(no subject)
It begins, really, as any good and responsible royal journey should - in what is assuredly the complete, opposite direction of responsibility.
For example:
"Which way - hypothetically, of course - would we want to be going if we were on the way to Stormhold?"
"Well, if we turn right here, I'm pretty sure that -"
"Very good, left it is then!"
It really is terribly convenient, every once and a while, to have a boyf- a lov- a Tristran that simply knows which way will suit for their purposes at any given time. Especially when one considers that it's awfully difficult to stop and ask for directions when one is in the middle of nowhere.
And tree sprites?
Are terrible liars.
So it begins in the right wrong direction and it continues for sometime - until Yvaine is hot and her legs are sore and the tip of her nose is growing oddly pink from the sun and the soft tinkling of the stream off to the side begins to curl her lips upward in a decidedly troublesome manner under the shade of her hair.
For example:
"Which way - hypothetically, of course - would we want to be going if we were on the way to Stormhold?"
"Well, if we turn right here, I'm pretty sure that -"
"Very good, left it is then!"
It really is terribly convenient, every once and a while, to have a boyf- a lov- a Tristran that simply knows which way will suit for their purposes at any given time. Especially when one considers that it's awfully difficult to stop and ask for directions when one is in the middle of nowhere.
And tree sprites?
Are terrible liars.
So it begins in the right wrong direction and it continues for sometime - until Yvaine is hot and her legs are sore and the tip of her nose is growing oddly pink from the sun and the soft tinkling of the stream off to the side begins to curl her lips upward in a decidedly troublesome manner under the shade of her hair.