Arathilion kept up a steady pace as the twilight deepened into full darkness. Tyûl watched him with come concern as they rode on, but the elf's expression remained cold and blank, his gaze never straying from the thin track in front of them as it cut its way through the grasslands. Except for the calling of eveningbirds and the soft song of insects, they traveled in complete silence. Tyûl knew that he could expect nothing different, but it still disturbed him to see his friend so... so... distant. As if he too had died, and not even grief could reach him now.
Towards moonrise Arathilion reined in his horse, Tyûl following suit. In one fluid movement Arathilion dismounted and unrolled his blanket, lying down on the ground to stare blankly up at the stars.
Tyûl scowled slightly, the grimace contorting his already contorted features as he started to tend to Arathilion's horse. He decided to let the day to day tasks slide for tonight. The elf had just lost most of his family and a good number of his people besides, and even though Tyûl's orcish thinking couldn't really understand why he didn't just move on with it, he supposed he could cut Arathilion some slack. His own father would have beaten him senseless if he had acted in this way, though. Sulking around and getting all namby-pamby over a bunch of relatives... he would never be that stupid. No, he would thank all of the gods in the Underworld if he should ever be so lucky as to walk into his household slaughtered on his return from the coast.
"Drink this, Thill," the orc said after a while, approaching Arathilion and pushing a waterskin into his limp hands.
A soft grunt was the only thing reply he got, and although Arathilion held the skin in his hands, he didn't raise it to his lips.
"You'd better get something into you, elf," Tyûl growled. "You have to draw the line at this mooning around nonsense sooner or later. They're gone, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I know."
"Then eat."
Thill sighed softly, conveying little emotion in the exhalation of breath. "Let me alone for tonight, Tyûl," he murmured. He knew that the orc didn't understand his sorrow. He wasn't going to try to explain. Instead, he was going to watch the moon cross the sky, and tomorrow, he was going to track down the people who had done this.
TBC
Towards moonrise Arathilion reined in his horse, Tyûl following suit. In one fluid movement Arathilion dismounted and unrolled his blanket, lying down on the ground to stare blankly up at the stars.
Tyûl scowled slightly, the grimace contorting his already contorted features as he started to tend to Arathilion's horse. He decided to let the day to day tasks slide for tonight. The elf had just lost most of his family and a good number of his people besides, and even though Tyûl's orcish thinking couldn't really understand why he didn't just move on with it, he supposed he could cut Arathilion some slack. His own father would have beaten him senseless if he had acted in this way, though. Sulking around and getting all namby-pamby over a bunch of relatives... he would never be that stupid. No, he would thank all of the gods in the Underworld if he should ever be so lucky as to walk into his household slaughtered on his return from the coast.
"Drink this, Thill," the orc said after a while, approaching Arathilion and pushing a waterskin into his limp hands.
A soft grunt was the only thing reply he got, and although Arathilion held the skin in his hands, he didn't raise it to his lips.
"You'd better get something into you, elf," Tyûl growled. "You have to draw the line at this mooning around nonsense sooner or later. They're gone, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I know."
"Then eat."
Thill sighed softly, conveying little emotion in the exhalation of breath. "Let me alone for tonight, Tyûl," he murmured. He knew that the orc didn't understand his sorrow. He wasn't going to try to explain. Instead, he was going to watch the moon cross the sky, and tomorrow, he was going to track down the people who had done this.
TBC