Scene: Let the Leaves Fall Where They May Who: Rhocanth Garal, Bethen Avilla Where: A courtyard at the Keep When: 9:45 Moloris, current Summary: Rhocanth is trying to get Falina a small token for her birthday, and failing. He could really use some help, perhaps from Bethen. Rating: G
One of the trees in the courtyard was a tall, wrinkled black walnut. It branches bent low under the weight of its spindly leaves, like fingers that waved in the wind. It sat serenely and stared out at the keep beyond, an old man who knew his days were few but was blissfully unaware of what that number was. When the wind blew through its leaves again, it sighed.
Rhocanth scowled at the old tree darkly. The lowest of branches hung just above his head, laden with fat walnuts in green skins. He bent his knees and leaped as high as he could. His fingertips just grazed the belly of one walnut before he fell back to earth again.
"Agh!" he muttered to himself, snapping his arms back behind his back and staring at the ground. This was all incredibly undignified. How would he ever get those leaves? And if he didn't, how would he face Falina empty-handed on her birthday? Sod it, this stupid tree...
He started forward and abruptly kicked the tree.
The walnut cracked off its stem and fell.
It clocked him in the head.
"AHH! Sod it all...!" Shocked after the hit on the head and his own rather rude outburst, Rhocanth hunkered down and slinked off to the side of the tree's shadow, sitting down and clapping his palm over the top of his head. It smarted terribly for a moment, making him squint. He sighed, scouring the ground before him. Nothing but brown, withered things and scraps. No fresh green leaves in sight. This was hopeless.