Sixth day of Summer, 508 A.V.
Courtship. What exactly was courtship?
Meville understood that it was something that happened between two people involving a lot of talking and absolutely no sexual intercourse. Being a wild, fifteen year old boy, the prospect of something like "courtship" wasn't really at the top of his list of things to do. If anything, it was somewhere near the bottom next to bathing his mother and getting a nasty infection in a wound. So, with courtship so very low upon his life schedule, he questioned for the thousandth time why he was going to go do just that. For the one thousand and first time, the image of a Vantha woman knocking upon his door asking to speak with his father was played back in his mind. What exactly had prompted the Snowsong woman to approach Meville's father was beyond him. He had, for the most part, never seen his father leave the cabin where they lived in the Warrens. It only made the woman's visit all the more confusing.
Yet, she had come, and with her, she had brought the prospect of something that had enticed his father enough that Meville was sent off to court the young Svasra. Ordinarily, had it been anyone but his father giving the command, Meville would have shrugged it off with a peal of impish laughter and a scrambling of feet to propel him off into the snowy pathways of Avanthal. This, however, was anything but ordinary. What his father commanded him to do, Meville did without question. At least, without question to his father's face. He certainly had no difficulty finding a myriad of different ways to express his frustration and confusion regarding his current situation now that he was no longer in the presence of his stoic paternal figure.
He knew where to go and who to ask for, but short of that... Meville had no idea what he'd been tossed into. The Snowsong hold was filled with artsy people, so it didn't really help make him feel any better that his greatest artistic achievement was a two headed snowman with fish heads for eyes. As he walked through the snow, he nervously chewed on his lower lip, glancing at the various faces of the people he passed by with slightly-wider-than-usual bright blue eyes. No one really seemed that interested in the young blonde and passed him without more than a nod or a raised brow. Finding no comfort in the faces of strangers, Meville took it upon himself to find it through whistling.
He was an atrocious whistler, mainly due to the fact that it sounded more like he was imitating a crude noise, rather then creating a shrill note with air passing through puckered lips. It was amusing, at least, and he happily raspberried his way into the Snowsong hold before he'd even realized he'd arrived. Once inside the conglomerate of buidlings, Meville was once more reminded of how little he wanted to be there. His eyes scanned the people around him, trying to pick out someone who might help him find wherever he was supposed to go. An older woman calmly sweeping the floor a little distance ahead seemed as good a mark as any, so Meville approached her with his customary toothy grin and a little wave.
"Where Svasra live?"
The woman raised an eyebrow at him, as most Vantha did when they heard him speak their language. She responded with her own eloquent flow of the musical language gesturing in a particular direction. Meville was fairly certain she'd called his Vani "lacking" and then gave him directions to her home. He gave the woman a respectful bow of his head before moving off in the direction she'd indicated. Somehow, after a few more questions asked to various strangers, Meville arrived at the place he believed Svarsa and her family resided.
For a few, brief moments, Meville considered turning around a leaving. Had the decision been left to him, perhaps he would have had the door not been swung open with the happy sounds of Svarsa's mother welcoming him into her home. Gods. There could not have been a more terrifying way to greet the nervous, potential suitor for your daughter than throwing a barrage of foreign language directly at his face and expecting something in return. Meville just nodded enthusiastically and smiled, which was apparently enough for the woman as she laughed and directed him to sit upon one of the lounges in their common area.
There was another person sitting there, looking rather a lot like Meville felt. She was pretty, to say the least, but that only made Meville feel all the more uncomfortable. They were a good distance apart, so instead of moving closer to bridge the gap and, perhaps, assuage a bit of the tense atmosphere, Meville chose instead to sort of awkwardly shout across the room in his clumsy Vani. "Svarsa look nice."
...Oh gods.
Little OOC note for you: Svarsa's mother was aware that Mev's dad came from outside of Avanthal. If it makes sense, I was thinking she wanted Mev to be a kind of "half-way" exotic friend for her to keep her in Avanthal.
Common | Vani
