{ @keenandfulloftricks }
-{♚}- Strained eyes were glued to the yellowed pages of the book resting in his lap. Messy handwriting sprawled across the parchment. Faded, worn, and stained with time. Having seen about just as many fights as it master, but clearly showing it’s age. Ink smudged across the countless words that he could barely even hope to make out, and a red liquid soaked through many of the thin sheets. Leaving some that were plastered together with little hope of being peeled apart. Only adding to the growing frustration that was brewing in the back of Robin’s mind, as he glared at the book.
A groan slipped from his throat, and he titled his head back. A hand yanking away from the book to press his thumb and forefinger into his aching forehead, ad if doing so would somehow relieve him of all of the stress that he had accumulated in the past few minutes of flipping through the abused book had managed to give to the burden he already carried. It didn’t, and all he could do was him softly, as his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
This book was quickly becoming his least favorite possession, not that he had much to begin with, but if hadn’t been one of the first memories he could recall, he might have tossed it by now. But he couldn’t being himself to do so. When he had come to in that field; alone, this damnable collection of scribbles has been stowed away in the depths of his cloak, and it had been driving him near mad ever since. He had never been able to make sense of its contents, and they were difficult to read anyway due to all of the damage it had endured, as well.
It was a pointless effort made out of desperation, but he was mere seconds away from hurling the book into the next onlooker that gawked at him. Fixed on the stairs of one of the town’s most popular inn’s while making awkward faces at the text held tightly in his hand, well, he must have been a bit of a sight. But the problem with easy jobs, such as playing guard dog to the inn for a handful of days thanks to rumors of thieves wandering around, was that they tended to be terrible boring. The benefits; however, were too much to resist. Having a bed to sleep in was a gift for sore feet, and a back that had spent too many nights in a row sleeping in a ditch.
Hearing the soft clicking of boots at the bottom of the staircase, he tore his gaze away from the book while snapping it shut. A frown slowly crawling onto his lips, as he shoved the book back into the depths of his cloak where, as far as he was concerned, it should probably stay. His patience having been thoroughly tried today, he couldn’t have been bothered to greet the individual in a remotely pleasant manner.
“What do you want?” It was truly a wonder how he had managed to maintain this job after the first day with his lovely way of speaking to potential customers.
