Pyralian Clammer(Harry Potter b/c I feel like it)
Apr 24, 2013 15:25:31 GMT -5
Post by Iris Lulane on Apr 24, 2013 15:25:31 GMT -5
The spring air was warming up, though not uncomfortably so. The only thing that was a slight nuisance was the constant layer of dust in the air from the training cavalry in the arena furthest from the courtyard. Occasionally a nice breeze would disperse the dusty fog, but more often than not, it was something one simply had to deal with. The archers were practicing tactical in the woods surrounding the castle and not scheduled back until well near dusk, which meant a certain pair of red-gold headed hoodlums were loose.
The twins, like the rest of the castle brood, were given free run of the grounds under some very specific limitations: no leaving the grounds, especially into the woods without an adult, and not getting into the way or getting hurt. Thus far, they had complied very well, safe for the one time Rhiann took a ride on her mother’s horse through the woods to the Lake and scared her father stiff. And currently, they were minding quite well. Mostly.
Gavin was sword fighting with a large branch against a few other boys his age(while avoiding his cousin Morgan who would indeed lie him out), and his sister had been distracted from attempting to scale Rusher and had switched her efforts over to rooting through the heavy trunk of her mothers’ belongings that had been moved from the lady knight’s home to the cavalry’s storage building for safer keeping near the castle. Rhiann had plopped herself down after expending most of her energy opening the heavy oaken lid, and was looking at the old tunics and stips of leather for splints and saddle repairs, mail bit and other odds and ends stored in the great thing.
She’d always held a fascination with her mother and even claimed that she was sung lullabies to sleep by her now and again. This had been painful enough to hear once, and her father had continually reminded her that she must be hearing another woman in the castle singing, and she’d stopped pleading her case at the look in his crystal blue eyes. She hated seeing him sad. Which was why she was entertaining herself while he was away, so that way when he came home all her adventures would be done and she could give him a hug and make him smile.
That was, until a rumbling clatter arose from the other side of the chest. On her feet in an instant, Rhiann’s bright blue eyes were locked on the edge of the chest. Slowly, she crept forward, small wooden sword made for her by her uncle Rawyn in her hand, muscles taut. The rattle grew louder, and louder until finally is just stopped once she rounded the chest. Rhiann frowned her disapproval when all she saw was a collection of heavy iron pots and skillets that were to be used for the cavalry if they ever campaigned. Lowering her sword in a slightly let down fashion, she leaned forward to inspect one particularly large pot which seemed interestingly unused and larger than the others. Suspiciously, the toddler extended the tiny practice sword and tapped the side of the pot roughly, twice.
The most uproarious response was given. The pot bounced angrily on its tiny feet, lid rattling with indignation. Rhiann gave a scream of surprise and fright and swung so hard with her tiny sword she ended herself on her bottom after sending the lid of the pot skittering on the floor. If it could have, the pot would have retaliated with a war cry but as it was, it just hopped up and down more heatedly and wobbled towards her and its missing lid. Rhiann scrambled backwards, eyes wide and gave another yelp of surprise and fear. She was far too busy trying to crab-crawl to freedom and away from whatever that thing was than to worry that she’d more than likely gotten the entire training grounds attention.
The twins, like the rest of the castle brood, were given free run of the grounds under some very specific limitations: no leaving the grounds, especially into the woods without an adult, and not getting into the way or getting hurt. Thus far, they had complied very well, safe for the one time Rhiann took a ride on her mother’s horse through the woods to the Lake and scared her father stiff. And currently, they were minding quite well. Mostly.
Gavin was sword fighting with a large branch against a few other boys his age(while avoiding his cousin Morgan who would indeed lie him out), and his sister had been distracted from attempting to scale Rusher and had switched her efforts over to rooting through the heavy trunk of her mothers’ belongings that had been moved from the lady knight’s home to the cavalry’s storage building for safer keeping near the castle. Rhiann had plopped herself down after expending most of her energy opening the heavy oaken lid, and was looking at the old tunics and stips of leather for splints and saddle repairs, mail bit and other odds and ends stored in the great thing.
She’d always held a fascination with her mother and even claimed that she was sung lullabies to sleep by her now and again. This had been painful enough to hear once, and her father had continually reminded her that she must be hearing another woman in the castle singing, and she’d stopped pleading her case at the look in his crystal blue eyes. She hated seeing him sad. Which was why she was entertaining herself while he was away, so that way when he came home all her adventures would be done and she could give him a hug and make him smile.
That was, until a rumbling clatter arose from the other side of the chest. On her feet in an instant, Rhiann’s bright blue eyes were locked on the edge of the chest. Slowly, she crept forward, small wooden sword made for her by her uncle Rawyn in her hand, muscles taut. The rattle grew louder, and louder until finally is just stopped once she rounded the chest. Rhiann frowned her disapproval when all she saw was a collection of heavy iron pots and skillets that were to be used for the cavalry if they ever campaigned. Lowering her sword in a slightly let down fashion, she leaned forward to inspect one particularly large pot which seemed interestingly unused and larger than the others. Suspiciously, the toddler extended the tiny practice sword and tapped the side of the pot roughly, twice.
The most uproarious response was given. The pot bounced angrily on its tiny feet, lid rattling with indignation. Rhiann gave a scream of surprise and fright and swung so hard with her tiny sword she ended herself on her bottom after sending the lid of the pot skittering on the floor. If it could have, the pot would have retaliated with a war cry but as it was, it just hopped up and down more heatedly and wobbled towards her and its missing lid. Rhiann scrambled backwards, eyes wide and gave another yelp of surprise and fear. She was far too busy trying to crab-crawl to freedom and away from whatever that thing was than to worry that she’d more than likely gotten the entire training grounds attention.
