(no subject)

Apr 13, 2003 17:56

I'm growing tired of playing the servant and beginning to feel my nerves rubbed raw from the primary reasons I've chosen to hunt in relative isolation for so long. They're everywhere, these blood and puss filled beasts. Their yammering is shrill, vapid and all the more disgusting for being intelligible. Dirty filth covered things, less tolerable than dumb animals for having some idea of what they are. Even their smell is too intrusively alive - more disturbing than the sickly sweet decay of a corpse. If I were alone I could hunt them down one by one until i was fully sated with their blood.

I could, but I have my quarry already - an exercise in self restraint more than anything else. If I were to kill here in Edoras they would become more alert and I could loose my chance. I cannot afford to loose focus if even just to pick off a grimy street urchin. Not here. I will be in Minas Tirith shortly in any case. It'll be larger, and safer to kill in. They have enough people moving though that they won't think to suspect Princess Hanild's loyal bodyguard.

Patience. Especially with the king recovering some of his spine. I have handled him gently as I would a newborn kitten and it is important to him in mind that if I slip with him, I could very easily end up with more than a scratch face. I can't afford to push him too fast or let him entirely recover his balance. So I watch, wait and continue with acting my part. My time will come soon enough.
Previous post Next post
Up