TriniMad
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2015
Some things shift and change like the sweeping of sand over time, but like the desert itself, no matter how much change occurred, somethings would always remain the same. Vika had to restrain herself from letting the word "little one" slip from her lips; Tormod was hardly little whatsoever now, and when he still was, Muarim was the only one who could get away unscathed (sometimes quite literally with how the pugnacious fire sage always seemed to have fire crackling threateningly at the ready from his fingertips).
"Hey! Vika! Did you even listen to anything I just said to you? When is Muarim going to be here?"
Oh yes, some things just never change. It was quite difficult now to keep the emerging smile from appearing on her expression, considering that Tormod was still as much of a brat as he was once was, but she wouldn't have wanted him in any other way. Nor did she think Muarim would be expecting anything else from the once small beorc child with the flaming red hair and even more fiery temperament, his blazing yet warm personality as comforting as it always was. The raven laguz merely sighed and crossed her arms as she gave a small jerk of her head to the left, which led out into the border between Gallia and Begnion; they were the respective countries Muarim and Tormod had been separated in, mostly at the tiger laguz's insistence to have his "little one" further his horizons, especially with his magical talents. The tone of her voice was nothing but quiet amusement as she dryly replied, "Tormod, you've been away for two years already. The world isn't going to burst into flames if you could wait for another few more minutes now, could you?"
Two years had plenty of changes to the beorc child; Vika sometimes forgot just how quickly beorcs matured and shot up like weeds, and Tormod proudly reminded her that he was no longer short by any means almost immediately when they had met up just a little over an hour ago. Indeed, the fire sage was no longer the tiny, round-cheeked, and twiggy-legged child that she had met nearly three years ago; now, he was all tight lean muscles, sharp angles, and broad shoulders that made him surprisingly look quite un-mage-like. Obviously, compared to the many other barrel-chested and muscle-strapped tiger and lion laguz that she dealt with on a daily basis, especially Muarim, Tormod could be seen as still thin, but she couldn't help but think that it was impressive just how much he had grown and nicely filled out his new masculine frame.
However, Tormod was still only seventeen, and thus, his attitude was still very much his petulant self. "Yeah, you can say that when you've been around Muarim practically everyday, and I can barely get a letter through into Gallia during these two years," the fire sage grumbled deeply under his breath, letting out an impatient huff and he kicked a loose stone across the dusty path that led out of the beorc town they were waiting on the border of, "I didn't even want to come to Begnion! I mean, I'm the leader of the Laguz Emancipation Army, yet there I was, all stuck in a stuffy little room for hours on end. I heard what Muarim and you were doing, and honestly, I would have been so much more help working with both of you than trying to digest rubbish out of crinkly old books-"
A soft chuckle that escaped her then as the raven laguz fluttered closer and placed a light hand high up on the fire sage's shoulder, enough to cut off Tormod mid-sentence as the beorc male turned towards her. However, she wasn't looking at him as she could spot a familiar figure complete with a thin tail whipping behind him approaching quickly in the distance with her far-sighted raven laguz eyes, and there was no doubt in her mind that Muarim had finally arrived. Giving a small shove to the younger male that hardly made him even twitch at all, her voice was fond as she stepped away and stretched her wings out, "Or you could go ask Muarim yourself. I can see him coming. I'll catch up with you both later."
Tormod couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as his eyes widened, scanning at what Vika saw to be his best friend to be coming; darn beorc eyes for being weaker than that of the laguz, but he hardly doubted that the raven laguz was telling the truth. The fire sage was already lengthening out his stride to break into a run as he gave a hasty farewell of a careless wave and a last glance back to see her already hovering up into the sky, "Oh- Hey, alright! I'll see you later, Vika!"
A run wasn't fast enough for Tormod, not when his sight could finally take in some of the details of the untransformed laguz heading towards him, and there wasn't enough emotions or words to describe how the fire sage felt at the moment. To say that he was homesick and missed Muarim terribly wasn't enough; without the solid comforting presence of the tiger laguz beside him always, it felt more as if Tormod was missing a part of himself, like an arm or a leg. They balanced each other out, completed the feeling of belonging that no measure of other intimacy could compete with, and he was quickly trying to swallow down the rising feeling of wanting to cry out of sheer happiness and relief to be back with Muarim once again. No more would they be separated; Tormod had blazed through all the curriculum Begnion could offer to him in those two years (as a natural fire sage and genius), and no measure of convincing would separate him from Muarim ever again.
Tormod was even happy to scream himself hoarse, nearly tripping over the hem of his robe the closer they got to each other and with what could only be described as the expression of pure unadulterated joy on his face. "Muarim! MUARIM! MUUU-AAARRRIMMMM!"
OLDER TORMOD REFERENCES: x, x, x
"Hey! Vika! Did you even listen to anything I just said to you? When is Muarim going to be here?"
Oh yes, some things just never change. It was quite difficult now to keep the emerging smile from appearing on her expression, considering that Tormod was still as much of a brat as he was once was, but she wouldn't have wanted him in any other way. Nor did she think Muarim would be expecting anything else from the once small beorc child with the flaming red hair and even more fiery temperament, his blazing yet warm personality as comforting as it always was. The raven laguz merely sighed and crossed her arms as she gave a small jerk of her head to the left, which led out into the border between Gallia and Begnion; they were the respective countries Muarim and Tormod had been separated in, mostly at the tiger laguz's insistence to have his "little one" further his horizons, especially with his magical talents. The tone of her voice was nothing but quiet amusement as she dryly replied, "Tormod, you've been away for two years already. The world isn't going to burst into flames if you could wait for another few more minutes now, could you?"
Two years had plenty of changes to the beorc child; Vika sometimes forgot just how quickly beorcs matured and shot up like weeds, and Tormod proudly reminded her that he was no longer short by any means almost immediately when they had met up just a little over an hour ago. Indeed, the fire sage was no longer the tiny, round-cheeked, and twiggy-legged child that she had met nearly three years ago; now, he was all tight lean muscles, sharp angles, and broad shoulders that made him surprisingly look quite un-mage-like. Obviously, compared to the many other barrel-chested and muscle-strapped tiger and lion laguz that she dealt with on a daily basis, especially Muarim, Tormod could be seen as still thin, but she couldn't help but think that it was impressive just how much he had grown and nicely filled out his new masculine frame.
However, Tormod was still only seventeen, and thus, his attitude was still very much his petulant self. "Yeah, you can say that when you've been around Muarim practically everyday, and I can barely get a letter through into Gallia during these two years," the fire sage grumbled deeply under his breath, letting out an impatient huff and he kicked a loose stone across the dusty path that led out of the beorc town they were waiting on the border of, "I didn't even want to come to Begnion! I mean, I'm the leader of the Laguz Emancipation Army, yet there I was, all stuck in a stuffy little room for hours on end. I heard what Muarim and you were doing, and honestly, I would have been so much more help working with both of you than trying to digest rubbish out of crinkly old books-"
A soft chuckle that escaped her then as the raven laguz fluttered closer and placed a light hand high up on the fire sage's shoulder, enough to cut off Tormod mid-sentence as the beorc male turned towards her. However, she wasn't looking at him as she could spot a familiar figure complete with a thin tail whipping behind him approaching quickly in the distance with her far-sighted raven laguz eyes, and there was no doubt in her mind that Muarim had finally arrived. Giving a small shove to the younger male that hardly made him even twitch at all, her voice was fond as she stepped away and stretched her wings out, "Or you could go ask Muarim yourself. I can see him coming. I'll catch up with you both later."
Tormod couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as his eyes widened, scanning at what Vika saw to be his best friend to be coming; darn beorc eyes for being weaker than that of the laguz, but he hardly doubted that the raven laguz was telling the truth. The fire sage was already lengthening out his stride to break into a run as he gave a hasty farewell of a careless wave and a last glance back to see her already hovering up into the sky, "Oh- Hey, alright! I'll see you later, Vika!"
A run wasn't fast enough for Tormod, not when his sight could finally take in some of the details of the untransformed laguz heading towards him, and there wasn't enough emotions or words to describe how the fire sage felt at the moment. To say that he was homesick and missed Muarim terribly wasn't enough; without the solid comforting presence of the tiger laguz beside him always, it felt more as if Tormod was missing a part of himself, like an arm or a leg. They balanced each other out, completed the feeling of belonging that no measure of other intimacy could compete with, and he was quickly trying to swallow down the rising feeling of wanting to cry out of sheer happiness and relief to be back with Muarim once again. No more would they be separated; Tormod had blazed through all the curriculum Begnion could offer to him in those two years (as a natural fire sage and genius), and no measure of convincing would separate him from Muarim ever again.
Tormod was even happy to scream himself hoarse, nearly tripping over the hem of his robe the closer they got to each other and with what could only be described as the expression of pure unadulterated joy on his face. "Muarim! MUARIM! MUUU-AAARRRIMMMM!"
OLDER TORMOD REFERENCES: x, x, x