http://www.rjmwhittaker.com/indent.gifWell well well.. it would appear that her kindred spirit was making herself rather at home in her comrade's personal space. Just because she couldn't hear the words that were being spoken didn't mean she didn't understand the language of one's body, and the wild girl's was a tale as old as life itself. As she swallowed the last of her meal, she couldn't help but feel a pane of jealously deep within her heart, but she quickly closed her eyes and forced the foolish notions back. Love and affection were luxuries one such as herself could not afford, for her's was a life of self-imposed solitude away from the pains and fears of the civilized world. All it served to do was bring suffering to all who fell into love's sweet embrace, for eventually all would have to stand back and watch helplessly as the lives of their fellows were claimed, one by one, in one fashion or another. No, this ranger would not allow herself to feel such terrors.. or at least she tried convincing herself as much. As hardened as her heart may have appeared to have been, it was just as delicate as any fair maiden's, easily crushed and shattered and torn asunder by those whom had wronged her in the past. Opening her eyes revealed a flame of anger ignited within her sight, desiring nothing more than wayward destruction at everything around her.
http://www.rjmwhittaker.com/indent.gifFortunately for her she was getting better at calming her inner dæmons, as she was at beginning to accept her weak-willed spirit. She would not love nor be loved, and would make her heart like stone to all those whom tried to pierce it with their warm smiles and good intentions. It was the cowards way out, she understood this better than anyone but, for the moment, she saw no better way of living her life other than alone. Turning her attention back to those at the table, she finally became aware of the little brawl that had broken out amongst the other patrons only moments ago, threatening to disturb the peace that had only just now begun to form again. It was then that she saw a most amazing feat; the hooded woman whom had had her arms crossed the majority of the time had caught one of the vagabonds who had nearly fallen upon their table, only to have to prove to him the folly of his ways. The beasts of the wilderness were certainly tough in their own right, but their challenge was in their superior strength and resiliency; yet here was one who seemingly possessed not only these things but also showed tremendous skill in the ways of the warrior. The ranger's heart felt ready to burst as her muscles tensed, contemplating how poorly she herself would do against one who's power appeared to be far beyond her own. Of course she could stay her hand and let her curiosity wane, but where else could she test her own might and strengthen her fragile spirit?
http://www.rjmwhittaker.com/indent.gifIn a poor attempt to settle her nerves, she drew forth a strip of parchment and a small bag of fresh pipeweed; pouring some of the contents onto the surface of the papyrus she then rolled it up and held one end against the soft flame of a nearby candle, bring the other to her mouth as she took in a long drag. In the back of her head came that same old voice that told her she should stop doing this, but it was the only thing in this room that could provide her with some taste of happiness.
http://www.rjmwhittaker.com/indent.gifFortunately for her she was getting better at calming her inner dæmons, as she was at beginning to accept her weak-willed spirit. She would not love nor be loved, and would make her heart like stone to all those whom tried to pierce it with their warm smiles and good intentions. It was the cowards way out, she understood this better than anyone but, for the moment, she saw no better way of living her life other than alone. Turning her attention back to those at the table, she finally became aware of the little brawl that had broken out amongst the other patrons only moments ago, threatening to disturb the peace that had only just now begun to form again. It was then that she saw a most amazing feat; the hooded woman whom had had her arms crossed the majority of the time had caught one of the vagabonds who had nearly fallen upon their table, only to have to prove to him the folly of his ways. The beasts of the wilderness were certainly tough in their own right, but their challenge was in their superior strength and resiliency; yet here was one who seemingly possessed not only these things but also showed tremendous skill in the ways of the warrior. The ranger's heart felt ready to burst as her muscles tensed, contemplating how poorly she herself would do against one who's power appeared to be far beyond her own. Of course she could stay her hand and let her curiosity wane, but where else could she test her own might and strengthen her fragile spirit?
http://www.rjmwhittaker.com/indent.gifIn a poor attempt to settle her nerves, she drew forth a strip of parchment and a small bag of fresh pipeweed; pouring some of the contents onto the surface of the papyrus she then rolled it up and held one end against the soft flame of a nearby candle, bring the other to her mouth as she took in a long drag. In the back of her head came that same old voice that told her she should stop doing this, but it was the only thing in this room that could provide her with some taste of happiness.