puddles
{ @udxceph }
♞ - Jack Seymour was not the type to cry and moan about every little bump and scrape dealt in the line of duty. Surely, Her Majesty would not tolerate such a nuisance of a subject for long even if he did. However, the rapscallion would gladly search out a remedy for someone else.
Breath harsh and ragged, the willowy man paused before the healer, hands on knobby knees and skin flushed. Finally, a set of mismatched eyes stared up while he struggled to form words in between gulps of oxygen. “S-some rose balm, please.” Straightening up, with what definitely sounded like a creak to over-sized ears, callused digits brushed back damp mahogany strands from the knave’s flushed face. “Sorry, it was a bit longer of a jaunt than I’d expected.”
Since he’d taken up his little quest, the Seymour heir had been doing all sorts of things like this to provide his sovereign with a better class of subjects. Not once did he regret such actions either, for there was no one more deserving of his best efforts and a proper land for her dominion than the Red Queen. The nimble fingers that withdrew a small coin purse from his pocket bore the calluses of every effort dedicated to his liege and the contents of teeth flashed at the other, in an effort to hurry business along, were gladly offered up for someone else’s sake.
