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[eyrienprince]

Lucivar is practicing again.

The snow isn't melted and there's absolutely no reason for him to be outside, but he is, practicing with almost frenetic energy, wings half spread and agitation and anger rolling off him in waves. He frowns at his hands as he moves swiftly through the motions, deep in his own thoughts.

Comments

[topofadmiration]

She's realized, by now, that Lucivar practices so when he's frustrated. So she sits and waits, watching until he's finished, or at least until he notices her.

[eyrienprince]

He notices her right away, but waits to greet her until he's expended some nervous energy and vanishes the weapon. She might notice that he's not wearing a shirt again, despite the fact that he told her he would.

He gives her a half smile. "Hullo, Miranda."

[topofadmiration]

She does, of course, and fixes him with her sternest look. "Thou didst promise, sir."

[eyrienprince]

He looks a bit sheepish. "Oh - I'm sorry. I didn't intend to break my promise." He calls in a shirt and tugs it on, then holds out his arms for inspection. "Better?"

[sweariwontdie]

Watching Lucivar is an experience. All that power and grace almost takes his breath away. Armand, bundled in his cloak, sits on a conspicuously placed tree trunk to watch as Lucivar practices.

[eyrienprince]

He continues for some time before pausing and turning around, setting the end of the stick on the ground and looking carefully at Armand, silent for the moment, still looking pensive and a bit worried.

[sweariwontdie]

Now that he has his attention, Armand waves. "Why the long face?"

[eyrienprince]

Lucivar gives a half smile and a wave back. "I don't like our newest arrival. In the least."