Post by Brin on Jul 31, 2011 17:03:15 GMT -5
The quiet rustling of pages was the only sound to be heard from the small hut that Ciel currently occupied. That and the occasional growl from the elf’s stomach. The young mage and recently… “acquired” a new book from the nearby town and had ended up being so drawn in by the pages he couldn’t put it down.
...
Not that that said much. Even if the book wasn’t good he still wouldn’t put it down. But he found this newest book genuinely interesting. He was a sucker for history. History, stories about constellations, and spells were his top three favourites, in that order. Really, though, he just loved books in general.
But, anyways, he couldn’t put the history book down. Quite literally. Ciel Arkenea had read nearly all day the previous day, through the night, and was just now putting down the book. Now that he had read it cover to cover, there was no real reason for him to still hold on to it. Picking himself up from his small bed he brought his arms over his head in long stretch. A moment later, he almost doubled over due to the pain in his stomach. Having opted to continue reading rather than getting food may not have been his greatest idea but it didn’t matter now. After the pain subsided a bit he exited his home. Never had he been happier at the fact an apple tree grew so close to his home. While not completely ripe yet he decided they were ripe enough for now. Plucking three from the tree he pretty much scarfed them down.
After his stomach had a bit of food in it he returned into his hut. It was... cozy place, for lack of a better term. And it looked old, almost as if a strong wind might take it down. It had a small bed—more like two blankets and a pillow—on the far side. The floor was decorated with a bunch of books, books both he and the previous occupant had gotten one way or another, and papers scattered about. There had been many times he had just considered finding a new place to live but this hut was more of a home to him than anywhere else the young elf had ever lived.
Plus, a new house would cost money... which Ciel didn’t have. Okay, so that was the real reason he didn’t just move. The mage wasn’t too fond of working. It took up too much time. The way he saw it, he just didn’t want to waste his life working unless he enjoyed the work. Any sort of jobs back in the town didn’t seem all that enjoyable to him.
For a moment the mage couldn’t recall what he had come back into the hut for. Deciding it must not have been important he walked back outside. When a cool breeze hit his arms he remembered it was for a cloak. The weather was getting colder and winter would hit soon. Ciel hated winter… hated anything cold, really. In order to keep his pointed ears warmer he pulled the hairtie out of his platinum blonde (nearly white) hair, letting the waist-length locks just hang down, unlike usual. The chin-length bangs fell into his almond-shaped grey eyes, covering most of his face and the elaborate tattoo he had around each of his eyes—a sure sign of his elven heritage. Pulling a simple cloak on over his clothing he decided to go see if any of the traps he set out caught anything.
Humming a quiet tune, a tune a friend use to sing to him, to himself made the forest seem less empty as he walked. It didn’t take him long to get to his first trap. Though, the way he found was almost really rather unpleasant. Initially, he had forgotten where exactly he had placed it and nearly ran into it. While glad he had caught himself, he was less glad there wasn’t an animal in it. Figuring the same was for his other trap he didn’t bother to go check. Rather, he decided fish would be good enough (mostly just because the river was closer than his other trap). Rolling up the legs on his pants and discarding his cloak he grabbed his small dagger—though it was more like a knife than anything—and attempt to spear a fish. He’d done it before so he was counting on being able to do it again.
Of course, before, it had taken him nearly a good three hours.
Hopefully it’d go a bit faster this time. The water was cold and he wanted out.
Within the hour he had managed to catch himself a fish. He’d also managed to get himself soaked. Once out of the river he couldn’t help but grumble under his breath, “Who’s genius idea was it to try to catch a fish with a knife?”
Gee, I wonder... a sarcastic voice in his head retorted.
Shaking his head slightly at himself he threw his cloak back on and returned to his hut. Making a quick fire, with the help of a spell, he started to roast the fish—deciding to scale it after it wasn’t so gross to touch.
Plus, he figured it’d be nice to dry off and get warm first.
...
Not that that said much. Even if the book wasn’t good he still wouldn’t put it down. But he found this newest book genuinely interesting. He was a sucker for history. History, stories about constellations, and spells were his top three favourites, in that order. Really, though, he just loved books in general.
But, anyways, he couldn’t put the history book down. Quite literally. Ciel Arkenea had read nearly all day the previous day, through the night, and was just now putting down the book. Now that he had read it cover to cover, there was no real reason for him to still hold on to it. Picking himself up from his small bed he brought his arms over his head in long stretch. A moment later, he almost doubled over due to the pain in his stomach. Having opted to continue reading rather than getting food may not have been his greatest idea but it didn’t matter now. After the pain subsided a bit he exited his home. Never had he been happier at the fact an apple tree grew so close to his home. While not completely ripe yet he decided they were ripe enough for now. Plucking three from the tree he pretty much scarfed them down.
After his stomach had a bit of food in it he returned into his hut. It was... cozy place, for lack of a better term. And it looked old, almost as if a strong wind might take it down. It had a small bed—more like two blankets and a pillow—on the far side. The floor was decorated with a bunch of books, books both he and the previous occupant had gotten one way or another, and papers scattered about. There had been many times he had just considered finding a new place to live but this hut was more of a home to him than anywhere else the young elf had ever lived.
Plus, a new house would cost money... which Ciel didn’t have. Okay, so that was the real reason he didn’t just move. The mage wasn’t too fond of working. It took up too much time. The way he saw it, he just didn’t want to waste his life working unless he enjoyed the work. Any sort of jobs back in the town didn’t seem all that enjoyable to him.
For a moment the mage couldn’t recall what he had come back into the hut for. Deciding it must not have been important he walked back outside. When a cool breeze hit his arms he remembered it was for a cloak. The weather was getting colder and winter would hit soon. Ciel hated winter… hated anything cold, really. In order to keep his pointed ears warmer he pulled the hairtie out of his platinum blonde (nearly white) hair, letting the waist-length locks just hang down, unlike usual. The chin-length bangs fell into his almond-shaped grey eyes, covering most of his face and the elaborate tattoo he had around each of his eyes—a sure sign of his elven heritage. Pulling a simple cloak on over his clothing he decided to go see if any of the traps he set out caught anything.
Humming a quiet tune, a tune a friend use to sing to him, to himself made the forest seem less empty as he walked. It didn’t take him long to get to his first trap. Though, the way he found was almost really rather unpleasant. Initially, he had forgotten where exactly he had placed it and nearly ran into it. While glad he had caught himself, he was less glad there wasn’t an animal in it. Figuring the same was for his other trap he didn’t bother to go check. Rather, he decided fish would be good enough (mostly just because the river was closer than his other trap). Rolling up the legs on his pants and discarding his cloak he grabbed his small dagger—though it was more like a knife than anything—and attempt to spear a fish. He’d done it before so he was counting on being able to do it again.
Of course, before, it had taken him nearly a good three hours.
Hopefully it’d go a bit faster this time. The water was cold and he wanted out.
Within the hour he had managed to catch himself a fish. He’d also managed to get himself soaked. Once out of the river he couldn’t help but grumble under his breath, “Who’s genius idea was it to try to catch a fish with a knife?”
Gee, I wonder... a sarcastic voice in his head retorted.
Shaking his head slightly at himself he threw his cloak back on and returned to his hut. Making a quick fire, with the help of a spell, he started to roast the fish—deciding to scale it after it wasn’t so gross to touch.
Plus, he figured it’d be nice to dry off and get warm first.