Post by morrigan on Nov 16, 2009 17:29:31 GMT -6
Sometimes Morrigan cursed her sense of duty. Returning from Avaria, only to find her wayward younger cousin had followed her to Turas Lan all the way from bloody Ireland, had been a shock to her system. Shock was quickly followed by annoyance, and then resignation: Caden would have to be returned to Ireland. And if she didn't do it herself, she would never be able to live with herself. Unwilling though the lad was to leave, Morrigan wouldn't allow him to stay. His parents were dead, yes, but the clan in Ireland was his family, and he belonged with them. Boarding a ship to Eire with Caden, she had promised herself she would return soon.
But of course, it seemed things rarely, if ever, went according to plan.
A brief trip to return the scamp had somehow become a stay of a few weeks before the petite lass was able to drag herself away from her boisterous Irish kin. But now, at last, she was home again. The moment she heard Skye had been sighted, she'd taken up a place on deck, careful to stay out of the way of the sailors, and watched as her heart's home grew large on the horizon, the familiar shape of Turas Lan's cityscape against the evening sky. A smile curled slowly on her lips, one hand instinctively falling to grasp the rail and steady her against the soft thud of the ship's side against the padded docks. Men scrambled about, throwing mooring lines to dock hands who secured the ship, then set the gangplank from deck to dock. Tugging her cloak more securely around her body, she moved easily with the slight bob and sway of the vessel as she padded across the deck, offering farewells to the sailors, and trotted down the gangplank.
Boots met the dock with barely a shuffle of leather against water-worn wood, accompanied by the click of claws as Liath descended beside her, and dark brown eyes shifted across her surroundings as a sigh fell from her lips. Home... She was home again. And this time, it would take a catastrophe of momentous proportions to get her to leave again. She chuckled at the thought. Knowing her luck, that's exactly what would happen. She looked down at the wolfhound beside her, reaching a hand down to pet his shaggy-haired head.
"Well.. time tae make our way back, aye?"
Muttered idly to the dog, who gave a low, gruff 'woof' in response, before she hitched her pack more securely on her shoulder, and started out of the docks. Bess had undoubtedly been worried about her.. she should let the Duchess know she was alive and well. And then maybe, she could try to get her life back on track again.. hopefully this time, she would actually succeed.
She was home again. And that was all that mattered.
But of course, it seemed things rarely, if ever, went according to plan.
A brief trip to return the scamp had somehow become a stay of a few weeks before the petite lass was able to drag herself away from her boisterous Irish kin. But now, at last, she was home again. The moment she heard Skye had been sighted, she'd taken up a place on deck, careful to stay out of the way of the sailors, and watched as her heart's home grew large on the horizon, the familiar shape of Turas Lan's cityscape against the evening sky. A smile curled slowly on her lips, one hand instinctively falling to grasp the rail and steady her against the soft thud of the ship's side against the padded docks. Men scrambled about, throwing mooring lines to dock hands who secured the ship, then set the gangplank from deck to dock. Tugging her cloak more securely around her body, she moved easily with the slight bob and sway of the vessel as she padded across the deck, offering farewells to the sailors, and trotted down the gangplank.
Boots met the dock with barely a shuffle of leather against water-worn wood, accompanied by the click of claws as Liath descended beside her, and dark brown eyes shifted across her surroundings as a sigh fell from her lips. Home... She was home again. And this time, it would take a catastrophe of momentous proportions to get her to leave again. She chuckled at the thought. Knowing her luck, that's exactly what would happen. She looked down at the wolfhound beside her, reaching a hand down to pet his shaggy-haired head.
"Well.. time tae make our way back, aye?"
Muttered idly to the dog, who gave a low, gruff 'woof' in response, before she hitched her pack more securely on her shoulder, and started out of the docks. Bess had undoubtedly been worried about her.. she should let the Duchess know she was alive and well. And then maybe, she could try to get her life back on track again.. hopefully this time, she would actually succeed.
She was home again. And that was all that mattered.