IP: 66.208.250.154
Posted on July 22, 2014 at 04:28:59 AM by TORRAM
[ooc]
I was pretty sure Tristan and Tor were around the same age, if not I can rewrite this (cuz it would be awkward if he's young I think. hahaha!). [/ooc] When Torram was younger, before he'd come to Shaman, he'd once overheard his father's guards talking of the stable as being a meeting place of sorts where certain young guards would take certain young women at certain times of the day or night, and it had taken him awhile to realize that said "meetings" were not the same sort that occurred in his father's study. Being young and awkward, far too gangly and timid to draw attention of most any sort and particularly that of the fairer sex, he'd put such thoughts out of his mind and had almost entirely forgotten about them. Or, at least, he'd thought he had. As two bodies came flying out of the stall Mortimer had been staring at so intently, the memory of that conversation came back with full force, and Torram's light brown skin flushed darkly as he resisted - barely - the urge to cover his eyes. He was a man now, seventeen whole years old after his recent birthday, and ought to take such events in stride, he thought. So, although he was blushing and looking rather uncomfortable, he cleared his throat awkwardly and politely kept his gaze on the boy, who seemed to be put together, and not his companion lest she be in a state of undress. It was then, as Morty (the traitorous jerk) nuzzled the boy on the ground, that Torram noticed there was a distinct lack of dishevelment that one would expect from such - hem, hem - "meetings", something that was corroborated by the pair's laughter seconds later. Relieved, Torram returned the boy's grin with equal amusement, offering a hand to help him to his feet. "Sorry, he's a bit of a handful," Torram said, belatedly noticing the other boy's bandaged arm and feeling a bit guilty that Morty had startled him to the ground. At Tristan's word, Torram's head tipped back a bit, his own laughter joining the mix. "That's what I said! He belongs to my guardian Birch, she thinks he's the best thing since steak." Noticing that his charge was still crowding the pair, Torram got a grip on his reins and directed him back a bit. "C'mon, Mort, out of the way." Mortimer was lipping, or rather gnawing (as he had no lips), at Torram's shoulder in a rather transparent plea for another apple, and Torram tried valiantly to ignore him as he accepted the boy's outstretched hand with a friendly smile. "I was going to say the same," Torram replied with a nod. "I'm Torram, and this is Mortimer. Who's your... er, friend?" He pinkened a bit again as he looked in Miriam's direction, obviously unsure of himself both in the situation and around females in general, but his smile was no less polite or friendly than it had been when he'd turned it on Tristan. |
Replies:
- those of low bearing and those born to fly - By tristan August 13, 2014 at 01:20:47 AM
- only hate the road when you're missin' home - By torram August 16, 2014 at 00:41:45 AM
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