almar

Independent roleplaying blog for an original character.

[almaranla]

{ maemaanla }:

{ almaranla }:

      The wait is something that he had expected. Almar was not an impatient man, but he would call for her again should he have to, though in the next moment that passes, he wonders if she is sleeping. Large ears twitching as he registers the sound of movement upstairs.

             The little face of his daughter soon shows from around the corner, then Maema reveals herself, and Almar meets that expectant gaze, his smile growing softer.        He wonders if he should ask first, if Maema is hungry, but he supposes that will not be too big of a problem, so the question is not voiced.

            “I wish to leave the house.” His silky voice is gentle and kind, as it almost always is for his darling child. “I was thinking perhaps we could prepare some food and place it in the basket I made, and then leave for a while to a nice field where we may eat and play, and relax.”

   She waits patiently, staring up at him with wide, round and expectant eyes, whiskers twitching in an attempt to resist the itch she wants to scratch simply from standing still.

       Merely at the prospect of leaving, she immediately perks up. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy staying here,  not at all, but it’s no secret she loves getting out, as adventurous and curious-by-nature as she is (something born more out simply being a child, rather than something inherited from one of her parents). Especially as she bounces up and down on her toes, fingers balling into excited fists.

        “Do I—” She very nearly asks if she gets to go somewhere too, but Almar continues before she can finish, as if the answer was not obvious anyway. It’s all she can do but implode from excitement on the spot; picnics are her favorite.       “Yes!” The child all but squeals, tail curling tighter around her legs, skipping a little closer to him and tugging on his shirt. “What kind of food are we making? Where are we going? Are you going to show me how to make flower pins now?” 

     Maema's excitement brought Almar joy, for it was always something he loved to make his daughter happy. A grin parts his lips and displays his white and sharp teeth as the younger Shan'ye skips towards him and tugs on his shirt.

            "Something simple. The nearest park. And yes." Answering strings of questions was something Almar has gotten used to since raising a child, and it never bothered him to have to do it.      He bends a little, picking up his child and resting her on his hip as he makes his way into the kitchen.

            "What easy-to-prepare food would you like to bring with us, Maema?" Almar likes to leave food to Maema sometimes simply because children were not always satisfied with what their parent's chose, and he was at a loss.

[almaranla]

{ maemaanla } :

{ almaranla } :

           The day was too quiet.       Tranquility was among the things that Almar enjoyed, but the Shan’ye was looking for something more to do, while not having to sacrifice peacefulness. Sitting in his home with little more to occupy himself with other than reading has lost its charm for the afternoon, and so he had marked his place and put the book away, back onto it’s shelf, and moved into the kitchen.

     One was always hungry when bored, he found, his phantom stomach tugging at his brain, telling him he is hungry when he is not, though it had been a few hours since he had eaten, and he is almost always hungry. But he gains an idea, sparking as he takes note of the basket nearby, one that he had weaved recently, and a smile creeps up along his black-lined lips.

            “Maema.” Almar calls as he lifts his head, tail flicking once before he turns and wanders into the next room, his hands behind his back, expecting his daughter to have heard him and to come hear what he had to say, though there was some uncertainty settling upon him.

      Maema lays on her stomach, chest resting on a pillow as she bathes in the sunlight that washes over her from the large windows spanning the majority of one wall of her room, silk curtains wide open and a book held in her tiny hands, staring at the words intently. Even as they begin to blur over, the warm sunlight against her fur making her sleepy, eyes drooping shut and the book falling flat on the carpet from her hands.

      She almost drifts off before her father’s voice wafts through the house, one ear twitching as her larger eyes open in mere slits, pupils contracting for a moment before she yawns loudly and stretches out, fingers clutching at nothing, slowly pushing herself to her feet before giving one last stretch and scampering in the direction of the voice before he comes looking for her.

    “Daddy?” The smaller calls back in a softer, quieter voice, peeking just around the corner of the living room until she spots the sleeker Shan’ye standing in the center of the room, padding out from the corner of the next wall, looking up at him, tail curling around already fluffy legs. “What is it?”

      The wait is something that he had expected. Almar was not an impatient man, but he would call for her again should he have to, though in the next moment that passes, he wonders if she is sleeping. Large ears twitching as he registers the sound of movement upstairs.

             The little face of his daughter soon shows from around the corner, then Maema reveals herself, and Almar meets that expectant gaze, his smile growing softer.        He wonders if he should ask first, if Maema is hungry, but he supposes that will not be too big of a problem, so the question is not voiced.

            "I wish to leave the house." His silky voice is gentle and kind, as it almost always is for his darling child. "I was thinking perhaps we could prepare some food and place it in the basket I made, and then leave for a while to a nice field where we may eat and play, and relax."

[almaranla]

           The day was too quiet.       Tranquility was among the things that Almar enjoyed, but the Shan'ye was looking for something more to do, while not having to sacrifice peacefulness. Sitting in his home with little more to occupy himself with other than reading has lost it's charm for the afternoon, and so he had marked his place and put the book away, back onto it's shelf, and moved into the kitchen.

     One was always hungry when bored, he found, his phantom stomach tugging at his brain, telling him he is hungry when he is not, though it had been a few hours since he had eaten, and he is almost always hungry. But he gains an idea, sparking as he takes note of the basket nearby, one that he had woven recently, and a smile creeps up along his black-lined lips.

            "Maema." Almar calls as he lifts his head, tail flicking once before he turns and wanders into the next room, his hands behind his back, expecting his daughter to have heard him and to come hear what he had to say, though there was some uncertainty settling upon him.

[ladulcet]

original photography here :3

[colorize-my-life]

[silly-luv]