#krichur

[adatrox]

‘   how is it you always smell of flowers?   ’

@krichur

[breniarchive-blog]

          Allowing that question to die of exposure was an attractive course of action. Sparing the Nihter a glance, and perhaps even walking away ------ a fine alternative to traversing this wild and nigh enchanted path. But Thranduil refuses to cede where this haughty creature is concerned. Pride and age have him assembling a neutral - voiced response with no more than a breath of pause and upturn of the ear. 

          “Not from willful and otherwise impulsive children.” 

@krichur ------ CONT.

[breniarchive-blog]

          So silent is the wood and so thought-drowned are his eyes that the unnatural breadth and depth of the shadows high above his private quarters nigh go unattended. In time, the scratch of his quill upon vellum ( another year, another map to pen ) grants itself pause for the ear he turns toward the vaulted stone, and further still, the sky. He knows who joins him. 

          “An early hour for the likes of you.” No remark for the lack of decency. This is his place of rest, and he ------ crownless, bootless, robes fallen in a loose plunge ------ is unabashed.

@krichur.