An Afternoon Break (Pogue and Emsrocks)
Dec 8, 2013 15:50:28 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2013 15:50:28 GMT -5
Speaking
Text
Thoughts
Hammil's stormy grey-blue eyes seemed to almost wander as he walked through the middle of the district, a large amount of his father's money in his hand as he made his weekly trip to the market in order to get food for his family. He'd stopped bringing his mother with him weeks ago. The people here didn't seem to understand what was wrong with her. Or, at least, the younger generation didn't. He'd walk through the square, his arm hooked with his mother's as she rambled on about random things. People would stare, they'd move out of the way much like the people did when a person was reaped. His mother had eyes that seemed to stare through you instead of at you, and he had to admit it didn't help much when he was trying to buy things from the stand-owners here. I miss her too much A sudden sadness seems to wash over him as he stops in front of a stand that is selling loaves of bread, their color tinted with a light green as a result of the seaweed in it.
He must have been standing there for quite a while, for before he knew it the stand-owner was calling his name, his tone annoyed. "Hey! You gonna just stand there or are you going to buy something? You do this a lot more than i'd like, Hammil." Hammil's eyes seemed to refocus, a wavering to them as he looked up at the man. "Right... Sorry. Three loaves please, Kestrel." Hammil said, more mumbled if anything. The man nodded once, giving Hammil an odd look for a moment before handing him the bread and shooing him away.
Hammil merely nodded in thanks, before he continued on to go to another stand. In exactly one hour he was to be back at his house and ready for training with their private instructor. He had an hour to himself. To be alone. To do whatever he wanted.
Text
Thoughts
Hammil's stormy grey-blue eyes seemed to almost wander as he walked through the middle of the district, a large amount of his father's money in his hand as he made his weekly trip to the market in order to get food for his family. He'd stopped bringing his mother with him weeks ago. The people here didn't seem to understand what was wrong with her. Or, at least, the younger generation didn't. He'd walk through the square, his arm hooked with his mother's as she rambled on about random things. People would stare, they'd move out of the way much like the people did when a person was reaped. His mother had eyes that seemed to stare through you instead of at you, and he had to admit it didn't help much when he was trying to buy things from the stand-owners here. I miss her too much A sudden sadness seems to wash over him as he stops in front of a stand that is selling loaves of bread, their color tinted with a light green as a result of the seaweed in it.
He must have been standing there for quite a while, for before he knew it the stand-owner was calling his name, his tone annoyed. "Hey! You gonna just stand there or are you going to buy something? You do this a lot more than i'd like, Hammil." Hammil's eyes seemed to refocus, a wavering to them as he looked up at the man. "Right... Sorry. Three loaves please, Kestrel." Hammil said, more mumbled if anything. The man nodded once, giving Hammil an odd look for a moment before handing him the bread and shooing him away.
Hammil merely nodded in thanks, before he continued on to go to another stand. In exactly one hour he was to be back at his house and ready for training with their private instructor. He had an hour to himself. To be alone. To do whatever he wanted.