| Subject: Rest here. |
Author:
Avatar Zen
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Date Posted: 21:36:00 10/04/02 Fri
They came up on the village not so long as distance would look. People were hustling and bustling about as though they didn't notice the cold, dark night at all. One of the signs of the village said "Town of Weard."
Heads turned and people stopped as they entered, but no sneers, no noses uplifted. Visitors were a very rare occurence, especially some as angelic as they appeared. The wing'd ones.
No one approached them as she lead them to a small house, one that was dark, and had only a tiny stream of smoke coming out of the smoke stack. Only the very faint light of one single candle shown through a dingy window on closer inspection.
She knocked three times, then opened the door and went in with Invellios on her shoulder.
"Cuuz oose, boot aaye naad a ploose tah hella meh froond. Dei yeh moind eef aahe yuooze year houz?"
The long figure inside lifted his head from a book by the candle and looked toward them as Zen shut the door behind them.
"Nout'tuul."
Zen smiled and hoisted Invellios toward the bed that was nothing more than a covered but soft pile of hay.
"You'll be fine here," she said softly, delicately. She turned her attention back to the man, who was watching them soundlessly with grey eyes.
"Cooul yeah wootchen heem feer meh? Aahe neahd r'geents teh hella heim." The man nodded very slightly, and Zen smiled, and got up, then slipped quietly back out the door. The man watched her leave, then looked over toward Invellios.
"Aahe ne'er thuut aahe'd sey te'dey theer'd beh aah Fergootuun waahyee oope 'eher en Weard."
He set down his book, and got a long bunch of binding cloth.
"It's a rare occation to get anyone up here at all, I might add."
The man smiled wryly, and started to wrap and bind Invellios' wounds.
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