Time to meander me thinks [Tom]

[*]

His gentle words rocked me to sleep that night. I fell asleep on the couch in the living room listening to him tell me about his work in the woods. How he always has the same thing to report. The trees are fallen, shaved, and then sent off for further production work. Hardly a night ever goes by without his deep voice calming my mind. How I love listening to my father. He's all I've ever had since the female parent is no where to be. At times, I wonder where she ran off to or what she may be doing that's so much more important than my own well being. From my father's own mouth his explanation is simply this, that she didn't deserve us.

I believe him.

This morning seemed different in a number of ways. He left to me sleep on the couch, with the blanket that magically appeared to keep me warm. His normal routine corrupted without even a goodbye and the absence of his attempt to wake me. I can only wonder where he is at, this isn't like him? The question lingers in my mind and I find myself in search of clothes and an answer to this puzzling conquest.

He has to be at work already and woke up late. That's the only way I can think that he would forget about me. I'm determined to keep hold of the axe in my hands. It swings by my legs, sheathed by the protective sleeve. It taps against my calf on one step and then the knee a moment later. It becomes such a routine that the presence of the path's location brings me to a new area yet to be explored by my own wanderings.

Curiosity befriends my every will and the trees around are so inviting that my next project begins to project themselves to me. The large oak to my left would make a nice headboard for someone's sleeping quarters or the smaller one just feet from it would be a beautiful mirror frame. My father needs to see this. These trees are much more imaginative then the dull ones at the base.

I glance to the left, noticing the path where I came from and then when I peek back to the trees calling to me, that's when I notice the building - the shop of sorts off in the distance a little ways off. I squint to see better, taking notice of the quaint little place in the middle of nowhere. How long had this place existed and I never happened upon it before?

I walk cautiously to the stowaway place. My mind reels with excitement but also the words of my father telling me to turn back. Why should I listen to him today when he left me to oversleep? Up to the door I walk and my knuckles rap lightly on the door.

Callico Keystone

[Tom]

Gilmore Forsàidh

The sun rises through the window in the corner as he tosses himself over the edge of his bed. Sheets strewn from a restless night of dreams with Fate giving him signs of something new. Something different was going to happen on this day. As he rises, the window blows open and the fresh air wakes his body. Fingers splayed out on wooden rails as his mind wanders to the fact that today was meant to be their day off from work. Doors closed, sleeping in meant to be had, and plenty of rituals to be done in order to begin his relaxing day, but as always, Fate always had something new waiting for him.

The sound of wood and knuckles fills his ears as he yawns from restlessness that seems to not disappear from his face. Bed head sticking up, even though morning is almost gone. Fingers rub at his eyes until he's able to process his own thoughts before something resides through him. Energy that feels different. Something in his chest that builds up in a warm glow as he can feel his own energy getting pelted with something blue that glitters like tears on a grieving face. A whisper falling from his lips as he approaches the door.

"Intriguing."

Fingers wrapped tightly around the small piece of agate around his neck for protection. As the door creaks with his own doing, he gives the person a glance. The pelting of ice resides in his skin as the air grows cold and he can feel the cry of pain coming from somewhere in her, but it's not her. There's an echo of fire there that burns his hair. Immolation of a former life. A past life that still has energy residual from that time on her skin. Fate was never wrong. Destiny ties the two of them together now and all he can do is give a friendly, but tired smile as he speaks.

"Welcome. Looks like Fate and Destiny brought you here for a reason. Come inside! We have lots to do!"

The chill of morning slowly burning off of him as his hair burns just being around this girl. A friendly smile on his face as he opens the door just a bit more. Realization strikes him all of a sudden at the rudeness he just committed. Fingers splayed on wooden door as he laughs to himself before he looks to see if anyone else was brought to him or if they could see his rudeness. Hand moves in front of himself as he gives her a full grin and a polite greeting.

"Sorry forgive me! I forgot to introduce myself in my excitement. Gilmore. Gilmore Forsàidh, magic and energy extraordinaire. I work at this little shop here in the woods. Fate and Destiny brought you here for a reason. I think I may know that reason already! So please, come inside for your benefit!"

A friendly smile plastered across his face as he thinks of the people who have been scared off in the past, but he can feel this energy surrounding this girl. A past live that's gone through a trauma so bad that it singes his hairs with fire, but fills his fingertips with ice. Opening the door wider, he steps back to try and let her inside. Eyes glancing to the items that fill their shop and already setting up a plan of what to give her to help with this excess of sorrow-filled energy.

"Welcome to Forsàidh's shop!"

[*]

I allow the backs of my fingers to wrap on the door. The gentle, yet harsh sound echoing from my end to the other side of the door. I knew what I was doing was going to alert the dweller inside, but this isn't some fairytale. There were no witches waiting in the woods to attack or wolves daring themselves to seek their next meal from within the barricaded place. My heartbeat quickens like a broken glass from an hourglass. It soars beyond and out of control when the presence of solidarity becomes hounded with company. My bottom lip opens already trying to explain what it is that has brought me to the doorstep but I feel no words come out. Speak. If you don't speak, he'll think your weird. Still no words reply but he already has found a way to draw my attention with his voice.

"Welcome. Looks like Fate and Destiny brought you here for a reason. Come inside! We have lots to do!"

My father's voice finds my head. It echoes words of warning to walk inside this strangers humble abode, but I find that in my heart, there is nothing to be weary of. Complete opposite, but it still feels... Awkward? With such quick reflexes, he resounds his rude and quite surprising greeting. A gentle, upward grin only masks the uncertainty that I had moments ago. Flushed away with his sincerest of apologies.

"Oh, it's fine! It was my mistake to wake you up and for that I should apologize myself." I find myself pointing to his hair, showing that it looked like he'd just woken up and assuming the worst that all I did was interrupt an early morning nap. "You said your name was Gilsmore Forsaidh?" Again, I find myself lingering on his words. He mentioned magic and energy. Words that were foreign to my ears. Tilting my head just so, I give him the most questioning look before his invitation to come in arose once more.

I do not fear him. He's got a jolly disposition, really. What's to fear? I step inside, still letting the axe tap against the side of my leg, a little less excitedly than before. Sweat suddenly moistens my hands as I enter his house. It's not hot, but there's something about it. The aroma it gives is calming.

"I'm impressed that you run this by yourself. I'm even more impressed that I've never seen this place before. I can't recall anyone ever talking of this place either. Also, I'm sorry, I feel so rude. My name is Callico Keystone. I didn't mean to barge in on you. Just looking for someone. Maybe you can help me?"

Callico Keystone

974b20 - Thoughts