03-30-2021, 07:42 AM
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[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: georgia; color: #74657c; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px;"]ALL THE STARS ARE FIXED UP IN THE SKY
Spirited seemed a somewhat unfitting descriptor, lacking the grandeur that bellied the manner the wildcat held himself, alight visage and voice in exuberation. Maybe requesting one that acted as a proper fit, that encompassed all in a neat and tidy fashion, simply a task much too grand to be accomplished. Better, possibly, the poor fit that allowed room for more, beyond the menial monikers that may be bestowed by one such as he. So, for the moment, it seemed rather apt to deem Kian as quite spirited.
Befitting, then, the spread of a smile that bore a mirth he felt reflected across his own lips as his gaze wandered upward, a poor mirror though one he allowed readily to stay. So too was his speech alight with a similar quality, light but tangible the presence of something more, accented in a way he had not noticed in others. Except for Keona. This thought drew his eye to the one in question, rapid the blinks he took as the realisation settled, the manner Kian spoke, though unknown the words through the barrier of language, and similarities evidence enough.
No time was presented where he may further dissect that, brief his turn to Salem and Roan, thoughts now occupied with the question of if they too bore similar connection, the chance taken as he was addressed in turn. Laughter followed the light remark, one that shrank the smile Harland bore yet genuine it now, hushed his own offered laughter. Indeed, no more correct a statement had he heard about the clinging grains. A shock had it been the first time, the texture and the manner it clung to each fine strand offering only confusion and questions, though time had seen him grown familiar with it.
Such meagre experience led to the query posed acted as another hole within his knowledge, slight the manner his head tilted as he pondered the implication. He knew of castles, seen them within the various picture books often used to put him to sleep as a child, though one of sand. "I've never made one before." The admittance was made in a sheepish tone, his gaze averted though, rather quickly, it was drawn back.
The comment of the coldsnap that had struck the Pitt was one he had not missed, though it had been dismissed out of hand, an oddity he deemed impossible. And yet it was corroborated by Roan, quelled any doubt though still did the idea fit poorly. Harland knew of the Pitt though he might not speak any further, his experience was only via talk as much too grand was the issues with other groups for them to be a priority before. It seemed he had been rather focused on issues at home over that at large, for now his questions were stowed, the agreement that building a sandcastle would be a pleasant pastime reason enough. He had no hand in that which occurred within the Pitt and asking may ruin a perfectly fine day, thus alone was it left for now as he awaited instruction.
[/td][/tr][/table]Befitting, then, the spread of a smile that bore a mirth he felt reflected across his own lips as his gaze wandered upward, a poor mirror though one he allowed readily to stay. So too was his speech alight with a similar quality, light but tangible the presence of something more, accented in a way he had not noticed in others. Except for Keona. This thought drew his eye to the one in question, rapid the blinks he took as the realisation settled, the manner Kian spoke, though unknown the words through the barrier of language, and similarities evidence enough.
No time was presented where he may further dissect that, brief his turn to Salem and Roan, thoughts now occupied with the question of if they too bore similar connection, the chance taken as he was addressed in turn. Laughter followed the light remark, one that shrank the smile Harland bore yet genuine it now, hushed his own offered laughter. Indeed, no more correct a statement had he heard about the clinging grains. A shock had it been the first time, the texture and the manner it clung to each fine strand offering only confusion and questions, though time had seen him grown familiar with it.
Such meagre experience led to the query posed acted as another hole within his knowledge, slight the manner his head tilted as he pondered the implication. He knew of castles, seen them within the various picture books often used to put him to sleep as a child, though one of sand. "I've never made one before." The admittance was made in a sheepish tone, his gaze averted though, rather quickly, it was drawn back.
The comment of the coldsnap that had struck the Pitt was one he had not missed, though it had been dismissed out of hand, an oddity he deemed impossible. And yet it was corroborated by Roan, quelled any doubt though still did the idea fit poorly. Harland knew of the Pitt though he might not speak any further, his experience was only via talk as much too grand was the issues with other groups for them to be a priority before. It seemed he had been rather focused on issues at home over that at large, for now his questions were stowed, the agreement that building a sandcastle would be a pleasant pastime reason enough. He had no hand in that which occurred within the Pitt and asking may ruin a perfectly fine day, thus alone was it left for now as he awaited instruction.
© MADI