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 Posted: Thu Feb 03, 2011 8:20 pm
The youthful hraapea twiddled his thumbs as he perched on the edge of the bench, his good eye sweeping to and fro at the passers-by. He'd already vacated the shop behind him, one that touted sweets and other goodies as its wares...partially of his own accord, and the rest by a nudge from his guardian. Eldrick had managed to trip over his own feet again, something that he did ever so often, and that usually resulted in at least a bump and perhaps a scuffed knee. This time, however, it had caused a rack of toffees and other sugary treats to come tumbling down onto the floor, the owner of the establishment scowling down at the dark-haired historian in a manner that promised fiery wrath and a grand negotiation of potential profit to come. The overbearing aunt sort of woman, she'd handed the gyrfalcon child a lolly and both adults had rather insinuated that he go sit outside for a while whilst they 'talked'.
...Alasdair could take a hint. Shifting his wings rather unfortably beneath his jacket, he glanced to the sides to see if anyone was watching, and reached under it to smooth down ruffled feathers, or at least, those that he could reach. What he'd really like to do was stretch them out, but Eldrick would likely take away his dessert at dinner tonight if he so blatantly disobeyed the man's most stern command. So heaving a sigh, he nibbled about the rainbow-colored edges of the candy that he'd been bribed into silence with, and proceeded to pretend, at least, that there wasn't a great bit of shouting going on in the establishment behind him, or at least...any sort of chaos that involved anyone he knew. Huh, and Eldrick had been worried about his behavior. An irony, that.
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Posted: Fri Feb 04, 2011 6:44 am
"Ah..." It hurt.
The feeling was one of light headedness and distance, almost separated from himself as he forced one heavy boot in front of the other. The Hraapea was by no means tall, standing at an intimidatingly average 5'11", although the uniform he wore added much more to his aura than the great wings on his back. Away from Nikolai and further still from any means of companionship, he had been wandering alone, at last making it into town with not a single penny in his pocket. It was easy to scavenge and gather up simple meals of fruits and berries in the wilderness, but among well paved roads and bustling crowds, there was not a single scrap of free food to be seen.
Then again, it might help if he took off his blindfold.
Lips twitching into a sardonic smile, one pale hand reached up to tug at the dark fabric over his eyes with a slow exhale, relying heavily on the momentum of his motions to keep on walking down the rough stone path. Ever since he had entered town, he was aware that he was out of place. If his large wings didn't attract attention, then his blindfold might have-- failing that, perhaps the vast quantity of blood that soaked into his monochrome clothing would have been a head turner. All in all, he was a sight to behold, pathetic as it were, and it was a miracle he wasn't arrested on the spot for suspicious activity. Then again, it could be that Azriel was actually smart enough to avoid the soldiers, easily defaulting into the habit Nikolai, as a self respecting mercenary, often took. Avoid people if possible and take the quieter routes-- one couldn't be suspicious if they couldn't be seen, right?
"...."
Wings ruffling uncertainly, it wasn't until he was a mere ten feet from Alasdair that he became aware of someone else in the vicinity. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought, as the hraapea took a minute to surface from his disoriented state, wondering how he could have missed such a brazen display-- especially with the noises coming inside what he could smell was a confectionery shop.
The child couldn't have been much older than twelve from his aura-- it wasn't very intimidating, but there was something about Alasdair that struck a chord with the dark male. Something... Familiar. Unfortunately, the lyrebird was unable to sense the hidden wings just yet, mainly due to the jacket restricting the sound of movement. In any case, what was the kid doing? It probably wasn't any of Azriel's business, but the stern tones piqued his curiosity. Standing where he had come to a stop, caked in grit and blood with eyes covered under a heavy blindfold, he faced the gyrfalcon, wings subconsciously lifting to signify his sudden intrigue but no immediately approaching.
Thankfully, no one was around to call the guards and charge him with motivated kidnapping.
Yet.
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Posted: Fri Feb 04, 2011 11:14 am
Most people would likely have been intimidated by Azriel's appearance indeed, despite his height, if naught else, he looked as though he'd just been out hunting, and not the peaceful and comparatively nonviolent kind either. Mind, Alasdair was a touch different than most people, and who tended to act contrary to the natures of most children in a plethora of instances. This, naturally, just happened to be one of them...for it was not the other's disheveled appearance, or even the spattering of questionable debris about his person that held the boy's attention. Instead, it was the wings that first drew the gaze of the gyrfalcon's good eye, which, though wary, was more piqued with curiosity than any superfluous, panicked emotion. The bit of sugared frippery that he had in his hand was slowly lowered, as his priorities shifted, rather as they ought when another of his kind made their appearance.
"You have wings..." He commented quietly, his expression rather placid, considering the situation, as his upturned face regarded the taller male. "..I think that makes you like me." There was another annoyed rearrangement of feathers, who were lamenting their rather vexatious binding apparatus. This was the first male he'd seen, that was rather obviously his elder, and that in and of itself would hold the boy's attention. Whilst the ladies had been nice enough, this fellow...was a creature unto himself, most unlike Ana and Amelia in both bearing and appearance. Alasdair had a certain thirst for knowledge, and as many questions had been posed in his head, most of them without any foreseeable resolution, Azriel's sudden entrance into this scenario seemed almost a godsend.
"I'm Alasdair." The next logical step seemed to be an introduction, despite the almost stony silence from intriguing Hraapea that was staring at him so fixedly through the dark fabric. Ah, and the youth had thought himself rather unfortunate with merely an eyepatch, he could not fathom what sort of purpose that blindfold held for the being before him. There were quite a few queries that he would like to heave this one's way, though he rather supposed a few of them wouldn't be terribly polite, such as asking why he looked as though he'd been dragged down a country road and then chucked into a ditch to rot for a while.
Yes, that would probably be touch rude.
"Who does that make you?" His words never rose in pitch, as he saw no need for alarm, nor did he wish to draw the attention of the scuffling adults in the shop behind, as Eldrick would probably behave in a manner completely disproportionate to the actual situation.
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