“Haven’t has curry in forever.” Elara mused, motioning for Kieran to climb into the carriage first. She always sat by the door, needing to be close to a hypothetical escape route to ease her mind. “Hey, ktherion, you a fan of spicy food?”
Kieran climbed in. "Tell me what ktherion means first." He replied, looking at her expressionlessly. In truth, he was just curious as to what, exactly, she was calling him. It didn't really matter; he had been called almost every name in the books. He answered to just about anything anyone could call him.
Elara made a face, climbing in after him. “Do I have ta?” She asked, plopping down and setting her bag in between them. “It’s a pain in the ass t’ explain, translation wise.”
"Try." He replied with a shrug, looking at her with emotionless orange eyes. "Whatever it means, i have been called worse." He blinked, looking away as he remembered some of the names he had been called at various times by various owners.
Elara blinked, shaking her head at him. With them boarded, the carriage began to move slowly, gaining speed. “Fuck. Well, kther essentially means stone. Cause y’know, you don’ really show much emotion.”
Kieran nodded. "And…ion?" He asked. So it means stone something. He thought, looking at her. But stone…what? Head? Heart? Brain? He shrugged slight, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt again.
“It don’ really…have a meaning.” Elara said, nose scrunching up as she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s typically added t’ words when they’re made int’ nicknames or somethin’. Callin’ ya stone wouldn’t’a made much sense on it’s own.”
"Oh." He replied with a shrug. "That makes sense, I guess." He was quiet after that as the carriage began to move. He sighed softly, tapping his fingers on his pant leg to try and distract himself from the fact that a carriage was, in fact, a small, enclosed space. Something he absolutely hated.
Elara leaned against the side of the carriage, closing her eyes and fiddling with her mother’s dagger. “Ya never answered my question. Spicy foods? Or ya more o’ a flavorless guy? I’ll tell ya now, if ya consider salt a seasoning, I’m morally obligated t’ never even look at you again.”
Kieran sighed. "I don't care about the flavor of my food, so long as it is food." He replied, looking at her. "Where I grew up, i couldn't exactly afford to be picky. Because if I didn't like my food? Well. I didn't get any more." He shrugged slightly. He had learned to eat everything he was given very early on.
“Makes sense.” Elara said, nodding once. She kept her eyes closed. “Growin’ up, it was whatever we could afford.” Or steal. “You’re gonna get t’ try an insane number o’ foods though. I’ve had e’rythin’ from bread t’ squid in the past year.”
Kieran nodded, looking out the window. "I see." He said. Why am I talking so much? I could get punished for this! Some part of him panicked. He swallowed. She asked, i answered. That's all. He told himself, smoothing a hand over his left horn to calm his nerves.
“The glass swings open.” Elara said randomly, referring to the window on Kieran’s side. It wasn’t really all that random, as she was paying more attention to his movement than she let on. “Inward. ‘S jus’ a bit fragile.”
Kieran jumped slightly, then nodded. "I see. Thank you." He said softly. He didn't open it, preferring to lean his forehead slightly on the glass, looking out. As long as i am out before it is dark, i will be okay. I don't know…how well i could handle a dark, enclosed space. He sighed softly. I know how well. And it wouldn't be good.
Hianta is only a few hours away. Hopefully, we'll make it before nightfall. Then I can make a quick stop by the Wolf’s Maw. Elara mused to herself, looking like she was falling asleep. She was wide awake though, and likely wouldn’t sleep much at all that night either.
Kieran was silent, watching the scenery go by. It was interesting to watch, as he hadn't had much opportunity to travel. So he watched as the scenery went past. Trees, roads, lakes.
Elara only spoke again as the sun began to set, her eyes open now as she peered out of the window on her own side. “We’re gettin’ close, thank the gods. My legs’re so damn stiff ‘n’ I’m hungry as hell. Ya alright? No’ motion sick, I hope.”
Kieran looked up. "I am fine, your highness." He replied, looking over at her. So long as we stop before dark. He thought with a soft sigh.
“Roman throws up e’rytime he’s in a carriage. Jus’ makin’ sure.” Elara said with a shrug, unsheathing her dagger to play with it. Something to do. “Guessin’ maybe half an hour t’ an hour left. Slow ride t’day.”
Kieran nodded. "Ah, i see." He replied. He touched a hand to his horn again with a sigh. An hour…and how long until sunset?
((Question! Do we want to toss in the attempted murder rn, or after a few towns?))
Elara returned her gaze to the window, fingers trailing the blade of the dagger. It caught the fading light, etched letters in the blade stood out, letters or words in a flowing script and unrecognizable language. At least, to Kieran. Elara knew exactly what they meant, knew that this dagger was a purposeful gift left behind, was a goodbye. Why? Screw where. Why the fuck did you leave, mom? Why?
(it's up to you, I'm good with whatever you want!)
Kieran glanced at the blade for a moment, then returned his attention to the window, watching the scenery go by. Arriving soon? I hope so. The sun was beginning to go down, it's rays brushing against the horizon as it dipped lower and lower, painting the sky shades of orange, purple, and pink.
((Aaaaaa I’m the worst at deciding. Coin flip? That’s what I usually use))
Elara, against her better judgement and despite her best attempts, had once again slipped into the same black hole that followed thinking too much about her mother. The whys and what ifs and ‘it’s your fault’s, the same ones she’d gone over a thousand, no, a million times. A black hole was what her mind had become, since her mother’s disappearance. And not even the light she’d inherited could dispel the shadows.
(lol. Want me to flip the coin, or are you going to?)
Kieran sighed softly, running a hand over his horns. What would my parents think of me? He thought of his parents for the first time in years. He hadn't seen them since he was five years old, when he was first sold off to a new owner. He had only just had his emotions removed, and all he had done was stand and stare at his parents as the wagon he was put in drove away.
((Lmao could you? I don’t have the energy to traverse the house in search of a coin, and I’m watching Scream. Heads now tails later?))
Elara’s inner turmoil didn’t quite show on her face, but the way she was gripping the handle of the dagger made it obvious. Why and where and when. Questions and questions and they’re never going to be answered. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t just accept it. Couldn’t accept that her mother was gone. Because that didn’t match up with the woman who’d raised her, who’d taught her to fight and steal, how to mend her clothes after a fight and make hot chocolate. How to climb the clock tower and how to read, how to fall right and how to tie her boots. She wouldn’t just leave, not without warning or not without a really, really good reason. And she wouldn’t leave her dagger, the only item she wouldn’t sell, when she did. Not without reason. What was your reason, mom?
(lol yup XD it was tails, so later)
Kieran saw how tight she was gripping the dagger, and raised an eyebrow. "Your highness, if you continue gripping that so tightly, someone or something is going to get hurt." He told her quietly. Why is she even holding it so tight? He wondered. Is something wrong? What could be wrong? He was getting a bit more antsy and nervous as it got darker, although that wasn't obvious in any way.
Elara took in a shaky breath, Kieran’s voice drawing her out of the black hole of her mind. “I-“ She looked down at the dagger, forcing her grip to relax just a bit. “I’d hafta be tryna use it t’ hurt anyone.” She said, shaking her head and cursing her voice for wavering just slightly.
He tipped his head slightly, horn grazing across the ceiling. "Your highness, are you alright?" He asked. A voice shake was typically from fear or sadness. He knew that, though he hadn't felt those in a long time. Well, not sadness. Fear was one he felt still.
“Yeah. ‘M fine.” Elara said, shaking her head roughly to dispel her thoughts. Now wasn’t the time for memories and worries. There never was a time, but she would rather find herself trapped in her own mind at night, alone, than in a carriage with a Thari who didn’t get it. With anyone. Nobody got it. Nobody even knew, except for Johnson and Mack on some level, and Roman partly.
Kieran nodded, looking out the window again. His left foot started to bounce slightly to try and dispel the nervous energy that came up inside him as the sun went down. -so dark so dark so dark so dark so small so small so small- he cut the memory off, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.