'Torqin, son of Jholengrier and Amyriah, milady."
The thought of his father brought a terrible realization down upon him. Would something happen to his father now? His father committed no crime, but did that matter to the Baron? He doubted it. He'd not only put himself in danger, but his father too. He knew his mother would be fine, he hoped, she lived in Drakengard. Torqin rarely got to see her, and she only met with his father a couple times a year. There's was a feral relationship, held together by their only child. But it wasn't a parentage like many others held. They led independent lives. They loved each other greatly, but they valued their freedom far more than love. And it worked for them. They were happy.
Had Torqin destroyed that too in his protection of Lady Celeste?
No. He shook his head at that. He knew what his father would say. It would be something along the lines of how a man should only concern himself with his own choices, not the choices of others. He'd raised Torqin to be a good man, and trusted in the choices his son made. And he'd be proud of this. And Immortals forbid, if they executed him by association, he'd die with a smile, knowing he'd raised his boy right.
At Celeste's apology, Torqin shook his head, "Thank you milady, but it was a choice I made. My own. No one is to blame. And yes, I do hope you'll keep me safe as well. We need each other to make it through this." He was sincere in this. He'd much rather come out alive after all this is said and done. And when Celeste slipped her small hand in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze, "And it shouldn't be so bad. After all, this forest is as much your home as your bedroom, right?"
Torqin led her through the woods, taking them along the river, in the hopes to make throwing off the trail easier. He crossed several times, leading Celeste by the hand, carrying her wear needed, with her permission first of course. After a few times across, he led them perpendicularly away from the river. The forest was wild, and Torqin didn't know the best ways to traverse it, and it led to them being covered in dirt, cuts from briars, and were moving slower than was ideal.
The sun was past the point of midday. And Torqin was hungry, so he was sure Celeste would be as well. And they had no supplies. It had been tiring. To her question, "Yes, milady. I cannot lie to you. I don't know this forest."
He stopped moving, and looked about. He listened to the wind, trying to hear any signs of pursuit. There were none. No dogs barking, no horns blaring. Perhaps they were safe for now.
"Milady, we need to make shelter for tonight. Find some water. Some food. And wait until tomorrow. If we can find the river tomorrow, we can follow it back to the road. And maybe, just maybe from there, we can get you to your grandfather safely."
In the distance, there was a small collection of large, exposed stones. "Maybe we can make shelter there Lady Celeste. Are you cold? Hungry? I can look for some food for us."
The thought of his father brought a terrible realization down upon him. Would something happen to his father now? His father committed no crime, but did that matter to the Baron? He doubted it. He'd not only put himself in danger, but his father too. He knew his mother would be fine, he hoped, she lived in Drakengard. Torqin rarely got to see her, and she only met with his father a couple times a year. There's was a feral relationship, held together by their only child. But it wasn't a parentage like many others held. They led independent lives. They loved each other greatly, but they valued their freedom far more than love. And it worked for them. They were happy.
Had Torqin destroyed that too in his protection of Lady Celeste?
No. He shook his head at that. He knew what his father would say. It would be something along the lines of how a man should only concern himself with his own choices, not the choices of others. He'd raised Torqin to be a good man, and trusted in the choices his son made. And he'd be proud of this. And Immortals forbid, if they executed him by association, he'd die with a smile, knowing he'd raised his boy right.
At Celeste's apology, Torqin shook his head, "Thank you milady, but it was a choice I made. My own. No one is to blame. And yes, I do hope you'll keep me safe as well. We need each other to make it through this." He was sincere in this. He'd much rather come out alive after all this is said and done. And when Celeste slipped her small hand in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze, "And it shouldn't be so bad. After all, this forest is as much your home as your bedroom, right?"
Torqin led her through the woods, taking them along the river, in the hopes to make throwing off the trail easier. He crossed several times, leading Celeste by the hand, carrying her wear needed, with her permission first of course. After a few times across, he led them perpendicularly away from the river. The forest was wild, and Torqin didn't know the best ways to traverse it, and it led to them being covered in dirt, cuts from briars, and were moving slower than was ideal.
The sun was past the point of midday. And Torqin was hungry, so he was sure Celeste would be as well. And they had no supplies. It had been tiring. To her question, "Yes, milady. I cannot lie to you. I don't know this forest."
He stopped moving, and looked about. He listened to the wind, trying to hear any signs of pursuit. There were none. No dogs barking, no horns blaring. Perhaps they were safe for now.
"Milady, we need to make shelter for tonight. Find some water. Some food. And wait until tomorrow. If we can find the river tomorrow, we can follow it back to the road. And maybe, just maybe from there, we can get you to your grandfather safely."
In the distance, there was a small collection of large, exposed stones. "Maybe we can make shelter there Lady Celeste. Are you cold? Hungry? I can look for some food for us."
