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Old 04-04-2006, 10:16 AM   #185
Folwren
Messenger of Hope
 
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Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States.
Posts: 5,228
Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Thornden didn’t like the way Léof refused help. He was absolutely certain that the boy’s foot had to be killing him, if it was as bad as Eodwine had said the limp had been, and having heard what Gárwine had to say about it, he was sure that the injury was worse than Léof made it out to be. Æðel seemed to be of his same mind set, for she suddenly stepped out from behind them. Léod had not seen her before and he looked up at her with surprise as she spoke.

“Who said anything about going anywhere?” she asked. “Here is as good a place as any!” She looked at Thornden and Gárwine pointedly and nodded her head towards Léof. They understood and stepped forward, intending business. Léof sent her a hurt look and dropped the horse’s foot. The gelding immediately stepped away from him and sidled up against the aisle wall where he could watch matters unfold. Léof was left standing alone in the middle of the aisle.

“Come on, Léof, we don’t want to force you,” Thornden said. “But Eodwine gave clear orders that your foot was to be examined and bandaged as necessary.”

“Well, it’s not necessary,” Léof replied, and Thornden regretted his use of the word. He also was annoyed. Léof looked like he wanted to bolt, and Thornden was absolutely certain that if his foot had been under no necessity of being looked after, he would have. Instead, he stood still, though he was tense and rigid. Clearly he wasn’t about to be dragged off easily.

Thornden and Gárwine reached out together and each took hold of one arm. Léof pulled back and twisted and turned in attempt to get free, but he wouldn’t have had much of a chance of escape had only one of them been sent, but with the two of them, his cause was hopeless. There was a bout of pulling and tugging, twisting and turning as Léof put all that he could into trying to get their hands off him.

Thornden kept a strong grip on his arm, one hand above the elbow, the other holding his wrist. It wasn’t an overtly simple thing to keep a hold on him as he struggled and pitched every which way. Thornden thought to himself as he began to pull him towards a bench to sit that it was probably a good thing that his foot was hurt or else there would be some flying boots to add in the fight for freedom.

They fairly dragged him away from where the horse stood to a bench against the other wall, and there they shoved him down and held him firmly. As soon as he was seated he ceased to struggle, though Thornden felt him still tense beneath his hands.

“Now,” he said, slowly relaxing his hold and taking a small step away, ready to spring should Léof try to bolt, “are you going to take your own boot off, or shall I do it for you?”
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