“Yes the horse! He’s, he’s sturdy!”
Why was describing an animal he owned becoming so undignified in every way possible.
“I just named him that because he was giving me trouble—-oh…”
That really didn’t sound very dignified either…in fact he imagined Yuri would be extremely amused at Flynn’s antics. There was something
about naming your animals after people in your life that implied that Flynn had more affinity towards others than he cared to openly state. Therefore it would be a day he would rue if Yuri ever uncovered he had been named after a war horse.
Either way the conversation was going to crash into a field filled with landmines of excuses, most of them involving how Yuri was always causing him trouble, and filled with undesirable antics. None of them really hitting the source.
“I also brought some food! From the palace, I’m sure you don’t mind strawberries, it’s not often Halure gets them, they are being produced from further off and stored with care at the moment, I believe Master Ioder has a sore spot for them.”
Because aversion of topics, whenever Yuri was involved, was healthy.
—-( I hope you don’t mind I time skip onto later that night )—-
After taking time to store Yuri away in the shelter of the Inn’s warehouse where they had suitable bedding food and water, the Commandant returned to Estelle’s house, finding it just as quaint as was to be expected. Books upon books lining the shelves, implying she was so literately that she had piled herself into a literate library- literally.
Flynn found himself immediately at ease, and he couldn’t help but notice the arrangement of colors, suiting her general dress ware. Everything was pristine and elegant and tidy and organized.
And it felt, overwhelmingly refined yet simultaneously unique and quaint.
“It is pleasing to see your tastes are still suited to a more alluring nature, I am in love with what you have dedicated your time to doing here.”
His fingertips were scanning the spines of book after book lined on shelves, wondering how she ever found the time to read, and reminding himself he too was not without this same hobby- of collecting and storing away knowledge in order to invest in a well of citation.
“I remember you stated in your last letter that you were coming along well with your writing?”
He was unpacking a few strawberries, having washed them off in the river, somehow finding the idea of Halure’s vast water unacceptable, you could get sick you know!
