Tamlin Listened And Spoke Slowly, In Turn. "You Aren't Too Much."

Tamlin listened and spoke slowly, in turn. "You aren't too much."

He directed the horses through the clearing and into a faster pace as the morning continued to race on. The last thing he wanted to do was trap Briar in the forest at midnight for a second time. That seemed unfair. "I think you just have too much heart to give. Enough that it leaks out from time to time. Perhaps, if you showed yourself the same care and concern, life would not always feel so frightening."

He pointed to a small trail off the larger, beaten path. "I don't tend to take my own advice, but I know it's the same for myself. I might not trust very many people, but those who've earned that I consider family."

He led her toward the pond and pointed to a a shallow edge, where the soil softened into mud. "Blueberries, usually. Though, they do like bread. It's just not good for them. Like my own appreciation for almond biscuits."

This is Me Trying (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Tamlin was warm. He floated on the soft cloud of rest that sheltered his body with comfort and his mind with peace. His chest rose and fell in a natural rhythm as the birds in the trees began to trill just before morning light. There was a weight on his shoulder. During the night, he’d casually drifted to and away from Briar until they fell asleep for good with her hand resting over his heart. The High Lord slowly opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning sun, adjusting the relaxation in his limbs.

Where am I? What happened?

Tamlin rubbed his eyes and woke with a soft groan. He grasped his head, freshly aware of the pain lingering there, and discouraged by the lack of progress wish his efforts to sleep. The curl of her fingers was enough to fully open his eyes and begin waking to the world around him. When he did, Tamlin became hyper conscious of the way Briar’s hand rested on his chest.

His heart leapt into his throat and he carefully unthreaded her body from around his own, leaving behind his close call from the night before. Tamlin scratched the back of his head and stepped over Briar while she snoozed. What is going on?

He pushed past the opening of the tent, thankful that she slept soundly and he had a few moments to settle his nerves and try to gather what had happened, yet no matter how hard he tried the memory would not resurface. What happened? What had he done? Tamlin walked into the fresh spring breeze and found some odd relief from the stress and tension which he normally awoke to at dawn. The likelihood was just that they’d both been cold and huddled together for maximum shelter.

Still, he had a difficulty with eye contact as Briar emerged from the tent and he handed her a plate of warm breakfast, complete with a carefully sliced red apple and the last of the bread. They had a half day of travel left in the woods, but would have to take shelter in an inn tonight. Hopefully, the provisions would be plentiful.

“Good-morning.” Tamlin mumbled, shyly glancing up between bites of food. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

It was hard…for him to relax around people, let alone strangers, but especially strangers that he knew. Contrary to what he’d said, Tamlin remembered Briar more than he would like to admit. Remembering her meant remembering everything that happened in the aftermath of his disastrous wedding and attempt to reclaim his land. In the end, even with those people that he loved back in them, he had failed.

Sometimes love wasn’t enough. Very often, it failed. Love was not enough to break curses or save souls, let alone mend hearts and heal countries; yet he had more than enough of it to spare. He carried his mothers’ heart in his chest. It was one of many reasons why his father had hated him so badly. His parents being mates had not solved their interpersonal issues. It had left him with deeply set doubts over his own value, let alone marriage, or a mating bond.

Love, marriage, a baby carriage. Weren’t those things supposed to be the most natural ones in the world? Nothing had ever felt more foreign to him — especially now, sitting with a strange girl, speaking of children whom they loved but did not sire themselves. “Spring Solstice is something else. There are a hundred busy hands that go into making it the festivity of the year. We may not have the same amount of snow as Winter, but we certainly have twice the heart and double the spirits and wine.”

“Only a single glass for myself, though.” He said wryly. “I can be a bit of a lightweight.”

Tamlin held out the last of the blueberries and offered them to her. “I’m sure some work can be arranged. No matter what we find for you — no child is left behind during the holidays. I make sure of it.”

Tamlin pushed the air between his hands out into the distance and pulled it back, forming a shape, which slowly came into view. It was a wooden duck. He handed it to Briar. “Perhaps, you can have a head start.”

This is Me Trying (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Tamlin was warm. He floated on the soft cloud of rest that sheltered his body with comfort and his mind with peace. His chest rose and fell in a natural rhythm as the birds in the trees began to trill just before morning light. There was a weight on his shoulder. During the night, he’d casually drifted to and away from Briar until they fell asleep for good with her hand resting over his heart. The High Lord slowly opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning sun, adjusting the relaxation in his limbs.

Where am I? What happened?

Tamlin rubbed his eyes and woke with a soft groan. He grasped his head, freshly aware of the pain lingering there, and discouraged by the lack of progress wish his efforts to sleep. The curl of her fingers was enough to fully open his eyes and begin waking to the world around him. When he did, Tamlin became hyper conscious of the way Briar’s hand rested on his chest.

His heart leapt into his throat and he carefully unthreaded her body from around his own, leaving behind his close call from the night before. Tamlin scratched the back of his head and stepped over Briar while she snoozed. What is going on?

He pushed past the opening of the tent, thankful that she slept soundly and he had a few moments to settle his nerves and try to gather what had happened, yet no matter how hard he tried the memory would not resurface. What happened? What had he done? Tamlin walked into the fresh spring breeze and found some odd relief from the stress and tension which he normally awoke to at dawn. The likelihood was just that they’d both been cold and huddled together for maximum shelter.

Still, he had a difficulty with eye contact as Briar emerged from the tent and he handed her a plate of warm breakfast, complete with a carefully sliced red apple and the last of the bread. They had a half day of travel left in the woods, but would have to take shelter in an inn tonight. Hopefully, the provisions would be plentiful.

“Good-morning.” Tamlin mumbled, shyly glancing up between bites of food. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

{Words by José Olivarez from Citizen Illegal /@fatimaamerbilal , from even flesh eaters don't want me.}

This is Me Trying (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Tamlin was warm. He floated on the soft cloud of rest that sheltered his body with comfort and his mind with peace. His chest rose and fell in a natural rhythm as the birds in the trees began to trill just before morning light. There was a weight on his shoulder. During the night, he’d casually drifted to and away from Briar until they fell asleep for good with her hand resting over his heart. The High Lord slowly opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning sun, adjusting the relaxation in his limbs.

Where am I? What happened?

Tamlin rubbed his eyes and woke with a soft groan. He grasped his head, freshly aware of the pain lingering there, and discouraged by the lack of progress wish his efforts to sleep. The curl of her fingers was enough to fully open his eyes and begin waking to the world around him. When he did, Tamlin became hyper conscious of the way Briar’s hand rested on his chest.

His heart leapt into his throat and he carefully unthreaded her body from around his own, leaving behind his close call from the night before. Tamlin scratched the back of his head and stepped over Briar while she snoozed. What is going on?

He pushed past the opening of the tent, thankful that she slept soundly and he had a few moments to settle his nerves and try to gather what had happened, yet no matter how hard he tried the memory would not resurface. What happened? What had he done? Tamlin walked into the fresh spring breeze and found some odd relief from the stress and tension which he normally awoke to at dawn. The likelihood was just that they’d both been cold and huddled together for maximum shelter.

Still, he had a difficulty with eye contact as Briar emerged from the tent and he handed her a plate of warm breakfast, complete with a carefully sliced red apple and the last of the bread. They had a half day of travel left in the woods, but would have to take shelter in an inn tonight. Hopefully, the provisions would be plentiful.

“Good-morning.” Tamlin mumbled, shyly glancing up between bites of food. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

“Group is probably a strong term,” He chuckled under his breath and bent to retrieve a stone from the path. He looked out over the clear water and aimed, sending it carefully skipping across the water. “I don’t gravitate towards social events. It’s much more like being pulled from my books or animals by a small, stubborn, but well meaning family.”

Tamlin bent down next to the ducks and let them waddle up to him in their chorus of total discord. He nodded sincerely, looking from one to the other. “You all think the turtles in the pond have taken up too much space?”

A few quacks agreed with him. “There’s a vote being held to ban turtles from the premises?”

He raised an eyebrow. His eyes crinkled. “I can’t say you’ll be effective, but by all means. Duck democracy should be the ruling one.”

He held out his hand and a small serving of blueberries appeared. A few of the larger quackers rushed forwards to grab them. He conjured a basket and lay them out in the sunshine, leaving just a few for himself and Briar.

“I can understand why you are so stubborn about bringing Caiden home. My found family is torn and sewn back together in a hundred ways.”

He settled into the grass, leaning back, and enjoying her silence. Sometimes silence told him a lot more about a person than their words. “Holidays are intense, but, I would not let a single one of them go in a heartbeat. Despite…the heartache they can cause me. Knowing they are safe helps me sleep at night.”

This is Me Trying (ft. @springcourthighlady)

Tamlin was warm. He floated on the soft cloud of rest that sheltered his body with comfort and his mind with peace. His chest rose and fell in a natural rhythm as the birds in the trees began to trill just before morning light. There was a weight on his shoulder. During the night, he’d casually drifted to and away from Briar until they fell asleep for good with her hand resting over his heart. The High Lord slowly opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning sun, adjusting the relaxation in his limbs.

Where am I? What happened?

Tamlin rubbed his eyes and woke with a soft groan. He grasped his head, freshly aware of the pain lingering there, and discouraged by the lack of progress wish his efforts to sleep. The curl of her fingers was enough to fully open his eyes and begin waking to the world around him. When he did, Tamlin became hyper conscious of the way Briar’s hand rested on his chest.

His heart leapt into his throat and he carefully unthreaded her body from around his own, leaving behind his close call from the night before. Tamlin scratched the back of his head and stepped over Briar while she snoozed. What is going on?

He pushed past the opening of the tent, thankful that she slept soundly and he had a few moments to settle his nerves and try to gather what had happened, yet no matter how hard he tried the memory would not resurface. What happened? What had he done? Tamlin walked into the fresh spring breeze and found some odd relief from the stress and tension which he normally awoke to at dawn. The likelihood was just that they’d both been cold and huddled together for maximum shelter.

Still, he had a difficulty with eye contact as Briar emerged from the tent and he handed her a plate of warm breakfast, complete with a carefully sliced red apple and the last of the bread. They had a half day of travel left in the woods, but would have to take shelter in an inn tonight. Hopefully, the provisions would be plentiful.

“Good-morning.” Tamlin mumbled, shyly glancing up between bites of food. “Are you ready for an adventure?”

Louise Glück, from “Quince Tree”, The Seven Ages