#thestutteringbosmer

[lurkintheshadows]

The Stuttering Bosmer

thestutteringbosmer started following you

"Oh? A new face in the guild?" Madeline flashed a friendly grin, her red and black cowl lowered for the time being while she practiced her lockpicking in the cistern. Not that she needed to practice; her gentle, dexterous fingers had not broken a pick for years. She did it for the fun of it, and enjoyed feeling the light taps and clicks of tumblers rising and falling. "Pleasure to meet you." She stood from her kneeling position in front of the master level locked chest before her, holding out a hand towards the stranger for a handshake. "I am Madeline of Wayrest. Which Madeline of Wayrest is something you'll have to find out for yourself." Her sharp canines glinted as the dim glow of her eyes had a playful look to them.

[loyalindoril-archive-blog]

thestutteringbosmer started following you

The Vampire looked over the small bosmer that approached him. The boy's warpaint caught his eye, making him curious.

A Brother...? Perhaps not, he thought. After all, not every single person who sported a handprint somewhere meant it for the Brotherhood.

"Can I help you, sera?" he asked, his voice curious.

[knightbreed175games]

[[Thank you for the follow.]]

ooc

[lostnord]

thestutteringbosmer started following you

Frithjofr passed the Bosmer on the road and got a whole five paces before, without warning, he started walking backwards. He gave Sketch a long look, and only got round to smiling and waving once that was finished.

'Well met,' he said cheerfully. 'Did you know you got a hand on your face?'

[vilepuppetry]

thestutteringbosmer started following you

The Bosmer almost managed to pass unnoticed along the road. Fria was absorbed in the task of painting a face onto the puppet in her lap, flicking the horsehair brush between its wooden head and a bowl of crushed mountain flower paste beside her. If she hadn't happened to glance up between strokes, Sketch might have escaped her notice entirely.

As it was, she hesitated, knocking the brush against her chin and not bothering to hide her stare, before suddenly breaking into a smile. As the brush went down again, painting a new shape onto the puppet's cheek, she called,

'Hail, traveller. A fine day, wouldn't you say so?'

An interesting definition of a fine day. There was a hint of snow in the air and frost on the grass, but Fria's smile, at least, was warm.