Marcel’s laugh was warm and unguarded, his shoulders relaxing at Eithne’s playful tone. He appreciated these moments when she let her walls down, even just a little. It reminded him of why he fought so hard to keep her grounded—why they worked so well together.
The path ahead grew narrower, the crumbled remnants of an ancient stone bridge forcing them to tread single file. Marcel stepped ahead, his staff tapping against the ground with an absent rhythm. His earth magic wasn’t active, but his connection to it felt like a steady hum in the back of his mind, grounding him.
After a while, he glanced back at Eithne, the golden morning light catching in her hair. The sight struck him, and for a moment, words caught in his throat. Instead of voicing whatever sentiment had flickered to life, he turned his gaze forward, his cheeks faintly warm.
He didn’t entirely believe it, but it felt worth saying. The reality of Blight was rarely so benign, but Eithne deserved a little hope to hold onto. Even if it was fleeting, Marcel thought, they could both use something to lighten the weight pressing down on their shoulders.
The sound of birdsong broke the stillness around them as they crested a hill. Below, the town stretched out in the distance, smoke curling lazily from chimneys, the first signs of life stirring in the early morning. To anyone else, it might have looked idyllic, but to Marcel and Eithne, it was a puzzle waiting to be solved—and potentially, a danger waiting to be contained.
Marcel paused, letting Eithne catch up beside him. He reached for her hand briefly, squeezing it before letting go.
@Eithne
Ah, yes, separate baths—don’t want to scandalize the innkeeper,he teased, the corner of his mouth tugging into a grin.
But seriously, I get it. A bath, some decent food, and maybe a chance to sleep without the looming threat of Blight… sounds like paradise. And hey, sharing the wilds with you? Not a bad gig. Even if you keep threatening to set things on fire.He bumped his shoulder gently against hers, his tone light but sincere.
The path ahead grew narrower, the crumbled remnants of an ancient stone bridge forcing them to tread single file. Marcel stepped ahead, his staff tapping against the ground with an absent rhythm. His earth magic wasn’t active, but his connection to it felt like a steady hum in the back of his mind, grounding him.
After a while, he glanced back at Eithne, the golden morning light catching in her hair. The sight struck him, and for a moment, words caught in his throat. Instead of voicing whatever sentiment had flickered to life, he turned his gaze forward, his cheeks faintly warm.
You know,he began after a pause,
there’s a chance we won’t find anything too bad in this town. Sometimes the rumors are worse than the reality. Could be just a sick cow or two. We could be back at that inn faster than you think, toasting to a job well done.
He didn’t entirely believe it, but it felt worth saying. The reality of Blight was rarely so benign, but Eithne deserved a little hope to hold onto. Even if it was fleeting, Marcel thought, they could both use something to lighten the weight pressing down on their shoulders.
The sound of birdsong broke the stillness around them as they crested a hill. Below, the town stretched out in the distance, smoke curling lazily from chimneys, the first signs of life stirring in the early morning. To anyone else, it might have looked idyllic, but to Marcel and Eithne, it was a puzzle waiting to be solved—and potentially, a danger waiting to be contained.
Marcel paused, letting Eithne catch up beside him. He reached for her hand briefly, squeezing it before letting go.
We’ve got this, Ethie. One step at a time.
@Eithne
11-15-2024, 05:58 PM
