,[/ /],`,[\ \],`,[/ /],`,[\ \],`,[/ /],`,[\ \],`,[/ /],`,[\ \],`,[/ /],`,[\ \],
Chlamash unfolds the paper, flattening it. He seems to take his time re-reading it, mouthing some sort of bendiction over it before he tucks it away.
Haft enters the room. He looks surprised to see both Lanisen and Chlamash present, but offers a bow to the Tarkaan.
Chlamash glances up at the sound of footsteps of approching footsteps, running a hand through his hair. His posture straightens so that his noble bearing is more obvious. When Haft enters, he nods to him politely his face revealing nothing.
Lanisen nods to Haft. He takes a deep breath and stands up, running a hand through his hair to set it sort-of straight, and carries his book over to the shelf it came from.
Haft walks to a shelf further along the room and takes a small volume down, then finds a chair and begins perusing it.
Chlamash opens one of the volumes stacked beside him, glancing up as Lanisen moves to book his book away and nodding too him as well.”
Lanisen walks a little bit funny, making faces the whole way and finally pausing by the shelf to stand on one foot while the other works out its pins-and-needles issues, but he bows awkwardly when Chlamash acknowledges him.
Chlamash says, “Good Morning, Lanisen, Guardsmen.”
He sets his foot down and makes another face.
Chlamash frowns slightly when he sees this.
Lanisen turns a little red. “Ahh, I was sittin’ funny,” he says in explanation. “My foot’s asleep.”
Chlamash nods, “I trust you are well then?”
Lanisen says, “Yes, sir, thank you.”
He hesitates briefly. “Are, are you? Well?”
Haft turns a page in his book.
Chlamash glances briefly at the guardsman before turning his attention replying. He motions for Lanisen to join him if he will, replying briefly “It is what it is. Sometimes it pleases the gods to deprive the mere mortals of us of sleep.”
He doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping well.
Lanisen shakes out his misbehaving foot and steps tentatively, then crosses to join Chlamash. He mostly walking normally. “Is that what you were seein’ Stormsbreath about, the other day?”
he asks quietly when he’s reached the table.
Haft mutters to himself.
Haft mumbles “Nothing like a room full of snoring, wheezing guardsman to put a body right to sleep. It’s silence that’s unnerving.”, to Haft.
Haft mumbles “… … a … full … … wheezing … to put a … … to sleep. … silence … unnerving.”, to Haft.
Chlamash glances at the guardsman with a frown, before nodding to Lanisen.
Chlamash says, “It was.”
Lanisen pauses, then asks, “It didn’t work?”
Chlamash makes a motion to signify the moderate effectiveness of it. “My mind has been filled with many thoughts of late…”
Lanisen says, “I’m sorry.”
Chlamash nods, “Thank you.”
He hesitates, then draws out the paper again which he offers to Lanisen. It seems to have some age to it and has been folded and re-folded many times.
Haft mumbles “Everyone’s mind has.”, to Haft.
Haft mumbles “Everyone’s mind has.”, to Haft.
Lanisen glances past Chlamash to Haft, straightening slightly. “Sorry?”
Chlamash nods to Lanisen, “Thank you.” However, as Haft’s comments reach his ears, his jaw tightens, glancing the guardsman’s way.
Haft stiffens uncomfortably. “I apologize, Tarkaan. I mean with all the uncertainty about Narnia’s future, everyone is naturally concerned.”
Lanisen sits back slightly in his chair, looking down at the table.
Chlamash inclines his head to Haft, “Of course, Guardsmen.” He offers politely, his voice soft. “It is understandable.” He favors the guardsman with an understanding look, but it does not reach his eyes.
Haft returns to his reading, ignoring the Look.
Lanisen’s eyes dart between the men.
Chlamash’s eyes narrow, at the slight, before turning to Lanisen.
Chlamash mumbles “I … there … … … who do … … … good …”, to Lanisen.
Lanisen frowns, glancing unhappily between Chlamash and Haft. “That’s not–”
Lanisen mumbles “… … he … … anything by it, … sure.”, to Chlamash.
Chlamash raises an eyebrow, unconvinced.
Lanisen lets out a small breath.
Lanisen mumbles “… … … if that’s … … … … … people he don’t like, … … like me … it’s …”, to Chlamash.”
Oh he and Lady Aravis are off arguing about it every chance they get, lately. She keeps telling him he doesn’t understand politics, as far as I can read it. And Prince Corin’s no help, of course,” a washerwoman gossips to a washerman. <Saving>
Haft seems to pick up something in Lanisen’s tone which makes him realize he’s being discussed. He looks at the two curiously. “Did I speak out of turn?”
Lanisen starts guiltily and looks at Chlamash.
Chlamash turns to Haft offering politely in a soft voice, “All is well, most excellent and noble of guardsman.”
He rises, turning to Lanisen “Perhaps we may continue our previous discussion at a more private location? For I should most greatly desire not to disturb you in the most excellent pursuits of learning. And one can but blame oneself if other ears partake of a conversation meant for only two in such a place as this?”
Haft rises. “ooc waitYou feel a little hungry.
Haft rises. “Nay,” he replies, his voice more formal than one typically hears it, as though he realizes he has given more serious offense than he had originally realized. “Yhe two of you were here first. I can easily take my reading back to the watchtower, and I shall do so forthwith.”
With this, he tucks his book under his arm, offers a deeper than usual bow to Chlamash, and turns to go.
Chlamash offers a bow to Haft as he leaves. “Most gracious of you.”
Chlamash offers a bow to Haft as he leaves.”