[pnpgm] What a delightful morning

[John Haight]

   The newcomer's eye-roll caught Arawn's insightful attention, her derision rolling like waves for the empath to feel. His mind shot back to the night of the battle, when her summoning went awry, her derision thinly veiled that night. Contempt, anger, fear, impulse, insecurity... intense emotions roiled within her, multiplying and feeding on themselves. He had seen enough in his time, heard a portion of her own story, and gauged from her bearing enough to sense that at the root of this was pain.

   It was a poison that threatened to consume the soul and a difficult one to remove - in a lifetime of disappointment only pain was a constant, a twisted security-blanket that smothered those wrapped within. Others might offer tools, friendship or love but only the woman could save herself, if she so chose and then struggle to face the demons of her past.


   Some among the group, such as Fremea, had carried that burden, but had, and continued, to work on their being. Perhaps it would be one of them that might reach her, with whom she might relate and connect. And in time he might even be able to share the little things he had learned as well but for now their time together was still short and that night likely a poor time for such things. So for now he gave her a glance and a knowing smile before turning his attention elsewhere.

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From: pnpgm <pnpgm-bounces at list.powersandperils.org> on behalf of d kerr <megumimika at gmail.com>
Sent: Saturday, January 21, 2017 9:44 PM
To: pnpgm at list.powersandperils.org
Subject: [pnpgm] What a delightful morning

Maelorna watches the fight with little interest, the ringing sound of metal upon metal, the tang of blood in the cold air gave her even less enjoyment.  Her interest lies more in watching those about her.  The flesh on display was almost a heady bouquet to her senses.  While the language was still as alien to her as the previous night, she didn't care and was able to ignore it.

At hearing Z'leyra's response to Arawn's question, she rolls her eyes and fights the urge to give a derisive snort.  While she understood the desire to worship something greater than one's self, Maelorna found little use in pleading or begging for what to her would be denied.

'Ooh, how about that one?' the voice, the one thing she didn't want to hear at the moment makes her wince, 'you promised, a town or city' it demanded.  'Well if not that one, how about that one?' the voice pleads, 'you promised, once we got to a town or village.' it demands.  She whispers to herself in desperation, "No, shut.. shut up now.  This isn't a city or a town." and pulls the cowl of her cloak closer over her head to hide her face, finding her enjoyment being near the throng of people less than desirable, and she starts to look for one of her companions, if only to use their familiarity and closeness to keep her from doing something stupid, as she gave her word.
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