Post by White Mimic on Aug 28, 2011 2:00:00 GMT -5
“Just what do you think you’re doing?!”
The attack came swift and brutal. Basil had plenty of time (relatively) to glance over his shoulder, enough to see the old woman closing in on him, her clothes in pleats behind her as she rushed through the air. He was able to make her out first, unfortunately. Soon after turning, his face imprinted with shape of spade, a strong throw to push him back to the ground. A split-second later, he was already twisting on the ground with his hands on his face, yelling grunts into his palms and half a book cover. He never could take a punch, and that was a cheap shot he wasn’t expecting.
Oh sure, he had met with injury before, but it was a bad habit to avoid and block every attack sent his way. It meant small things like this would hurt all the more, stuff he wasn’t used to. Still, beat his first fencing lesson by a longshot.
“Oh, dear, I hope Daisy is okay… She… She would have known better to not have gone near that hole, right?”
Basil had quieted down a bit, the worst of the pain over, though there was a generous sore on his face and he had muttered a few things about dirt in his eyes. He was fine though… probably. He slowly got up to face the old woman; a hand remained on his face, the palm rubbing out an eye while the fingers massaged his forehead. There were a few things to say that came to mind, but that wouldn’t be a proper way to treat an elder. Ignoring the slight injustice done to his person, he figured he was in a good enough position to assist in what he thought he overheard. “Is that her name, ma’am? The missing girl’s?” He quickly looked over to see marines running to the mansion, but returned to the old woman with his inquiry almost immediately. He had no bounty (a slight pride emerged at the thought, particularly for his behavior) and the activities of marines held very little interest to Basil, save for maybe old war strategies in books but that was a hobby, this was important. He had a bad feeling at the mention of a hole, ‘that hole’. Chances were low, probably, but he had no idea how close it was. Perhaps it was worth a check if the girl didn’t turn up anywhere else.
The attack came swift and brutal. Basil had plenty of time (relatively) to glance over his shoulder, enough to see the old woman closing in on him, her clothes in pleats behind her as she rushed through the air. He was able to make her out first, unfortunately. Soon after turning, his face imprinted with shape of spade, a strong throw to push him back to the ground. A split-second later, he was already twisting on the ground with his hands on his face, yelling grunts into his palms and half a book cover. He never could take a punch, and that was a cheap shot he wasn’t expecting.
Oh sure, he had met with injury before, but it was a bad habit to avoid and block every attack sent his way. It meant small things like this would hurt all the more, stuff he wasn’t used to. Still, beat his first fencing lesson by a longshot.
“Oh, dear, I hope Daisy is okay… She… She would have known better to not have gone near that hole, right?”
Basil had quieted down a bit, the worst of the pain over, though there was a generous sore on his face and he had muttered a few things about dirt in his eyes. He was fine though… probably. He slowly got up to face the old woman; a hand remained on his face, the palm rubbing out an eye while the fingers massaged his forehead. There were a few things to say that came to mind, but that wouldn’t be a proper way to treat an elder. Ignoring the slight injustice done to his person, he figured he was in a good enough position to assist in what he thought he overheard. “Is that her name, ma’am? The missing girl’s?” He quickly looked over to see marines running to the mansion, but returned to the old woman with his inquiry almost immediately. He had no bounty (a slight pride emerged at the thought, particularly for his behavior) and the activities of marines held very little interest to Basil, save for maybe old war strategies in books but that was a hobby, this was important. He had a bad feeling at the mention of a hole, ‘that hole’. Chances were low, probably, but he had no idea how close it was. Perhaps it was worth a check if the girl didn’t turn up anywhere else.