27th of Fall, 512 A.V.
Just outside of Zeltiva
Early. Real early.
Laying there... He laid there... Aaaaall night.
The murder was laying in his simple bed at the Grotto, just laying there. He hadn't been getting much sleep at all these past few sundowns and last night wasn't any better. You could probably say that the blonde was utterly...lost. He was confused, angered, saddened, and rather forlorn.
Confused because of the fact he was able to pull of such an act. He couldn't even understand how he even thought of it and acted on it without a second thought and no defiance at all. Confused as to how he could have just taken a life and watched with a look of amusement on his face. Angered for the same reasons. Gale was also angered by the knowledge of who his father was. His own father encouraging him to do so. Saddened to know that a women who loved the sailor would never see or hear him again and it was his fault. Forlorn because he has no one to really trust anymore. Anyone he can trust just uses him making things worse. He had no idea what to do anymore.
Laying on his side, Gale turned his head to bury it into the bed and pillow. The whole murder was tearing him apart and making him start from scratch again, making the artist even more pathetic then he already was. He was a mess inside and out and it can be seen clearly with the tired look in his eyes and hesitant actions. Maybe he should just gi-
No, that was not going to happen. He wasn't going to try that again. One attempt was enough. He just needed to hold onto what he had left. Starting with going outside of the city and visiting someone who would not be very proud of his actions if she were here today.
Gale huffed into the pillow before pushing himself up and out of the bed. The thief ran a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face and looked around for anything he would need. He was bringing his sketchbook and charcoal, of course. The blonde went over to his desk and picked the two up and looked around the room again for anything else he might want. Gale bit the inside of his cheek in thought. He didn't really feel like doing anything today like selling a painting so he supposed he could stay longer then usual. He would probably get hungry though. He'll get something while he is heading out. He would need his bag though if he was going to pack something other then his book.
Gale when over to his bag in the corner, which he hardly ever used, and picked it up. He heard a hallow and light thunk of something hitting the ground and he glanced at the corner, seeing the wooden flute laying in the bags place. He had forgotten all about it, it being stuffed behind the back for so long. The thief stooped down and picked it up. It was lighter then he remembered. Since he was planning on staying out there for a while maybe he could learn how to play finally.As long as he didn't go too far out then he should probably be fine with the noise attracting animals and whatnot. He wouldn't want to ruin people's ears with the horrible playing after all. He would need his music book though if he was going to learn anything specific.
Gale placed the pack and the flute on the bed and looked around for it, wondering where he had put it. Nope, not in his desk. He found it under some papers and pictures in his "artistic" corner of the room where all of his finished and unfinished pictures went. He put it in the backpack and the sketchbook followed. Pulling it on his back, he grabbed the flute and looked at it for a few moments, placing his fingers on the holes, trying to recall how Hana held it when she played it. He shrugged and figured he would find out in a bit.
Heading out, Gale got something simple that he could bring along to eat, being just nuts. He messed with the instrument as he walked around Zeltiva and finally out. Walking along the familiar settings till he reached his destination. The path Gale took to the homemade grave was starting to turn into an actual path, the grass almost always staying apart for the small walkway of sorts and the dirt starting to move to the sides, out of the way of the pair of feet walking along the route every morning. The path staying relatively straight till a few trees popped up and it weaved through them a little ways before stopping in a clearing of sorts. If you looked through the patch of trees, back down the path taken, Zeltiva could still be seen so it wasn't that long of a walk, but a walk at the least.
The artist sat down, sliding the backpack off his back and placing it next to him, leaning against a tree trunk and looked at the rock used as a gravestone and the mound of dirt. He placed the flute in his laps and looked at the mound for a few ticks with a blank face before sighing. "I suppose I'm back." He said simply, saying it softly so it was more to himself then anyone else, like it really was. "Can't remember how to hold this." He said with a single chuckle, placing his fingers awkwardly on the holes of the flute once again. "You'd probably be scolding me right now, huh? Never was able to figure it out. Hm." He looked at his hands holding the flute before setting it down in his lap once again. "But I'll try , I suppose. Have nothing better to do." His gaze starring at his lap for a few moments. He suddenly pulled the bag towards him again and pulled out the music book. "I guess this'll help somewhat." He flipped it open to the first page. He'd be terrible but he won't get any better if he doesn't try, right?
Ledger-1GM for lb of Chestnuts
Just outside of Zeltiva
Early. Real early.
Laying there... He laid there... Aaaaall night.
The murder was laying in his simple bed at the Grotto, just laying there. He hadn't been getting much sleep at all these past few sundowns and last night wasn't any better. You could probably say that the blonde was utterly...lost. He was confused, angered, saddened, and rather forlorn.
Confused because of the fact he was able to pull of such an act. He couldn't even understand how he even thought of it and acted on it without a second thought and no defiance at all. Confused as to how he could have just taken a life and watched with a look of amusement on his face. Angered for the same reasons. Gale was also angered by the knowledge of who his father was. His own father encouraging him to do so. Saddened to know that a women who loved the sailor would never see or hear him again and it was his fault. Forlorn because he has no one to really trust anymore. Anyone he can trust just uses him making things worse. He had no idea what to do anymore.
Laying on his side, Gale turned his head to bury it into the bed and pillow. The whole murder was tearing him apart and making him start from scratch again, making the artist even more pathetic then he already was. He was a mess inside and out and it can be seen clearly with the tired look in his eyes and hesitant actions. Maybe he should just gi-
No, that was not going to happen. He wasn't going to try that again. One attempt was enough. He just needed to hold onto what he had left. Starting with going outside of the city and visiting someone who would not be very proud of his actions if she were here today.
Gale huffed into the pillow before pushing himself up and out of the bed. The thief ran a hand through his hair to pull it out of his face and looked around for anything he would need. He was bringing his sketchbook and charcoal, of course. The blonde went over to his desk and picked the two up and looked around the room again for anything else he might want. Gale bit the inside of his cheek in thought. He didn't really feel like doing anything today like selling a painting so he supposed he could stay longer then usual. He would probably get hungry though. He'll get something while he is heading out. He would need his bag though if he was going to pack something other then his book.
Gale when over to his bag in the corner, which he hardly ever used, and picked it up. He heard a hallow and light thunk of something hitting the ground and he glanced at the corner, seeing the wooden flute laying in the bags place. He had forgotten all about it, it being stuffed behind the back for so long. The thief stooped down and picked it up. It was lighter then he remembered. Since he was planning on staying out there for a while maybe he could learn how to play finally.As long as he didn't go too far out then he should probably be fine with the noise attracting animals and whatnot. He wouldn't want to ruin people's ears with the horrible playing after all. He would need his music book though if he was going to learn anything specific.
Gale placed the pack and the flute on the bed and looked around for it, wondering where he had put it. Nope, not in his desk. He found it under some papers and pictures in his "artistic" corner of the room where all of his finished and unfinished pictures went. He put it in the backpack and the sketchbook followed. Pulling it on his back, he grabbed the flute and looked at it for a few moments, placing his fingers on the holes, trying to recall how Hana held it when she played it. He shrugged and figured he would find out in a bit.
Heading out, Gale got something simple that he could bring along to eat, being just nuts. He messed with the instrument as he walked around Zeltiva and finally out. Walking along the familiar settings till he reached his destination. The path Gale took to the homemade grave was starting to turn into an actual path, the grass almost always staying apart for the small walkway of sorts and the dirt starting to move to the sides, out of the way of the pair of feet walking along the route every morning. The path staying relatively straight till a few trees popped up and it weaved through them a little ways before stopping in a clearing of sorts. If you looked through the patch of trees, back down the path taken, Zeltiva could still be seen so it wasn't that long of a walk, but a walk at the least.
The artist sat down, sliding the backpack off his back and placing it next to him, leaning against a tree trunk and looked at the rock used as a gravestone and the mound of dirt. He placed the flute in his laps and looked at the mound for a few ticks with a blank face before sighing. "I suppose I'm back." He said simply, saying it softly so it was more to himself then anyone else, like it really was. "Can't remember how to hold this." He said with a single chuckle, placing his fingers awkwardly on the holes of the flute once again. "You'd probably be scolding me right now, huh? Never was able to figure it out. Hm." He looked at his hands holding the flute before setting it down in his lap once again. "But I'll try , I suppose. Have nothing better to do." His gaze starring at his lap for a few moments. He suddenly pulled the bag towards him again and pulled out the music book. "I guess this'll help somewhat." He flipped it open to the first page. He'd be terrible but he won't get any better if he doesn't try, right?
Ledger-1GM for lb of Chestnuts
