family matters

[font=Arial, serif]The idea had been to start with the furthest lead and then work backwards to Arlathan. In hindsight, he was glad of it. The greater the distance from the Marches, the better. Something which Ruth never thought would cross his mind regarding the land of the Dog Lords. He usually hated Ferelden. Too damp and with a cold that could sneak through the thickest layers worn to chill a man to the bone. Ruth hated the fucking cold above all else, usually sporting many layers unless the weather was as it had been lately, freakishly unusual. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]This library had been mentioned to him a few times, curiously untouched or at least badly catalogued enough he’d been searching it far longer than intended. As usual, he had nested. Growing distracted by a text or two that had sparked a vague interest in some myth about something called a Kelpie. A shapeshifting water creature which tempted victims to their deaths by enticing them to ride their ghostly, ethereal horse's form. [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]As the voice called out, Ruth’s reading paused, and he expelled an exaggerated sigh. Cross-legged, his back leant back against the wall to find the person so hell bent on interrupting his valuable reading time. “... Isn’t it obvious?” a hand lifted the book a fraction, the pages ruffling with the motion. He was entirely too relaxed, as if being caught red-handed wasn’t unusual for him. [font=Arial, serif]“I’m reading,”[/font] rolling his eyes for added measure. “It’s the first time I’ve heard mention of a murderous sea horse, partly wondering if it’s based on one of the old elvhen ones.”  [/font]

[font=Arial, serif]He wasn’t. It had just been an amusing distraction for this frustratingly disorganised hellscape. “I get around. It’s a talent.”
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