drabbles: scattered words

[beech]

★ reticence
People who didn’t know Engel would assume he had little to say. True enough, the elf would often be by himself, gazing off into the distance with his arms folded over his chest. When engaged in conversation, his contributions could often be few.

However, he had a lot more to say than he actually said, Per realised. He often went to speak and then stalled, as if realising he was about to say more than he wanted to. He’d compress his lips together or look away, and she wondered what on earth had happened in the past that stopped his voice.

But, with her, she saw very few of those moments. Rather, she hardly saw them at all, and those times grew even scarcer the longer they knew each other.


★ lackadaisical
“You really don’t like him,” Per muttered, amazed, after a day spent with Gable in the summer lands.

Engel exhaled sharply through his nose, and it was the most annoyed she saw him save for when they were actually talking to the ranger of the summer lands. His arms had folded over his chest as they walked with brisk strides (though he shortened his, so not to leave her behind—and he thought she didn’t notice at all!).

“I don’t like those who laze around so much,” he replied tersely.

Per thought that Engel could stand to laze around a little more.


★ welter
Blood. It stung Perennial’s nose and it made all of her fur bristle up, from her ears all the way to her tail.

Engel wasn’t the type of person to just lay down and allow himself to be hurt, not when Perennial was there, not when her safety was on the line. So while he was prone, he was still trying. He’d drip blood all the while he was trying to stand up, like now, but his motions were sluggish and one of his arms hung limp by his side. His face was contorted, his motions jerky and turbulent.

Per’s mind went blank, then went red.


★ hiemal
When she was with Engel, she couldn’t help but to be reminded of winter. Of the cold, of the bitter winds, the desolation that one thought of when they gazed out over an empty expanse of white—

But she remembered too the warm fire, being wrapped in thick blankets, drinking warm water flavoured with lemon and honey, that moment when you’d stop and you’d close your eyes and you heard the creaking and snapping of ice somewhere deep down under the latest snowfall.


★ element
“Listen, Mindle, elements are very important to magic,” Terr had started on one of his spiels again. He was horrifically long winded once he got started, but the subjects he chose to talk about were very interesting and helped when it came to tests and other assignments in their classes. “Even disregarding the power of the elements, each one has a specific specification that one can work toward and hone their magic—”

…Oh, not good. She was beginning to doze off. No, usually she was better than this…! But it had been a long, exhausting day, and Terr’s voice (whether he realised it or not) was oddly relaxing. It reminded her of the sound of owls back home…

She stirred when something was being placed over her shoulders, tucked around her, but sleepiness was a powerful haze that wouldn’t let her completely break through.

“If you’re tired, you should say so,” he murmured to himself.


★ gregarious
For an owl that spent as much time as he could sleeping during the day, needing to be walked from place to place to avoid slamming into walls, at nights Terr was so alive by comparison.

He liked company and other people—Mindle thought, at least—but it was strange. So few people flocked to him, though there were the members of their club, at the very least. It might be his mannerisms, or the way he’d launch into long-winded explanations, or how he’d glare at those who weren’t doing what they were supposed to.

Once you got used to them, didn’t those personality traits become endearing, though…?


★ desolate
The school halls were desolate at night.

For a school filled with mostly creatures active during the day, it was always a hubbub, full of noise and activity. By the time the sun had set, all of them had emptied away save for a few. Terr was never bothered by it, and the soft sound of his turning pages was a balm that made Mindle forget just how silent it was.

He waved her closer, too, when he’d notice her attention wandering, point out important passages that you have to know in his books of choice.