#awsheets

PROMPTS  FOR  A  LITTLE  JEALOUSY

       ❝  Well,  that's  .  .  .  it  was  a  hypothetical  question,  actually  .  .  .  ❞       The  fey  began  to  flounder  after  throwing  the  possibility  of  Durafein  liking  her  a  little  more  than  just  a  companion.  He  sounded  just  a  tad  defensive,  and  all  that  over  helping  Gale   (  you  know,  the  other  wizard  in  their  group  )   with  sorting  out  his  stuff  last  night.

       ❝  Crushes  are  nice   &   such.  I  have  them  too.  Strawberries,  for  example.  ❞       Strong  feelings  do  not  equal  a  romantic  interest.  A  thing  the  hexblood  has  yet  to  figure  out.

BAG  OF  BONES   ;   𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

                       ╰┈➤   @awsheets

▊ &&.  Shes glaring at him from across the camp. It seems she had a dream that he rejected her and shes mad about it.

        SHE'S POUTING, he thinks. As if her glower weren't sharp enough to kill. Puck has always found it endearing. Today, however, he notices that such an angry expression has been aimed mostly at himself.

        Very not good.

He isn't proud of this, but Puck does avoid Iymkiira for part of the day. He can't remember what he could have possibly done - which means it must have been horrible. He's always at his worst when he forgets what he's done.

Eventually, he can't take it anymore, & he approaches her with his tail between his legs. ❝ Have I done something wrong ？❞

Dinin flicked his eyes up to Durafein, flat expression on his face as he continued to clean his blade. So he wanted to spar, did he? Not many wizards were interested in such combat. In fact, he found that most wizards held a complete distain for the grace and power of a hand-held weapon.

But Durafein was not like most wizards, and Dinin would be lying if he didn't admit to missing his days as master of Melee-Magthere. He missed sparring with the students, feeling a sense of pride when one of them managed to land a hit on him. It was a rare moment in his life where he didn't feel as though he was in constant competition with everyone around him—he was supposed to be making talented warriors. (Of course, until his fellow master reminded him of the very real possibility of scimitars in his spine).

𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛.

"𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 ?" 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚞𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠-𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜.

𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚌, 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗. "𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖." 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜. "𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕; 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚜." 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌.

"𝙳𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.." 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚠𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚜.

"𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚛." 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙷𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝-𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜.

𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙰 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑. “𝚈𝚎𝚜, 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗.” 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎. 𝙰 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝙳𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗. “𝙷𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛.” 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎. “𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.” 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 “𝙷𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚠𝚜.” 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍.

@awsheets spoke: “I don’t forgive. I don’t forget. I wait.” - iymkiira

⚔︎ ▍ Dark / Villainous ▍ ♪

How...brooding. And so very Underdark of her to say. Faenethra may look like a drow, but she rejected practically all ideals of her people. Maybe she was just stubborn that way... Regardless, while 'forgiveness' wasn't quite so easy for Faenethra to give, neither was she interested in simply waiting.

Honestly, one can only brood so much before it was self-detrimental. How did anyone have time for all of that waiting?

" Wait...for what, exactly? " Faenethra questioned with a raise of her pale brow. " Do you think the wrongs they've wrought upon you would eventually be returned? On their own? If someone has wronged you so terribly that you wish retribution upon them, how is waiting going to help? Just do it yourself. Or maybe the outcome you're seeking just isn't worth it. "

There was only a moment of confusion as he looked at the mage. Than he tilted his head to the side. A knowing smirk touch his obsidian lips and Drizzt leaned against the counter he had been making kaffee at. He nodded "Never met--" he said "Not a chance I know you at all Durafein."

“ why ? ” not mocking, not bubbling with annoyance, but overflowing with confusion. “ i don’t know where i’m going, or what i will face. i wander. i just. . . wander. ”

not that they mind the open road and aimless steps, but when there’s two. . .

it could be good. it could end in a disaster. it could last for less than a week when he realizes just how dull they are.