[Flashback] Ribbons in Her Hair - Desmus/Open?

[Meera]

DAY 15 - SPRING 505 - Meera is 12 yrs old

Location: Endrykas

Who: Desmus

As per usual, Meera's braids were in rough shape. She had gone far too long with out a proper combing, and her sisters were far too busy lately to help the young girl of a third wife without windmark. It suited Meera perfectly to have loose braids and half her hair falling down her back. Meera lacked the patience or dexterity to braid her own hair and she was leaving town with Patros in another phase of the moon, and when traveling it made little difference to him how her hair was braided. Meera was chasing after a loose ribbon that had fallen from her hair and into the wind. Meera could not typically be called a normal girl - with dirt on her face and mud on her clothes she was most used to be called a boy than a girl, and Meera preferred that. She was small of frame and built like a stick, slowing growing into her gender that she could still be thought of as androgynous. Meera even wore breeches instead of skirts, but ribbons in fancy dyes were her one vice. The ribbon she was chasing on this early, muddy Spring morning happened to be a peculiar shade of purple, her favourite colour. It caught the light sometimes that the shade almost looked blue, and the ribbon was still new that it had a shine. It was currently her favourite ribbon, and was grateful that the wind had not let it fall to the mud.

The trailing purple bumped into a man's backside and wrapped around his large frame, and Meera shifted her run to sneak past him with out disrupting. The gust of wind renewed moments before it was to brush along the wet ground and it teased her in the sunshine, still displaying its purple-blue. Meera grew frustrated and she stepped up her run, wishing this could all be much easier if she had a horse, but that thought brought other irritable memories to the fore.

The ribbon represented so much to Meera, who was never truly allowed many luxuries being unmarked, and if it wasn't for her stance as a dead Ankal's daughter - or so she was told - she wouldn't be allowed braids to begin with. The purple-blue string gave her hope that one day she could have more ribbons, and one day she might be a first wife, with a true family of her own.

Her hand reached out to swipe at the teasing accessory once she thought she was close enough and it slipped through her thin fingers, falling into the mud gently. Meera slowed her run, her eyes focused on the ribbon on the ground, thinking maybe if she was gentle she could save it from ruin. She hadn't been watching what was truly in front of her face, and she had passed the ribbon by a step as she slowed. She ran directly into a tall man and in her slippery, muddy shoes, the force caused her feet to fly out from underneath her and she fell back, promptly squishing the ribbon into the mud.

[Desmus Marrudius]

Desmus Marridius-Age:25

Spring was always a lively time for Endrykas. Different pavilions from.different clan all gathered in the same place share their culture and their stories. The elders drank their wine and smoked their pipes as the way he'd the younglings play around the fire. Desmus was here with his father. It was a tradition to visit Endrykas in the spring for them but it seemed like Desmus' father had become preoccupied telling the other old ones his war stories. This left Desmus with much wanted freedom as his walked the muddy and windy byways.

It was only after around ten minutes of wandering that he felt an unexpected force on his backside that almost sent him toppling over into the mud. He angrily turned but his anger faded when he saw the person responsible for this. It was a young girl who hadn't been as lucky as Desmus and was now sitting in the mud. Desmus looked at her and outstretched his hand" Are you ok young one!" He said with a gentle smile.

[Meera]

Young Meera looked up at the tall man. Nerves balled up in her stomach when her dark eyes fell upon his scars on his face. He had long brown hair, lightened in the sun and his chin was furry with a narrow beard. She sat examining him with her rear, hands and backs of her legs caked in mud. The young blonde adjusted her loose braids, bringing mud to her hair, all the while still staring at this strange man.

The smell of tobacco was pungent as she leaned towards him, bringing leverage to her feet to stand without his help. Patros was going to string her up and drag her behind his horse when he saw how badly she soiled her clothes with mud, and even the ribbon, too.

She turned slowly, careful not to lose her balance once again, and bent down to pick up the muddy ribbon. Its colour was not even apparent it was so thoroughly covered. She ran the thin ribbon between two fingers to scrape off the dirt. At a loss for words, she turned to the man that had accidentally caused her to fall with sad eyes, showing him the purple-brown ribbon.