“Rowan!”
Johan winced and kept on walking, his gaze set determinedly forward, refusing to so much as glance behind him. If he didn’t look, they didn’t exist, and if he pretended that he hadn’t heard, maybe, just maybe they’d give up and decide that it was all too much hassle, because, light! At least they could have tried and got his name right. He hadn’t known he resembled a tree.
It was quickly proving to be one of those days where he should have stayed in bed. It had started out well enough; he had managed not to make a complete ass of himself in the Training Yard, and had pulled some moves that could almost have been deemed ‘graceful,’ but then, of course, because fate was never, ever kind, things had swiftly gone downhill from there. There had been the usual gaggle of Accepted – all future Greens in the making, no doubt -, and one of his fellow Drin had made a bet, he’d accepted, and that was basically how he had ended up here in the Gardens fleeing for his life. She’d been a pretty Andoran. She’d grabbed his arm, pulled him close, told him she was looking forward to getting to know him, and that she was going to be going for the Shawl soon. He’d babbled something about needing to meet someone, and had then ran.
And now here he was.
He kept on walking, his pace quickening with each step, desperation behind every stride. He was nowhere near to becoming a Warder, but there were some who liked to check out the potential offering early on. Not happening. Definitely not happening to him.
The moment he came across someone – a small, tiny looking Accepted-, he stopped, for once forgoing his manners.
“Pretend that you know me," he said, glancing quickly behind him. His voice was tense. "I’ll pay you.”
Not that he had any money to his name. Maybe he could offer some cake. Cake usually worked.
Johan winced and kept on walking, his gaze set determinedly forward, refusing to so much as glance behind him. If he didn’t look, they didn’t exist, and if he pretended that he hadn’t heard, maybe, just maybe they’d give up and decide that it was all too much hassle, because, light! At least they could have tried and got his name right. He hadn’t known he resembled a tree.
It was quickly proving to be one of those days where he should have stayed in bed. It had started out well enough; he had managed not to make a complete ass of himself in the Training Yard, and had pulled some moves that could almost have been deemed ‘graceful,’ but then, of course, because fate was never, ever kind, things had swiftly gone downhill from there. There had been the usual gaggle of Accepted – all future Greens in the making, no doubt -, and one of his fellow Drin had made a bet, he’d accepted, and that was basically how he had ended up here in the Gardens fleeing for his life. She’d been a pretty Andoran. She’d grabbed his arm, pulled him close, told him she was looking forward to getting to know him, and that she was going to be going for the Shawl soon. He’d babbled something about needing to meet someone, and had then ran.
And now here he was.
He kept on walking, his pace quickening with each step, desperation behind every stride. He was nowhere near to becoming a Warder, but there were some who liked to check out the potential offering early on. Not happening. Definitely not happening to him.
The moment he came across someone – a small, tiny looking Accepted-, he stopped, for once forgoing his manners.
“Pretend that you know me," he said, glancing quickly behind him. His voice was tense. "I’ll pay you.”
Not that he had any money to his name. Maybe he could offer some cake. Cake usually worked.
