Spring, Day 11, 513AV
Zantair paused, staring blankly at the entrance to Sharai's home, unsure how to go about what he wanted, questioning whether this was the right way to do it, was there a right way?. Speaking Jamouran crossed his mind, but only briefly, as if speaking her own language would somehow make him much more viable, much more willing, perhaps a better candidate? And thus he stood, just out of eyesight, glaring at the focus of his impertinent questions. Finally, with a shake of a head, he knocked, allowing a breif amount of time before letting himself and his words in.
"Excuse me? Sharai? I need a home, I'm willing to help, since I know you're definitely overworked, there's got to be something I can do. Even climbing to the tip top of the highest areas if I need to, I might need to learn some things though, but I'm sure an extra body is still a body that can help progress things along, right?" Zantair asked, spilling the word from his mouthly calmly, making sure that he didn't make a mistake. Almost as quickly had he finished, his calm demeanour began to fade, replaced by the dramatic. His speechbegan to flow quicker, almost doubling speed as his words began to descend and degrade to a mess of desperation and pleading.
"I just need a home, You understand don't you? You have a home, it's not like I'm asking for much, I just want a place to live, I'll do anything you need me to, I can help, I swear by the gods, I can be of some use--" Zantair quickly shut the word-expunging wind tunnel that was his mouth, realizing that it was hard for even him to understand what he was saying, let alone anyone else.
The silence that followed was by no means kind to Zantair's thoughts. The air about it only making him more nervous, and perhaps if only a brief moment, his calm expression changed. was it, Fear, that was hiding beneath it? It looked as if Zantair could bolt at any moment, like he was more scared of the outcome then what any person with a blade could do. |
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