Tell the tales of the trail of dead
Lovers learned from slower hands
Lovers learned from slower hands
Liam was on a camping trip to the Oerwoud; having left the Dragoons, he found himself with too much time on his hands and not enough to fill it. So far he'd hiked up to the Leap of Faith to enjoy the view from on high, and now he turned his attention to the Wishtide Waterways. The series of tiny streams glittered with treasures long since lost, and Liam found it fascinating to wade through the shallows, taking in the sights without removing any of the lingering riches. Let them stay where they were, lost to time and to nature.
He walked through the soft mud of the waterway banks, barefoot with his pants rolled up to his knees, carefully treading so that he didn't get stuck or otherwise trip and fall flat on his face. This would be an interesting place to train, he thought; somewhere for new recruits to learn how to balance in unforgiving terrain. But that wasn't his job anymore. Nothing was his job anymore, and though he'd assured Phoebe that he'd be willing to help around the Greatwood, it didn't seem that there was much that needed doing as of yet.
The twang of a bowstring caught Liam's attention and he froze, not wishing to inadvertently step in the way of a hunter's shot; a soft thud from down the bank told him that whoever was hunting had hit their target. He emerged from the undergrowth to find a downed stag before him, its hunter - huntress - standing across the waterways. A familiar face, well-known from his days as a Dragoon: Anju.
"Captain," Liam called by way of greeting, raising a hand casually rather than offering a formal salute. He'd parted on good terms with the Dragoons, and he found himself eager to hear the news from Stormbreak. How were the other soldiers faring since he'd left?
He walked through the soft mud of the waterway banks, barefoot with his pants rolled up to his knees, carefully treading so that he didn't get stuck or otherwise trip and fall flat on his face. This would be an interesting place to train, he thought; somewhere for new recruits to learn how to balance in unforgiving terrain. But that wasn't his job anymore. Nothing was his job anymore, and though he'd assured Phoebe that he'd be willing to help around the Greatwood, it didn't seem that there was much that needed doing as of yet.
The twang of a bowstring caught Liam's attention and he froze, not wishing to inadvertently step in the way of a hunter's shot; a soft thud from down the bank told him that whoever was hunting had hit their target. He emerged from the undergrowth to find a downed stag before him, its hunter - huntress - standing across the waterways. A familiar face, well-known from his days as a Dragoon: Anju.
"Captain," Liam called by way of greeting, raising a hand casually rather than offering a formal salute. He'd parted on good terms with the Dragoons, and he found himself eager to hear the news from Stormbreak. How were the other soldiers faring since he'd left?
Losing self in myself
And my demons make demands
And my demons make demands
Liam
