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Novnarwen · 01-20-2005, 11:55 AM

“Father, Tarkan?”

Almost startled by being interrupted, he eyed Pelin coming towards him. There he is. Like a servant he runs my errands, like poultry he obeys me and as far as his curiosity goes, he’s like a child… Inside, the Priest was laughing wildly, madly in love with the idea of having Pelin act more as a disciple than a fellow brother in faith. Pelin had been nothing but kind and gentle towards the Priest and ever since they had met, Pelin had been admiring the Priest more than the King himself. He had been fully devoted to the Priest, who had treated him with strictness, but also a form of respect. Yet, the priest, too self obsessed, did not have any feelings for someone who was weak, someone like Pelin. Poor Pelin; if it was up to the priest, Pelin would never know his own part in this play, not before it would be too late.

Smiling faintly, (whether it was of a mocking character or if it was sincere, it was difficult to tell,) the Priest came to meet him. “What took you so long?” he asked the young man, being unexpectedly strict. Narrowing his eyes, he tried reading the man’s thoughts. Was he already obsessed with the book and the letter? Was he to wait a bit more before he did something; let Pelin get even more curious? With wrinkled brows, Tarkan cast a simple look at the wheelbarrow which Pelin had brought with him containing all of Tarkan’s belongings, trying to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure moving. As a woman took a step forward, the Priest instantly recognized her as the Princess Gjeelea. Seeing her, he was stricken with a numbness he barely knew existed.

“Princess,” Tarkan muttered and bowed in respect. “How can I help you, my lady?” he asked politely, being insecure, feeling his cheeks getting redder and redder. All he could think of now, embarrassed by the situation he found himself in, was how he were to make Pelin’s life miserable after this. Pelin should have known that this was not the time do make arrangements with the Royal family. He frowned, looking at the Princess, thinking. Had she come on her own initiative maybe?

[Under construction. Only to extend paragraphs, not to go further in events.]

01-20-2005, 11:55 AM	#148
Novnarwen Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In your mouth... Eeeew, by the way. :P Posts: 517	Tarkan “Father, Tarkan?” Almost startled by being interrupted, he eyed Pelin coming towards him. There he is. Like a servant he runs my errands, like poultry he obeys me and as far as his curiosity goes, he’s like a child… Inside, the Priest was laughing wildly, madly in love with the idea of having Pelin act more as a disciple than a fellow brother in faith. Pelin had been nothing but kind and gentle towards the Priest and ever since they had met, Pelin had been admiring the Priest more than the King himself. He had been fully devoted to the Priest, who had treated him with strictness, but also a form of respect. Yet, the priest, too self obsessed, did not have any feelings for someone who was weak, someone like Pelin. Poor Pelin; if it was up to the priest, Pelin would never know his own part in this play, not before it would be too late. Smiling faintly, (whether it was of a mocking character or if it was sincere, it was difficult to tell,) the Priest came to meet him. “What took you so long?” he asked the young man, being unexpectedly strict. Narrowing his eyes, he tried reading the man’s thoughts. Was he already obsessed with the book and the letter? Was he to wait a bit more before he did something; let Pelin get even more curious? With wrinkled brows, Tarkan cast a simple look at the wheelbarrow which Pelin had brought with him containing all of Tarkan’s belongings, trying to avoid eye contact. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure moving. As a woman took a step forward, the Priest instantly recognized her as the Princess Gjeelea. Seeing her, he was stricken with a numbness he barely knew existed. “Princess,” Tarkan muttered and bowed in respect. “How can I help you, my lady?” he asked politely, being insecure, feeling his cheeks getting redder and redder. All he could think of now, embarrassed by the situation he found himself in, was how he were to make Pelin’s life miserable after this. Pelin should have known that this was not the time do make arrangements with the Royal family. He frowned, looking at the Princess, thinking. Had she come on her own initiative maybe? [Under construction. Only to extend paragraphs, not to go further in events.] Last edited by Novnarwen; 01-20-2005 at 12:03 PM.