Post by Darion Wrathran (Killian Grey) on Sept 6, 2010 14:10:02 GMT -5
Darion stood in the entrance hall wearily, his lids heavy with exhaustion. It felt as though his feet were lead bricks and the sensation made it almost impossible to move let alone function. In the back of his mind Killian demanded to be released stating Darion needed a good nights rest yet as tempting as the offer was Darion refused. He would not lose his head here in the castle despite that it had happened many times already; but at the moment he wasn’t in the confines of his chamber. Leaning against the wall Darion placed his rough fingers to his temple, the throbbing in his head making it difficult to see.
After a few minutes the pain in his cranium began to recede and his vision clear, though a light ache still picked at his brain. Ignis, Darion’s beast, was out in the grounds being fed and groomed for they had just returned to the castle. Their business had been typical, scouting the area for anything unusual and they hadn’t found a single trace of irregularity. Darion continued to stand there breathing heavily as though a major weight had been pressed down upon him, his hand ran through his dark purple locks in an attempt at soothing himself.
He was glad the room was empty, or at least it appeared to be. It had been a boring trek back home and his nerves were fried, a feeling of agitation surged down his spine. All he desired were the thick sheets on his comfortable bed; he could almost hear his warm bed calling to him. Yet there he stood unable to move. Maybe an alcoholic drink would motivate him into moving but that would mean walking to the kitchens. A frustrated sigh slipped from his mouth.
After a few minutes the pain in his cranium began to recede and his vision clear, though a light ache still picked at his brain. Ignis, Darion’s beast, was out in the grounds being fed and groomed for they had just returned to the castle. Their business had been typical, scouting the area for anything unusual and they hadn’t found a single trace of irregularity. Darion continued to stand there breathing heavily as though a major weight had been pressed down upon him, his hand ran through his dark purple locks in an attempt at soothing himself.
He was glad the room was empty, or at least it appeared to be. It had been a boring trek back home and his nerves were fried, a feeling of agitation surged down his spine. All he desired were the thick sheets on his comfortable bed; he could almost hear his warm bed calling to him. Yet there he stood unable to move. Maybe an alcoholic drink would motivate him into moving but that would mean walking to the kitchens. A frustrated sigh slipped from his mouth.
