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Post by FAUN NOUVELLE on Aug 21, 2011 4:30:11 GMT -5
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The house was little more than a hut. The cracked stone floor was strewn with straw though on the second level they had a few worn carpets on wooden floors. The thatched roof sometimes held rabbit-mice but they weren't nearly as bad as the rats that haunted the market alleys. Light filtered through the tiny window in the wall of her bedroom. A old hand stitched quilt of faded different coloured fabrics. That quilt was made by her, now dead, gypsy mother. Every possession in this house was used but loved. Repaired meticulously by hand. The only occupant at the moment was a girl. She had long wild golden hair and fierce gray blue eyes that saw any spec of dirt in her home as an opponent to be destroyed. She'd been up since sunrise cleaning, washing cloths and pottery, dishes, sweeping out the dog house and getting dressed. It was seven o'clock in the morning. She was ready.
She grab her lunch for the day, a loft of bread, cheese and a tomato all wrapped up neatly in a piece of cloth and shoved into a canvas messenger bag. She had her pencil and paper, some other supplies. Check, ok, lock the door. A sharp whistle summoned the old hunting dog Theas. He trod obediently to her side, received a biscuit and a rub down.
"Keep the house safe for me, Theas." She murmured scratching behind his ear. He woofed an affirmative before his ears turned back and he whined at her. She turned on her hell in time to see the neighborhood boys rounding the corner. They were shouting and stabbing at each other with wooden swords but, due to some unknown collective boy intuition, immediately spotted her and charged with rowdy catcalls, "Troll! Get her!"
"Come on Princess fight me!" "Get OUT of the way George she's obviously a wild ignus demon-" "Let me duel you Faun last time wasn't fair!"
She sighed, hand lashing out to grab her own wooden sword leaning by the door. It was a good sword, carved by her father and had beaten many a boys brains in. That didn't stop them from advancing on her. She lifted the sword high with a steady arm, "Back you evil curs! I'm adventuring ALONE today I need you naught," She slashed the sword through the air a couple of times for emphasis. The boys continued shouting and waving their own wooden weapons until the heavily pregnant lady next door trundled out.
"What are you foul little brats doing at this time of the morning?!" She screeched, "Be off with you noisy little beasts." The woman shook her tiny fists and groped for a nearby broom.
"Argh swamp banshee!" The boys cried, some made holy crosses with their fingers like they were trying to ward her off. Faun used the distraction to bail around the opposite side of the house. Sword still in hand and running like a wild deer through the housing commons. She cackled, exhilarated by the cold air racing through her lungs and blonde hair waving behind her like a shining banner. She leaped, dived and weaved between busy throngs of people going about daily business. Some cursed her but others cried, "Run little deer!" in her wake. Everyone knew Faun, she was the neighborhood's daughter. After her mother passed away and her father stayed busy for weeks on end in the mines, the neighbors pitched in. A loaf of bread here. Some old cloths there. She made sure to repay them all in kind with hard work, mopping, babysitting, anything. She was strong, sun tanned and fast on her feet. The boys didn't stand a chance. What chance did a dragon have resisting her? She could do it. She could raise a dragon. It was her last year to try and get a spot. Fifteen, she was almost too old. There HAD to be an egg out there that as hers. She could feel it as surely as she could feel the hard packed earth beneath her feet. The blood pounding in her ears.
The silhouettes of blue mountains loomed in the distance but they held nothing on the stone magnificence of the castle. It was the center of her world, where she wanted to be the most. She didn't often go in there. He father warned her of people snatchers and whatever but she knew a few key places. One of which was the meadow. Now being carved into a mountain with everything smooshed together in a highly populated city there wasn't a lot of grassy areas. In fact they were rare. But the meadow was her secret place and as secret places go, it wasn't easy to get to. You had to climb along the castle's outer walls, fancy rich houses on your left, a thousand foot drop on your left. Lucky she wasn't afraid of heights but flying would have been easier. Several bulwarks along the curtain wall was a flat piece of earth outside the wall. It was covered in fine green grass and an ancient old tree that clung to the wall stones. Faun swung down the gnarly old tree to land on the balls of her feet. She kicked off her thin leather boots so the grass could tickled between her toes. The meadow was a bastion of green in an otherwise gray city. It was a dead drop on every side into the mountainous valleys with the castle wall at it's back which was why it was so secluded. As far as Faun knew no one ever came here. It was her perch and safe place. The girl dropped onto the grass and rolled, giggling over the tiny yellow bellflowers and purple veilbloom. The thrummed of the city behind her was always oddly quietened out here but it was soothing too. The heartbeat of Atlerion.
Faun reached back to dig through her messenger bag to retrieve the pencil and paper. A small flat piece of wood ensure she didn't stab through the paper. Not very impressive if the dragons choosing guys read her introduction letter on a holey piece of paper...
There's a lot to keep you holding on forever....
Whatever gets you through today
Ooc 1009 words.
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