Post by Deleted on Nov 4, 2012 23:36:44 GMT -5
(Continued from Surprise At Supper. Open thread!)
The sun dipped low, floating just behind the sparse skyline of Drakborough. Small buildings had their shadows cast into long spears by the fading red of the evening light. Their elongated silhouettes lay on the thoroughfare, made lumpy and twisted by the uneven cobblestone, looking like some dark, misshapen reflection of the woods that bordered the town. There was even a river running through it now, mirroring the one that flowed through Fenrir's Wood; a shining stream of hardened silver that had resulted from the Black Forest Church's pursuit of a certain fugitive lycanthrope.
"It's almost as if the presence of the Church itself is twisting the town into a mockery of the Woods," Ilmar mused to himself cheerfully. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, rather more pleased with the poetry of the whole thing and less perturbed by the wanton destruction than he should have been. Of course, he'd seen the river when he'd arrived at the clothing shop and had been suitably appreciative of the magical skill to produce it mid-battle, but it had been early evening then. Now, the lengthened shadows made all the difference between technical execution and art.
"But I don't have time to be waxing poetic, do I, Payam?" The bespectacled redhead flashed his falcon a wide grin. As per usual, Payam spared him the most put-upon expression a peregrine falcon could manage. As per usual, Ilmar played oblivious. "You're right, of course not," Ilmar replied to himself in his falcon's stead. "I have a date to prepare for, after all!"
This was not good news for Payam. It was never good news when Ilmar got excited. He shifted, ready to flee his perch atop Ilmar's shoulder, but the redhead had already seized a leg and begun affixing a rolled up bit of parchment to it. He screeched, beating his wings at Ilmar's face in protest.
"Pfft! Oh quit it you stupid bird. Here, it's just a quick errand-ckkkpthtoo--" Most of the townsfolk had been cleared out of the area earlier by the BFC, but enough time had passed since then that some had ventured out to complete some nighttime errands they'd been unable to run thanks to the morning commotion. Some stopped to stare at the bird wrestling with his unruly wizard. Others ignored the spectacle, having already been caught up in enough excitement for one day.
After a few moments of spitting out feathers on Ilmar's part, clawing on Payam's part, and much desperate flailing on both ends, the bird was able to escape the grasp of his eternal tomentor. More or less.
"Be sure not to get lost!" Ilmar shouted after him. "That's a very important reservation! Café Iberico, don't forget! And after that, you have to get that to Maggie, okay?"
The sun dipped low, floating just behind the sparse skyline of Drakborough. Small buildings had their shadows cast into long spears by the fading red of the evening light. Their elongated silhouettes lay on the thoroughfare, made lumpy and twisted by the uneven cobblestone, looking like some dark, misshapen reflection of the woods that bordered the town. There was even a river running through it now, mirroring the one that flowed through Fenrir's Wood; a shining stream of hardened silver that had resulted from the Black Forest Church's pursuit of a certain fugitive lycanthrope.
"It's almost as if the presence of the Church itself is twisting the town into a mockery of the Woods," Ilmar mused to himself cheerfully. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, rather more pleased with the poetry of the whole thing and less perturbed by the wanton destruction than he should have been. Of course, he'd seen the river when he'd arrived at the clothing shop and had been suitably appreciative of the magical skill to produce it mid-battle, but it had been early evening then. Now, the lengthened shadows made all the difference between technical execution and art.
"But I don't have time to be waxing poetic, do I, Payam?" The bespectacled redhead flashed his falcon a wide grin. As per usual, Payam spared him the most put-upon expression a peregrine falcon could manage. As per usual, Ilmar played oblivious. "You're right, of course not," Ilmar replied to himself in his falcon's stead. "I have a date to prepare for, after all!"
This was not good news for Payam. It was never good news when Ilmar got excited. He shifted, ready to flee his perch atop Ilmar's shoulder, but the redhead had already seized a leg and begun affixing a rolled up bit of parchment to it. He screeched, beating his wings at Ilmar's face in protest.
"Pfft! Oh quit it you stupid bird. Here, it's just a quick errand-ckkkpthtoo--" Most of the townsfolk had been cleared out of the area earlier by the BFC, but enough time had passed since then that some had ventured out to complete some nighttime errands they'd been unable to run thanks to the morning commotion. Some stopped to stare at the bird wrestling with his unruly wizard. Others ignored the spectacle, having already been caught up in enough excitement for one day.
After a few moments of spitting out feathers on Ilmar's part, clawing on Payam's part, and much desperate flailing on both ends, the bird was able to escape the grasp of his eternal tomentor. More or less.
"Be sure not to get lost!" Ilmar shouted after him. "That's a very important reservation! Café Iberico, don't forget! And after that, you have to get that to Maggie, okay?"