She smiles, but eyes show more than words oft tell or so it said. At least she speaks directly, a rare occurance in the life of one as travled as myself
He sighed, and mulled over her words thoughtfully with some respect.
Quote:
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...before the storms of life drive you on.
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Aye, the storms of life. But my storm is inside me; no external forces or purposes power me forward, I am driven by my own lack of design. She sees this clearer than most. A smile has many meanings or I am a fool. Which I am not.
"Of course, m'lady."
He returned her smile in kind, but his eyes flashed slightly.
I keep myself in check as I desire, was the silent reaction in his face.
Yet here I will be as an old man by the fireplace, and let my mind wanter from my body. Then I will depart on my ways for a place where my skills are needed. Much talk is abroad of strange folk these days, and the birds and the trees speak as clearly to me as any man can. Mayhaps I will go to the Rangers, for they understand me better than most and always have use for a tracker or swordsman. They have accepted me in the past.
He sat again in silence like a great dark statue, watching his shadow dance in the flames as dark shadows danced in his heart.
He looked up slightly to notice the door open and a dwarf walked in.
Ah, a dwarf. We shall see how the elves keep themselves 'in check.' A fool to carry a weapon openly. He grinned slightly, and then refocused his attention on filling his pipe. Lighting it, he watched the smoke curl above his head and rise towards the ceiling.
Smoke rises. A symbol of death. To many times...
[ January 07, 2003: Message edited by: Carrūn ]