Memories by scent - accepting
Such a sweet aroma it is that graces the Knight’s senses; something that seemed to SPARK a light in his eyes if only for the briefest of moments. A welling in his chest he doesn’t quite understand causes his throat to lock and an unneeded breath to catch, plated fingers clawing now at the covered flesh of his neck, as if that alone could cut out the oddity sneaking upon him.
A thought graces his mind–…no, a memory, a vision of humanity he had long since forgotten. The aroma lingers, it travels through the old, worn wood of the creaking home, something so light, so sweet, that it riles the boy from very sleep itself. Clouded eyes open, they scan, and they search for the source, nose jutted in the air as if he was some mutt hunting down a fresh meal. Floorboards beneath his feet creak with each step down the old stairwell, golden blond bangs being pushed from tired eyes to grant him vision as to not trip over his own tired legs.
With a quiet step does he reach the bottom, almost drifting through the small home and toward the kitchen; the smell growing stronger with each step nearer. He peeks, curious green eyes scouring the seemingly empty kitchen, confident steps then taken in stride to pass the entryway, nose still guiding the young elf to the source of the smell. Freshly baked and still lingering with warmth caramel squares sat stacked side by side; each golden piece decorated with thin layers of chocolate and white frosting, a true masterpiece to the eye. Fingers reach out, plucking one of the fresh treats from the pan and taking a gracious bite from such, the sweet practically melting in his mouth and causing the boy to hum in delight.
Her voice rings through his ears, soft, welcoming, and it causes the boy to look up; mouth shut with sticky caramel, yet he somehow still manages up a smile to the elder woman who enters with a cloth in hand to dry washed palms. Weathered features gaze down at her offspring, and a pair of matching green eyes soften; lips soon apart with gentle laughter.
“I was going to surprise you, but it looks as if you sniffed them out on your own.”
Swallowing his mouthful of the treat the boy uses the back of his hand to wipe his lips, and while his features grew sheepish his voice said otherwise; nothing but smooth and absolute, barely a touch of emotion found.
“They are wonderful, Mother.”