[Jolhur] Voice
It's hard to speak. The words just don't come out right anymore. He tries, but for the most part the words stay locked inside his head. At first they clamored to get out, tripping over each other whenever he opened his mouth. Now they're quiet, and he chooses carefully the few that he sends out to carry his meaning.
Everything's quieter now. His hearing's still sharp, but the noise of the village fades away when he forgets to listen for it. The sea on the sand, wind scraping over the roofs and shaking the branches, the distant rumble of rain that never manages to cross the mountains from Feralas-- those are what he hears, the true sounds.
He'd leave the village if he could, but Kessota is here, as are the oaths that bind him to the little tribe. The buildings close in around him like the mine in Kezan and the way that woman clings-- as if she owns him-- stirs up old fears again. The Horde presses down upon them, and meanwhile the old man's wife runs mad with power. He'd expected Hazbez to challenge her weeks ago, but the grey troll is weaker-willed than any of them had thought.
He knows what he should do. They need a strong leader, not a foolish little girl. There's no doubt in his mind that he'd best the 'chieftess' in a fight, flamecaster though she may be, but he has little desire to try. It's not the people. He does care for them, mostly, and he thinks he understands them (except the halfbreed, he's given up on trying to reason her out). He's reasonably sure he'd be good for them, even with his difficulty speaking. He can write, he'd make it work.
He hesitates mainly for his own sake. If he were to challenge her, if he were to win, it would mean giving up who he is for the sake of the tribe. He would be a leader first, a troll second, and himself only in private. He's seen what it can do to one like him, and he doesn't want it. He's happier now than he's ever been, and the thought of losing that tears at his chest.
He tells himself that he's spent the past year learning to be selfish, to listen to his instincts and take what he wants. There could be no better time to apply that lesson than the present.
It's not right, he knows it's not right, but at the moment he is trying very hard not to care.
Everything's quieter now. His hearing's still sharp, but the noise of the village fades away when he forgets to listen for it. The sea on the sand, wind scraping over the roofs and shaking the branches, the distant rumble of rain that never manages to cross the mountains from Feralas-- those are what he hears, the true sounds.
He'd leave the village if he could, but Kessota is here, as are the oaths that bind him to the little tribe. The buildings close in around him like the mine in Kezan and the way that woman clings-- as if she owns him-- stirs up old fears again. The Horde presses down upon them, and meanwhile the old man's wife runs mad with power. He'd expected Hazbez to challenge her weeks ago, but the grey troll is weaker-willed than any of them had thought.
He knows what he should do. They need a strong leader, not a foolish little girl. There's no doubt in his mind that he'd best the 'chieftess' in a fight, flamecaster though she may be, but he has little desire to try. It's not the people. He does care for them, mostly, and he thinks he understands them (except the halfbreed, he's given up on trying to reason her out). He's reasonably sure he'd be good for them, even with his difficulty speaking. He can write, he'd make it work.
He hesitates mainly for his own sake. If he were to challenge her, if he were to win, it would mean giving up who he is for the sake of the tribe. He would be a leader first, a troll second, and himself only in private. He's seen what it can do to one like him, and he doesn't want it. He's happier now than he's ever been, and the thought of losing that tears at his chest.
He tells himself that he's spent the past year learning to be selfish, to listen to his instincts and take what he wants. There could be no better time to apply that lesson than the present.
It's not right, he knows it's not right, but at the moment he is trying very hard not to care.