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Orual · 05-11-2004, 08:07 PM

As the merchant and his servant rode away, seething, Ravion took his arrow from his bow and stuck it into the ground before his feet. "As good here as it would be in your back. You are a waste of an arrow," he shouted after the merchant.

The retreating villains were not the only ones who were seething. Ravion had tried to keep his temper during the skirmish, not wanting to escalate the tensions, and certainly not wanting to slip in an ill-timed word after Raefindan's bargain. Perhaps the man had more to learn about archery, but he was certainly a soothing presence, and there was a bond between the red-haired man and Mellonin. Ravion could not afford to lose him. But still, it had been a bitter struggle, and one narrowly won. A victory was a victory, though, he supposed...

He turned to Aeron with sharp words ready on his tongue, but saw the boy huddled with his sister, calming her. The words died, and the tip of Ravion's anger dissolved. He was by no means pacified, but he now was conscious of the cold, uncomfortable silence that had fallen, like the chill before a hurricane.

Mellonin was shaking. Ravion realized that her role as "Lord Fingon" had not been an easy one for her. There had been much at stake, and she had borne up admirably, but she was still a very young woman who had to take on an odd role at a precarious time. He grabbed his arrow and shoved it into his quiver, and laid his bow on the ground. He walked over to Mellonin and put a hand on her shoulder...but before he could say anything, she started to sob.

It took him by surprise. He shot Raefindan a panicked glance, but the red-haired man just shrugged helplessly. Unsure of what to do, he put his arms around her, and tried to comfort her.

05-11-2004, 08:07 PM	#207
Orual Speaker of the Dead Join Date: Oct 2002 Location: Superbia Posts: 901	Anorien: Ravion As the merchant and his servant rode away, seething, Ravion took his arrow from his bow and stuck it into the ground before his feet. "As good here as it would be in your back. You are a waste of an arrow," he shouted after the merchant. The retreating villains were not the only ones who were seething. Ravion had tried to keep his temper during the skirmish, not wanting to escalate the tensions, and certainly not wanting to slip in an ill-timed word after Raefindan's bargain. Perhaps the man had more to learn about archery, but he was certainly a soothing presence, and there was a bond between the red-haired man and Mellonin. Ravion could not afford to lose him. But still, it had been a bitter struggle, and one narrowly won. A victory was a victory, though, he supposed... He turned to Aeron with sharp words ready on his tongue, but saw the boy huddled with his sister, calming her. The words died, and the tip of Ravion's anger dissolved. He was by no means pacified, but he now was conscious of the cold, uncomfortable silence that had fallen, like the chill before a hurricane. Mellonin was shaking. Ravion realized that her role as "Lord Fingon" had not been an easy one for her. There had been much at stake, and she had borne up admirably, but she was still a very young woman who had to take on an odd role at a precarious time. He grabbed his arrow and shoved it into his quiver, and laid his bow on the ground. He walked over to Mellonin and put a hand on her shoulder...but before he could say anything, she started to sob. It took him by surprise. He shot Raefindan a panicked glance, but the red-haired man just shrugged helplessly. Unsure of what to do, he put his arms around her, and tried to comfort her.