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for we were made of stronger things
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“Pretty sure I know a good deal more than you,” Tristan responded smugly, giving Mara a sanctimonious little nod to emphasise his point, “if you just yell and strop at something all the time, it’ll get sick of it eventually.” His green eyes narrowed as he continued to glare at the girl, only now there was more meaning behind the scowl. “I mean, I have only been near you for ten minutes, and I’m already sick of you. I feel sorry for the poor thing since she has to spend all of her time with you.” She pokes her tongue out, and Tristan gazes back looking distinctly unimpressed, his expression now asking her if that really was the best she could do. The boy began to swing his legs back and forth, his heel jarring against the wall each time it made contact with the stone. He managed to look relaxed and completely at ease, as if her anger and their current position did not bother him in the slightest. He felt Mara shift beside him, and took the opportunity to deliver a sharp elbow to her ribs, one of his feet accidently-on-purpose, aiming to catch her shin instead of the wall.

“Saying please means nothing,” Tristan informs his unwelcome companion after a pause, “if you say it as if you expect people to say yes.” He glances at her again out of the corner of his eyes, adjusting his hands grip upon the nearby hand-hold which he had been using to keep himself firmly in place. He wished he had some of his father’s resin at that moment since sweat was beginning to make his hands slippy and unhelpful. “I don’t think you did find it first anyway,” he continued, once he was sure that he was secure in his seat once more, “I was born in this castle, and I’ve been coming up to this tower long before you and all the other kids were sent here,” he grinned in an irritating manner, “so you can give up on that idea right now.” The girl continued to rant, on and on and on and Tristan found himself rolling his eyes, sighing and shaking his head condescendingly at regular intervals. “Important huh?” he asked disbelievingly, as Celidon tried his hardest to reassure his new friend. He did not like seeing other animals looking sad, or disappointed. “I doubt you’d know important if it jumped up and bit you in the face. But hey, it is more than welcome to try, I could do with a laugh.” Tristan had not noticed that the girl’s nails had turned into claws he was enjoying winding her up far too much to pay attention to much else. Her final comment before her anger exploded, caused the boy to laugh out loud and he stuck his chin out addressing her with a distinct note of pride in his voice, “I’m may not be King,” he said, “but my Father is.”

The scream which the girl managed to produce was unbelievably loud, and, abandoning any thoughts to his safety, Tristan clamped his hands firmly over his ears. This action caused Celidon to bolt forwards and lock his teeth around his faerie’s belt. The boy however, once the girl’s scream had become more of an infuriated shout, signalled for Cel to let go and go back to his griffin friend. “Jesus!” he said, aware that his ears were actually ringing, “ever thought that I might not be so ‘mean’ if you didn’t give me so much to work with?” Having said that, Tristan gave Mara another impatient shove which he hoped would knock her as much off balance as she had done to him a few seconds previously. The large green hound looked anxiously between the two with wide eyes, as if watching a terrifying tennis match. The sudden feeling of hair impacting with his face, took Tristan by surprise, but it did not last long and he gave Mara another sharp push. “Oh thank GOD!” he replied to her oath that she would not be talking to him again, “that’s the first good think you have said this whole time!” There was no way that he was going to let this silly little girl beat him, and, from what he could see, he would be doing the world a favour by stopping her from getting everything she wanted. Just to emphasise this intention, Tristan gave her another sharp push, inadvertently using a little bit more force that he had intended.





tristan & celidon
for we were made of stronger things,
the memories of soldiers, the children of kings


original image by Stefan Tell at flickr.com






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