Frustrated with the present, Calgara had opted for an escape to a past that he'd long left behind. He'd watched to make sure that Robin had not entered the library before he stepped in and found a place to sit. Norland's logbook was held gingerly in his hand, but he laid it out carefully after he'd lit a lamp.
The past few hours had been uneventful and silent, and he had forced himself to focus on the neatly scrawled words on the pages, trying to forget the entire past week. His brow was furrowed; he was so intent upon the book that he did not hear the sounds of footsteps coming toward the door.
"Hm?"
Calgara looked up as the door opened with a vaguely inquisitive expression, but it faded quickly as Robin entered the room. He gave her a careful expression, but did not hide he fact that his eyes trailed her before he ascended her ladder into her secret library.
Once she had vanished, Calgara watched the opening for a moment before he growled quietly to himself in frustration and looked back down at Norland's words. He wanted to pound his fist on the table, but knew better than to cause more problems.
Norland had just began to talk about the need for seeking out and felling all trees infected with Tree Fever on Jaya in his log. There were brief mentions here and there of the work being done in the forests, but most of the log was attributed to the experiences he had among the villagers; Calgara himself made regular appearances in his entries.
But suddenly, the jovial tone of Norland's rhetoric changed drastically to confusion. He asked many questions, most imposing of all of them the question as to why Calgara had turned so suddenly hostile. Norland could not fathom what he had done to incur his friend's wrath, and had even asked him about it to only receive a spear grazing his cheek.
Calgara gritted his teeth as he read this. In retrospect, his ire had been his undoing. Never again did he see his best friend after that, their last words shouted over an expanse of sea. It had turned into the one thing above all others that he regretted.
The warrior read over the words several times, his brow knitted.
Pride. He only had his own damned pride to blame.
Slamming the book shut, he stood, feelings of shame rising within him. He strode over to stand beneath the opening, and raised his eyes to regard the darkness.
no subject
The past few hours had been uneventful and silent, and he had forced himself to focus on the neatly scrawled words on the pages, trying to forget the entire past week. His brow was furrowed; he was so intent upon the book that he did not hear the sounds of footsteps coming toward the door.
"Hm?"
Calgara looked up as the door opened with a vaguely inquisitive expression, but it faded quickly as Robin entered the room. He gave her a careful expression, but did not hide he fact that his eyes trailed her before he ascended her ladder into her secret library.
Once she had vanished, Calgara watched the opening for a moment before he growled quietly to himself in frustration and looked back down at Norland's words. He wanted to pound his fist on the table, but knew better than to cause more problems.
Norland had just began to talk about the need for seeking out and felling all trees infected with Tree Fever on Jaya in his log. There were brief mentions here and there of the work being done in the forests, but most of the log was attributed to the experiences he had among the villagers; Calgara himself made regular appearances in his entries.
But suddenly, the jovial tone of Norland's rhetoric changed drastically to confusion. He asked many questions, most imposing of all of them the question as to why Calgara had turned so suddenly hostile. Norland could not fathom what he had done to incur his friend's wrath, and had even asked him about it to only receive a spear grazing his cheek.
Calgara gritted his teeth as he read this. In retrospect, his ire had been his undoing. Never again did he see his best friend after that, their last words shouted over an expanse of sea. It had turned into the one thing above all others that he regretted.
The warrior read over the words several times, his brow knitted.
Pride. He only had his own damned pride to blame.
Slamming the book shut, he stood, feelings of shame rising within him. He strode over to stand beneath the opening, and raised his eyes to regard the darkness.
"...Robin?"