01-05-2021, 08:31 AM
[div style="margin: auto; background-image: linear-gradient(to top left, #74646C 50%, #886253 50%); max-width: 475px; height: auto; padding: 2%; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid;"][div style="margin: auto; background-color: #1d1d1d; max-width: 475px; color: #fefefe; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; border: 1px #1d1d1d solid; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Routine had it grown, scripted events followed without act of particular order nor direction, a base guideline, yet outcome sought always the same. Each concluded in failure even as means of beginning changed, new direction or opening decided upon, course unset and thus unpredictable until moment it commenced. It seemed second nature the foil, a game of cat and mouse between father and son, the behest ignored for what was wanted. And right did New hold, his time alongside, should have been present before all with the first decree of transition.
Against wooden boards claws ran, whorls and grooves followed, traced the erratic passage by vision. Known the reasons, spoken about night prior so no foul surprise may be sprung upon New, sympathy all he had garnered. Expected this, and it indeed seemed a befitting course of action as his locomotion only begun to grow sure with time, still felt a slight much too large against his own son. Never deterred, however, continued his attempts to venture beyond the perimeter of the town, a fortitude unbroken even by set backs.
Thoughts spiralled, broke away as though they were little more than fraying string, unease growing in his chest. There seemed to be no method to halt his wayward exploration, thus devised a plan Salvia hoped may quell some of the wanderlust New carried. Near closed door of their home did he come to stand, beside wicker basket, contents simple, loose sheets among a jumble of drawing utensils and some pilfered stickers that may mark points of interest. New may be confined to the town but such allowed for other things, his own meagre experience with the world beyond enough to hopefully made this little endeavour worthwhile for them both.
"New, are you free, I got, um, something for you, sorta…" Uncertainty coiled about his gentle call, placement abandoned so he may speak deeper into the house, a beckon he half-heartedly performed for he knew well New cared little for being cooped inside even as the morning only just began to draw to a close.
Against wooden boards claws ran, whorls and grooves followed, traced the erratic passage by vision. Known the reasons, spoken about night prior so no foul surprise may be sprung upon New, sympathy all he had garnered. Expected this, and it indeed seemed a befitting course of action as his locomotion only begun to grow sure with time, still felt a slight much too large against his own son. Never deterred, however, continued his attempts to venture beyond the perimeter of the town, a fortitude unbroken even by set backs.
Thoughts spiralled, broke away as though they were little more than fraying string, unease growing in his chest. There seemed to be no method to halt his wayward exploration, thus devised a plan Salvia hoped may quell some of the wanderlust New carried. Near closed door of their home did he come to stand, beside wicker basket, contents simple, loose sheets among a jumble of drawing utensils and some pilfered stickers that may mark points of interest. New may be confined to the town but such allowed for other things, his own meagre experience with the world beyond enough to hopefully made this little endeavour worthwhile for them both.
"New, are you free, I got, um, something for you, sorta…" Uncertainty coiled about his gentle call, placement abandoned so he may speak deeper into the house, a beckon he half-heartedly performed for he knew well New cared little for being cooped inside even as the morning only just began to draw to a close.