticeable beneath the din of voices the sound of wheels against the stone, irregular their turn as the path it follows. Upwards his eyes trail, seen first the cart. Strange the assortment seen over the side, little as it is. His curiosity is only further piqued at the quiet sounds a particular box seems to be making, shuffling and squeaks, the origin difficult to determine. About his attention swivels, directed towards the one that pulled it along with query present on the tip of his tongue, swallowed when he realised who it was. Michael.
There had been an occasion Harland had been at his home, though had not entered for such seemed rather rude after what he had gone through, and never noticed his assortment of rats. He bore no issue with the rodents, though mild his confusion as he called for attention with an offer that was decidedly further perplexing. Baby rats as companions. As one may expect Har deemed most small creatures as only a source of food rather than comfort or companionship, the practice simply not common when he had been a child. He would not begrudge another such, though was hesitant to join in, for a time left merely sitting there studying the dealer.
He seemed better. Of course Harland lacked any idea of what he once was like and knew only this gradual change from the isolated and depressed mess he had been, though what he had picked up from Diya had been worrying. At the very least Michael seemed brighter and alert, the prospect of giving his rats away dampening it some, though that would be expected if this Princess had been with him for a time and giving her babies away did seem more out of necessity then choice. Time continued on and no other stepped forth, few showing a small bit of interest before moving on. Against his better judgement Har arose and stepped closer, uneasy each step, slowed by hesitation.
Would Michael even wish to speak to him after his snap decision, one he had come to regret almost instantly after the choice had been made. Had he thought himself in the wrong, excused his own terrible behaviour by taking the blame on his own shoulders entirely undeserved. Such and more all he could think about on the short walk from his prior placement to where Michael had set himself up, his nerves provoked to such a point he wished to run once more. He was not given that option, however. Unknowingly had he stopped before the bobcat, worry written along his features, ears lowered as he slowly came out of his thoughts. It would be beyond rude to once more depart with any hasty excuse he could make up, something he did not wish for with how poor an impression he had left last time.
"Oh um… Hello Michael," he stammered in a quiet voice, gravelly tone further warping the words. A wince briefly accompanied a clearing of his throat, head turned away so his embarrassment may be hidden. Schooled into a small, and rather noticeably tense smile, when once more was the dealer regarded his attention deviated for a moment, his supplies looked to as words formed. "I wanted to apologise for my behaviour from before, your comment was just very… Unexpected." And very nice. Such kept behind closed lips, loosened now as his smile grew, still unsure but his confidence bolstered a slight bit.
About his gaze travelled, sought any that may be within close enough proximity to hear him. Satisfied with his assessment he leaned closer, his words meant only for Michael and he wished to keep it that way. "You're quite handsome, if you don't mind me saying." Once more flushed his cheeks as he moved back, a few steps taken to give Michael some room, though it was largely for his own benefit, sheepish now his smile. Impossible had it grown to meet his eyes and so Har settled on looking to the contents of the cart. "Could I see them." Unnecessary the gesture of a paw, though it was something he may do to halt the desire to fidget. Still was he unsure on actually taking one, he was not overly confident in his skill to take care of himself though time had seen him improve, the idea was novel and may be an interesting experience. And he was none too fussed with the notion that he may see Michael more to get some tips, the dealer seemed rather adept at handling the care of the rats and would be a big assistance if he was allowed one.