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Post by Zane Lexington on Feb 1, 2012 17:44:56 GMT -5
 '' take your past and burn it up and let
'' it go , c a r r y on i'm s t r o n g e r than you'll ever know[/color][/font][/color] [/center]
Zane was in a good mood.
Of course, this wasn't an unusual thing. The Marquess was usually in a good mood, as his people could tell anyone. It was rare for him to have a frown on his face, It wasn't that he didn't get upset or depressed sometimes, because he was only human. He just chose to look on the bright side of things. There were many terrible things in the world, and if he always dwelt on them, he'd be depressed for the rest of his life. His father had always harped on being stuck in reality, and thought his son had been a bit of an airhead. Zane thought that was silly. He was in reality, of course, he was just more upbeat about it. Someone had to look on the bright side of things.
But there was a reason he was in a good mood today. Zane didn't often go hunting, for several reasons. It was more of the fact he didn't like hurting animals than anything else. He wasn't softhearted like his sister was, but he didn't like to hurt animals if he had to. It was a good thing that he was an amazing shot, and that he could usually kill anything with one shot. There was also the fact that it meant putting his horse in danger, and he loved Dancer. His mother constantly told him that he loved horses more the women - Zane didn't deny it.
Women were scary creatures after all.
But he needed a change of pace. Zane had been stuck indoors for the past couple of weeks, helping around his estate. He wanted to make sure his people had enough to eat, and the walls were starting to fall apart in places. Plus, Catherine was at that age where she wanted to go to parties and balls and things like that, and someone had to escort her. Zane wasn't particularly fond of either of them, as that meant dressing up and being paraded around a room like some kind of pet. Ugh. That was just unpleasant. He did it for Catherine - she could always weasel things out of him. But there was only so many parties he could go to before he wanted to scream and punch something - or someone - in the face.
Hence why this lovely sunny morning he had sent a letter to one of his friends, Sylphen, asking him to join him on the hunt. The morning light found the young nobleman petting his strawberry roan mare, awaiting his friend. It had been a while since he had talked to Sylph, so it'd be fun. He absently toyed with his bow, wondering just what they'd find today...
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tagged: Sylph
word count: Four hundred and something rather.
notes: xD Here goes nothing~
lyrics: ...to be loved - papa roach !
credit:NOTHING_PERSONAL @ CAUTION !
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Post by SYLPHEN ELLIOT HARLOW on Feb 1, 2012 18:21:44 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i56.tinypic.com/20gfl1v.jpg); padding: 30px; border: #2D2729 solid 30px; ]to live and move only you  WORDS 600 | TAGGED ZANE | NOTES WHEE! I'VE NEVER WRITTEN ABOUT A HUNTING TRIP BEFORE. There wasn't much to do lately. The season wasn't really going to start until the spring and many of those Sylph associated himself with in London were off traveling. He had been, too, until his favorite maid had taken ill. Frightened for her well-being, he'd made sure to return shortly after Christmas and get her back home. Miraculously, she had recovered, but the scare was still with him. Sylph was close with his house-hold staff; they had made sure their young master was raised right- and some of those around his age had grown up as his playmates and friends. She had been close to him after his parents' death, and their intimacy had grown during his teen years (it was only normal to have secret affairs with a maid- almost like a right of passage). He couldn't bear to lose her, even if they had grown distant in their older years what with her wanting to settle down and have children.
He had little to preoccupy himself with now, but luckily a few of his friends still remained in the city. It had been over drinks at a rather dull party that he had first discussed this hunting trip with his friend, the Marquess Zane. It had been a surprise to receive his letter, but he was already in the country, and it had arrived to him quickly at his country estate. Now, here they were in the forest, ready to get the weekend started. Of course, Sylph didn't often hunt for sport or to see the animal killed. More or less, he had a different proposition for his friend where they would capture the target and release it again. Of course, he did have a taste for venison, so he would be pleased if they were able to hunt one down that he could take home for a meal. Or perhaps catch a few quail. His shot was good, but not as good as his friend's, thus he would leave that up to him.
When it came to the dogs and the elaborate hunts, Sylph turned his nose up at them. He also hated the drunken hunt parties. Not only did the animals suffer, but it was common for a man to be wounded due to careless foolery.
Rather than taking the carriage to the cabin, he rode on the back of his prized black stallion Caesar. His love of Greece and the history, art, and legends had been the inspiration behind the name he had bestowed upon him. It wasn't all that uncommon, though. The aristocracy of London was becoming more and more enamored with the artifacts and ruins. Rumors of dig sites being attacked by bandits and priceless pieces ending up on the black market was more and more common. He'd heard that the Leroux family had recently opened shop in town and made a mental note to request some of the pieces he was searching for when he returned. He would like to see if the French merchant made good on his promise.
"It's been a long time, good friend," Sylph greeted Zane as he dismounted Caesar and approached his friend with all of the grace and poise a duke should possess. "It was a pleasure to receive your letter this morning, but quite unexpected. I did not realize we would take this trip so soon," regardless, he didn't sound at all displeased or surprised, just amused at the spontaneity his friend possessed. Had it be he planning this trip, he would have set it up weeks in advance.
these dry bones cry for you |
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