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Date Posted: 00:36:22 02/05/02 Tue
Author: Rowan
Subject: And why not?
In reply to: Tristan 's message, "No more wine for you!" on 00:06:10 02/05/02 Tue

Rowan tried to hide his grin when he saw Saras almost burst into tears at the implication from Corum that he wasn’t pretty. Immediately, Jeremy scrambled off his shoulders and hurried over to his new friend, doing his best to console him. Rowan sighed and shook his head, finally wading back toward shore with the others.

“Don’t cry, kiddo,” he soothed, smiling at first Jeremy then Saras as he neared the end of the pond they were sitting at. “Corum’s just a silly goof of an idiot. I think you’re the prettiest damn little genie I’ve ever laid eyes on.” As he hefted himself out of the pond waters, he leaned over and planted a kiss on Saras’ mouth, giving him a friendly wink.

He decided to leave the two alone for now, taking his time gathering his clothes and heading back toward camp. Privately, he was glad to see Jeremy taking an interest in someone besides Marz. But whether his sudden desire for the genie’s companionship was plutonic or hopefully romantic in nature remained to be seen. Rowan didn’t really care one way or the other; Jeremy did need a friend, especially someone that he could at least try to take care of sometimes instead of it always being the other way around.

He whistled to himself as he walked, finally pausing to tug on his boots, shirt, and pants, even though that created a big wet spot around his ass and crotch. He hadn’t brought any extra underpants, but didn’t really want to prance around half-naked anymore, either. The sun was absolutely murder on his skin. Of course, had he known the attention he’d been getting from the eyes of Isobel and Tia (or anybody else, for that matter), he would have happily stayed that way for the rest of the day, but as he didn’t, he was glad to be once again fully clothed.

He was almost shocked right out of his boots when he saw Tia crawling up to him, a strange glazed look in her eye. When she grabbed a hold of him and hoisted herself up by using him as a crutch, he almost lost it and took advantage of the situation, ready to wrap his arms around her lithe body and kiss her once again. But once she started speaking, he realized she was dead drunk, so he held back, being the gentleman he was (or at least thought he was, anyway). Funny thing was, she didn’t smell like alcohol at all; in fact, there was a strange, sweet smell wafting from her cloths that made him feel slightly nauseated.

And oh, dear gods, speaking of her clothes! Her initial words were lost on him as he stared in amazement at the skimpy Jann outfit she’d tugged onto her body. Maybe Isobel did fill hers out better, but there was just something about seeing the normally spunky little Tia wearing an ensemble like this that set his heart to racing.

“No, come back,” he whispered, grabbing uselessly at the air as she tottered away, Justin’s flask of whiskey in her hand. He continued gawking at her for a few seconds before whirling around and facing Justin. His initial intentions to tell the ugly merc to keep his hands of the pretty thief never quite came to fruition. The guy was way taller than him, and probably weighed a good hundred pounds or so more. Rowan swallowed and turned away, determined to shove his sword up his sweaty ass anyway if the big oaf ever decided to make Tia pay him back in some disgusting manner he’d managed to cook up.

Quickly, he hurried toward the centaur tents and swiped a bottle of wine, doing his best to ignore the continued lamentations of the creatures over their fallen brethren. He knew he was way too sensitive for an ex-jantu, that is, a shado apprentice, so he always tried to keep his emotions under wraps when he possibly could. He trotted back to their own camp, pausing before the tent Marz was supposedly housed in before moving to enter.

Before he’d even partially pulled the tent flap back, however, he was suddenly hit full in the face with a lung-full of putridly sweet smoke. He was sent back hacking and coughing, stumbling to his knees and clutching the wine bottle to his chest. Automatically, he felt his allergies acting up, making his throat constrict and his eyes start to water uncontrollably.

“Hey,” he managed to call out, “I’ve got your wine, but if you want it, you’re gonna have to come out here to get it, sweetheart!”

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