Post by Boom and Lockjaw on Aug 4, 2014 19:07:52 GMT 1
Time and Date:: Early winter morning, cold and still mostly dark.
Weather:: Clear, cold, damp, windless.
Previous Threads?:: None to speak of.
The morning air was chilly, and it was more dark than light outside as of yet. There wasn't even the lick of a breeze, and the perfectly still air was somehow more chilling without it. It was wet, of course and the smell of the air was nothing more defining than ice and the beginning scents of fresh-made bread and other foods coming from the warming den of The Great Hall.
It was with great slouching and grumping and the wrappings of warm furs that had the lovely grumpus known as Boom slouched over one of the many stone benches in The Great Hall. Her eyes were still clouded over with sleep, and her limbs were folded in over themselves and into the fur for comfort. Her head was laying side ways against the chilled stone, giving a rather lackluster and zombie-like stare to her nearby cousin Bloodswift.
“So, where’s mom? Isn’t the hot mead usually delivered in person?” This was from Boom, staring up at her cousin who had had curled up in the benchseat next to hers, balancing his helmet, a textbook on dragons, and her father’s as-yet-unread weapon's blueprints in his lap.
“Helping get Kenna's meal before she gets here. She’s probably gone completely overboard with the breakfast menu for today.” He replied matter-of-factly. “Of course, auntie has been waiting for this moment her entire life… Having a daughter to dote on.”
Boom jostled her cousin with an elbow, scowling. “Wow, not like she doesn't already have one. It's not like I'm about to announce I am a man."
"You're as good as." Bloodswift sang out, kicking his legs under the table. "I think she was bringing Kenna some of that ore that came in the other day, too. It was the iron ore you were looking at, wasn't it?"
Boom's hand banged down on the table, sending drink glasses rattling and silverware bouncing on the stone surface. "If you really want to talk about my mother's betrayal over breakfast, you can discuss it without me!”
Quickly afterwards she slumped again, almost boneless over the table with a very nondescript grunt. "My mead is supposed to be here first. I'm her princess, damn it."
But it was always Kenna first, the wench.
Weather:: Clear, cold, damp, windless.
Previous Threads?:: None to speak of.
The morning air was chilly, and it was more dark than light outside as of yet. There wasn't even the lick of a breeze, and the perfectly still air was somehow more chilling without it. It was wet, of course and the smell of the air was nothing more defining than ice and the beginning scents of fresh-made bread and other foods coming from the warming den of The Great Hall.
It was with great slouching and grumping and the wrappings of warm furs that had the lovely grumpus known as Boom slouched over one of the many stone benches in The Great Hall. Her eyes were still clouded over with sleep, and her limbs were folded in over themselves and into the fur for comfort. Her head was laying side ways against the chilled stone, giving a rather lackluster and zombie-like stare to her nearby cousin Bloodswift.
“So, where’s mom? Isn’t the hot mead usually delivered in person?” This was from Boom, staring up at her cousin who had had curled up in the benchseat next to hers, balancing his helmet, a textbook on dragons, and her father’s as-yet-unread weapon's blueprints in his lap.
“Helping get Kenna's meal before she gets here. She’s probably gone completely overboard with the breakfast menu for today.” He replied matter-of-factly. “Of course, auntie has been waiting for this moment her entire life… Having a daughter to dote on.”
Boom jostled her cousin with an elbow, scowling. “Wow, not like she doesn't already have one. It's not like I'm about to announce I am a man."
"You're as good as." Bloodswift sang out, kicking his legs under the table. "I think she was bringing Kenna some of that ore that came in the other day, too. It was the iron ore you were looking at, wasn't it?"
Boom's hand banged down on the table, sending drink glasses rattling and silverware bouncing on the stone surface. "If you really want to talk about my mother's betrayal over breakfast, you can discuss it without me!”
Quickly afterwards she slumped again, almost boneless over the table with a very nondescript grunt. "My mead is supposed to be here first. I'm her princess, damn it."
But it was always Kenna first, the wench.