Post #2758953 in Ambar: Chapter 1 - Snow & Ash, a roleplay on RPG

After their little send off by the King himself, the entire group swung onto their respective mounts and set off down dirt pathway. It’d eventually lead to this village. One he’d never particularly heard of. Of course, Garos wasn’t picky when it came to where he was going… but he tended to avoid smaller places for a reason. Folks didn’t usually need mercenaries, and if they did, they weren’t that well off to begin with. Sometimes, he traded favors or manual labor for a place to rest his head. For a hot meal. Even if it didn’t pay particularly well, it kept him going. Besides, he had a soft spot for farmers; the simple, hardworking folk on the outskirts. Reminded him of his parents.

He knuckled at his nose, and readjusted himself in his saddle. Despite working with horses at his own homestead, he never really liked riding all that much. Too bouncy. Chafed his legs. Made him sore. S’pose if he rode like Callion did; all side-saddle, like a wee lass plucked into someone’s saddle, he wouldn’t complain too much. Unfortunately, he didn’t think his pride would allow him to. While he wasn’t much for prying into people’s business or offering too much about himself, he was curious about those who rode at his side. People he’d inevitably bloody his blade with. If anyone thought they’d be spared any trouble on the road, they’d be in for a rude awakening. It was almost never the case.

Digging his heels gently into Suledin’s sides to quicken the stallion’s pace, Garos nudged him alongside Mara, with Callion only slightly ahead of himself. It appeared as if Ragnar had taken the lead. It looked like it suited him, too. He was just as comfortable accepting the grizzled soldier in that role. It meant that things would generally be smoother if someone was in charge. Usually. Besides, they had mostly the same goal here, even if they were reluctant participants. Cecilia seemed only interested in learning more about their marks; Thomas was a prisoner, and probably didn’t have much choice, Callion was a mystery and Ragnar must’ve been driven by a sense of duty for his country. His kingdom. His king.

No doubt Mara had her own reasons, as well. One borne from something far more abstract then being asked politely. A sense of adventure? Purpose? Perhaps both. Seeing how she didn’t look like someone who actively fought… he couldn’t help but think it was admirable. As for him? Who knew. He certainly didn’t. At least, not yet. He cleared his throat behind a fist and tried to tame his grin into something manageable. A tempered, non-threatening smile. He hoped it was. “Ah, hey, Mara—” he swung his gaze back to the road, “I wanted to say sorry. For being y’know… back then, in the garden.”

Beastly? A savage? Unmannered? He’d heard it all before. It was unnecessarily vague. Like he was, most of the time.

Mara gave him a small, somewhat bashful smile. In spite of this demure reaction, she seemed more comfortable on a horse than on her own two feet. Sat taller, even, it seemed.

You don't need to apologize, Garos... I'm just unused to....” Mara trailed off, looking perplexed. It seemed she was seeking the words to express what it was exactly she was unused to. When she finished, it was a little unexpected. "Kind contact.." Mara seemed satisfied with those words, strange though they were. She held the reins in her small hands, looking comfortable for the first time since they had met. A scar on her hand seemed especially white against the dark leather.

"I'm sorry to have reacted so poorly." Mara looked to him, eyes soft, and smiled in a way that seemed embarrassed.

From what Garos could see... she definitely looked more at ease there, sat atop her horse. Probably tended to a lot of them back on her farm. It made him feel a little more comfortable, though he couldn't figure out why. Similar backgrounds, he supposed. He scratched at the back of his neck and swung his gaze back towards her, though maintained his attention on her hands, only sneaking a glance to her face when he caught sight of a smile. Small as it was, it was something at least.

An indication that he hadn’t offended. Not nearly as much as he thought he might’ve. The swell of tension in his chest loosened. Unknotted. If only a little. Sometimes, he just wasn’t sure how to compose himself around people. Sometimes, he just didn’t think about it. The company he rubbed elbows with tended to be of the nefarious variety. They weren’t gentle, nor particularly friendly. He was an outcast there, as well as many other places. An unfortunate effect of looking so odd. People didn’t know what to do with someone they couldn’t pinion in a category.

“Ah, I see,” he cocked his head to the side, mouth pulling into another pensive line. A lady like Mara, all soft, smooth edges, so very like the garden she’d been pilfering from back at the King’s wee kingdom, wasn’t used to kind contact? It made him wonder, wonder what her life had been like, if that was the case. For all his own misgivings, he’d been surrounded by people, his family, who’d been varying degrees of invasive spaces. His gaze trailed down from her face, and back to her hands. They raked across the obvious scar sliced across her hand. One that looked peculiar. He was quick to look away, though his mind buzzed with questions.

One’s that were probably better off left unspoken. Perhaps, for now.

Garos laugh came from deep within his chest. Loud, breathy. He couldn’t wrangle his smile quick enough, tusks peeping out despite himself. “No, no, I know I can be overbearing, at times. I hope you’ll forgive me in the future for it.” He scratched at his chin, partially covering his mouth. Only for a moment, before he dropped it back to the reigns and smiled, softer this time. “I’m guessing you had no rowdy brothers, or snotty sisters?”

Mara's eyes drifted to his face. She again seemed perplexed by his attention, more than anything else. But she was managing to look him mostly in the eyes now. Well, as much as one could while riding.

"No. Just me, a grumpy old plow horse..." She said, raising the scarred hand a bit as if in explaination. As if she could sense his stares. Mara paused a moment, expression briefly flickering, hardening. "And Father." Mara's body seemed to stiffen for a second, before the soft smile returned. She stared ahead at Callion's back, looking as if she were thinking. Maybe trying to decide on a quick topic change?

"Do you come from a big family, Garos? A big...hugging..family...?" Mara seemed suddenly red again, as if flustered by just the thought of a bunch of folks like him all hugging it out. Even her voice had that nervous squeak to it.

It didn’t really surprise him, hearing that Mara hadn’t had anyone else growing up. Garos’ mouth tipped down momentarily, eying the top of her hand. The way she’d said it. Father. Sounded more like a curse, than an endearment. It made his stomach twist, and he was sure he knew why. The inclinations were there, unspoken. A quiet admonition. A painful one. He wasn’t stupid enough to press her on that subject.

He licked his lips, and tore his gaze away from her hand. Besides, he found it far more pleasant looking at her face. She was smiling. Kind. A soft person who probably had reason enough not to be. She followed her gaze to Callion’s back, gracelessly side-saddled on his horse. Certainly a sight to see. Didn’t seem like he had any care in the world, but who knew. Everyone here had their own story.

When Mara questioned him about his own family, he almost laughed. Instead, he leaned back in his saddle, mouth twisting into a sheepish grin. “You’d think, huh?” ‘Course, people could only guess at his upbringing by how he behaved, but his family had never been the touchy sort. His father was as stern as they came, all business and lessons. His mother, on the other hand, was composed of tougher stuff; hands smacking your back if you’d done something particularly well, and impossibly loud laughter. A little like he was. “Nah, it was just me, and my parents. They weren’t big on hugging.”

Mara nodded as she listened. Seeming to absorb all his words like a plant would take in rain.

They were farmers, through and through. Hardy folk. And they had conflicting child rearing techniques, neither were particularly warm or cuddly. He never had any siblings, or many friends, besides the animals they tended. It made him lonely. Maybe, that’s why he was the way he was. Too loud. Too much.

“We tended horses, too. Pigs, chickens, cows.” Garos grinned when Mara’s face flushed red. He cleared his throat and knuckled at his nose, raising his voice to call ahead to Callion, “S’pose you had an interesting upbringing.”

"Hm? Pardon?" Callion asked, peering back and appearing to take a moment before realizing what they were talking about and what had been asked. A smile planted itself on his face, although from genuine happiness or just because his face always seemed to contort into that expression was a different question entirely. "Ah an interesting upbringing, most definitely." Callion exhuberated. "My life was, and still is simply a series of challenges to overcome, as many people could say the same. If you're looking for a tale of an uplifting and loving family filled to the brim with professional and unbridled curiosity, I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you, unless you count poisoning, severe beatings, mental and physical degredation, literal torture and home cooking that wouldn't be served to lifetime prisoners of the Hag." Callion looked back at them, with a smile that leaned more towards lunatic at this point than anything else. "But life is full of challenges we have to overcome, correct? Why not share yours, they're most likely more upbeat than mine."

Mara's smile dimmed at Callion's request. It was clear she did not think her life story was more upbeat. Garos' grin fell a fraction of an inch, though he was quick to fill in the silence, "Upbeat might be a stretch. But, you're not wrong. Challenges, overcoming. All that." He paused and awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck. Seemed as if their stories hadn't been the happiest. He didn't want to press either of them. Loneliness was a far cry from outright... misery, but he understood it. If only a little. The sun dragged across the sky, beating down at their backs. He wasn't sure if they were making good time or not. How far? How long? He cleared his throat and lifted his shoulder, "there's nowhere freer than here."

Free from whatever they'd been through. Free from burdens, in whichever form they took.

That, most of all, was a truth he believed in.

Snippet #2758953

located in The World of Ambar, a part of Ambar: Chapter 1 - Snow & Ash, one of the many universes on RPG.

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