(no subject)
FotD 3/26/09 - Propinquity
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260
“A temple?” said Shasa, lingering in the doorway.
Kairn prodded her through, the sturdy door weighing heavily against his shoulder. “You need to rest,” he said. “We both do. Out of the rain.”
“But-” said Shasa, the door sliding shut behind them with a resounding thud that echoed through the small, round chamber.
“It has a roof,” said Kairn. “That’s all we need.” He peeled his sodden cloak from his back while his sister made her way to the altar, a trail of water spreading in her wake as it dripped from her clothes.
She sank to her knees before the statue, turning to him with a frown. “We have nothing to offer.”
Kairn paused, about to wring the water from his cloak, and let the thing fall limp in his grasp with a nervous glance to the puddle forming beneath it. “I’m sure they will understand,” he said. “I think they owe us at least that much.”
Shasa bowed her head, finger tracing the five points of the star in the air before her as she uttered a soft prayer. “Odd,” she said, “that there would be a temple here, when there’s not been a sign of civilization for days.”
That, he thought, as he cast a slow look over the room, was nothing in light of the fact that there were six, yes six, shrines set around the perimeter. His eyes settled on the rough hewn one to the rear, a shudder passing through him.
“Kairn?”
“Yes?“ He tore his gaze from the statue with a shake of his head.
Shasa cast him a stern gaze, one brow sharply raised. “I know we don’t have any offerings, but I do hope you at least intend to pray.”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” he said, hurrying to her side.
Main Entry
Timeframe : 1260
“A temple?” said Shasa, lingering in the doorway.
Kairn prodded her through, the sturdy door weighing heavily against his shoulder. “You need to rest,” he said. “We both do. Out of the rain.”
“But-” said Shasa, the door sliding shut behind them with a resounding thud that echoed through the small, round chamber.
“It has a roof,” said Kairn. “That’s all we need.” He peeled his sodden cloak from his back while his sister made her way to the altar, a trail of water spreading in her wake as it dripped from her clothes.
She sank to her knees before the statue, turning to him with a frown. “We have nothing to offer.”
Kairn paused, about to wring the water from his cloak, and let the thing fall limp in his grasp with a nervous glance to the puddle forming beneath it. “I’m sure they will understand,” he said. “I think they owe us at least that much.”
Shasa bowed her head, finger tracing the five points of the star in the air before her as she uttered a soft prayer. “Odd,” she said, “that there would be a temple here, when there’s not been a sign of civilization for days.”
That, he thought, as he cast a slow look over the room, was nothing in light of the fact that there were six, yes six, shrines set around the perimeter. His eyes settled on the rough hewn one to the rear, a shudder passing through him.
“Kairn?”
“Yes?“ He tore his gaze from the statue with a shake of his head.
Shasa cast him a stern gaze, one brow sharply raised. “I know we don’t have any offerings, but I do hope you at least intend to pray.”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” he said, hurrying to her side.