Thread: Pynti-Peldot

Name Nickname Brynne daughter of Bastian. Race Human. Attire Black, empire-waisted, long-sleeved dress with red and gold trim black leather boots. Weapon Dagger . Location Pynti-Peldot inside the Inn of the Snowy Eagle. Tagging Anyone Celeste, Vaemyr, Teemu sees Bremven. Time TA 3018, March 1, evening. The silence between them all was deafening, though the hum of the bustling patrons was more than enough to cause anyone's ears to ring. However, Brynne didn't find herself feeling that way. Instead, she felt out of place. Alone. The tension was certainly thick and growing by the second between both Teemu and Vaemyr despite the fact that her family's ex-guard wasn't out to cause harm or troubles for those in the northern wastes. Vaemyr was a good man, had done well by her and her family all those years ago... before he left them. Before he left Dale. She never knew why he'd gone, but from the way he stood there, his face drawn, his eyes dark as if they'd seen too much, she was certain it had been for good reason. Glancing back at Teemu, his fierce eyes seeming to scour and scrutinize, casting judgment upon anyone with blood too thin to deal with the harsher climate of the north, she shivered. As the chill ran along Brynne's spine, her hands worked their way back into her lap, fingers intertwining themselves nervously as she leaned closer to where the fires burned across the way. She rubbed her palms together to stave off the sudden chill seeming to engulf her, though perhaps not all of that was a result of Teemu's icy glare. The door to the inn had opened not long ago, the brisk air's bite making its way across the crowded room until it caressed her flesh, causing it to break out into goose bumps. She looked over to see who'd entered the establishment--so many came and went and though having stayed at the inn for nearly a month, she still didn't know all the locals as so many hunted or had left on various expeditions, not yet to have returned. It was a dynamic place, Pynti-Peldot, not much different from Dale in some ways. Only Dale had been familiar, warmer, safer... Just then, Brynne heaved a heavy sigh. Safer. She wasn't sure she knew the meaning of that word any longer. Dale, the one place that had always been a haven to her, its walls steadfast and strong, had proven not to be safe after all. Her dark eyes watered slightly as she thought about her parents, her gazing shifting down so as to hide her eyes sudden dampness. Would she ever see them again? Would she ever be warm again? They were certainly things to ponder. Blinking rapidly, she fought the urge to cry, sucking in a sharp breath when suddenly she heard the haunting tones above the droning voices of the patrons as they went about their business. Brynne looked up, her neck twisting so that she could peer through the crowd to where the sounds were coming from. It was a distinct melody, the sounds pure and ethereal as they beckoned... almost as if to her, so she felt. The tunes they forged came together so sweetly in such lush tones, a song that could make her forget her troubles for a time... Biting down on her full lower lip, she slid off her seat, her black skirts clinging to her slight body as she gracefully stood up and excused herself from the two warriors' presence. She gave them each a nod followed by a curtsy before moving through the sea of people toward that delicious harmony that called out, its melancholy song reaching into her heart, her soul so it could tug her ever onward. Finally, Brynne could see where the music was coming from. The sounds rising above the people as it filled the room. The notes danced with the flames of the fire as she listened, her eyes transfixed upon the one who played the flute. She stood back a bit, partially obscured by people as the pushed and shoved, one patron elbowing her smartly in ribs as the area started to become congested with onlookers. Ooofff... Brynne gasped as she winced, a delicate hand moving to rub at her side. The dull ache was enough to jar her, but she didn't want to leave the scene. The music lured her in, the sounds hypnotizing as they made her forget her worries about being separated from her family, her home, being lost in the frozen north of Forodwaith. More and more onlookers began to crowd into the area, Brynne's tiny body becoming swallowed up as they pressed against her. Bigger, taller, stronger. She scowled as they obstructed her view, her eyes connecting with those of the flutist before they did so completely. Cheeks red, she frowned and gripped her skirts firmly in her hands causing her knuckles to go white. She so wanted to enjoy the music, to watch the man as he played. But these patrons didn't seem to care about that. She was a warmlander, an outsider. To them, she hardly mattered at all.