What Is a Week-end, i. [Torin]
Posted: Sat Dec 18, 2021 9:49 pm
Lake Udori
7 Frost 121
"Can I gallop now?" Timon asked.
The road wasn't much of a road up the eastern shore of Lake Udori. There were no cities of size in this direction, only the odd fishing village. But the road ran through a field here, and by Aurin's novice estimations, they were very nearly as far as they needed to go so he might not get another chance. Aurin glanced at Torin, but the young smith deferred to him in most things, so he replied.
"Sure, all right. From here to the treeline, then, and wait for us there. Don't fall," he warned, "or the ride back to the city is going to hurt."
Timon winced, already a bit saddle sore after a few hours of journeying. But he gave a heroic cry and urged the rented mount inexpertly with reins and heels and the poor beast sped up, then trotted, which was the gelding's revenge upon the boy, no doubt, before picking up into a canter that was quite fast enough for the city born and raised boy.
"He won't fall," Aurin promised, then hooked a hand around Torin's elbow to pull him close for a kiss.
They only planned to be gone for a couple of days. The Forge apparently being watched by one of Torin's friends, the Theater set without any foreseeable need for him until he returned, and his other people generally going about their business with no problem. Aurin didn't really understand the concept of a vacation, but here they were. It wouldn't be a fuck fest with Torin if Timon was there, but that was all right. They would have a little time and space outside of the city so Timon could stretch his legs and they could all learn a thing or two about survival—though Aurin had packed food in case fishing turned out to be a bust.
Then he grinned something self-assured at the smith's reaction.
"Want to gallop after him?"
7 Frost 121
"Can I gallop now?" Timon asked.
The road wasn't much of a road up the eastern shore of Lake Udori. There were no cities of size in this direction, only the odd fishing village. But the road ran through a field here, and by Aurin's novice estimations, they were very nearly as far as they needed to go so he might not get another chance. Aurin glanced at Torin, but the young smith deferred to him in most things, so he replied.
"Sure, all right. From here to the treeline, then, and wait for us there. Don't fall," he warned, "or the ride back to the city is going to hurt."
Timon winced, already a bit saddle sore after a few hours of journeying. But he gave a heroic cry and urged the rented mount inexpertly with reins and heels and the poor beast sped up, then trotted, which was the gelding's revenge upon the boy, no doubt, before picking up into a canter that was quite fast enough for the city born and raised boy.
"He won't fall," Aurin promised, then hooked a hand around Torin's elbow to pull him close for a kiss.
They only planned to be gone for a couple of days. The Forge apparently being watched by one of Torin's friends, the Theater set without any foreseeable need for him until he returned, and his other people generally going about their business with no problem. Aurin didn't really understand the concept of a vacation, but here they were. It wouldn't be a fuck fest with Torin if Timon was there, but that was all right. They would have a little time and space outside of the city so Timon could stretch his legs and they could all learn a thing or two about survival—though Aurin had packed food in case fishing turned out to be a bust.
Then he grinned something self-assured at the smith's reaction.
"Want to gallop after him?"