So I was making up part of a story, earlier this week, about a warrior coming back to consciousness after being knocked out, and I managed to make myself feel so dizzy I fell down a flight of stairs. It was special. Embarrassing definitely, but still rather amusing.
Sometimes, my imagination works altogether too well.
Anyway, tell me what you think of Tyre. *nervous smile*
Catania’s Forest: The Little Drummer-boy in Narnia ~ Part Four
The centaur towered above Catania by more than a head and shoulders. His glossy chestnut sides glistened with sweat in the westering sun, and his velvet shirt was stained with it; he never moved slower than a trot. His course, brown hair splayed across his green-clad shoulders; and his short, dark beard masked the lower half of his sun-tanned face.
“I need your help, Tyre.” They never wasted time on greetings.
The centaur drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. “I don’t have time to help little girls.”
“I have an offer to make you,” Catania corrected herself impatiently, turning to walk back towards his tower beside him. She had to move quickly to keep his pace, but she was accustomed to brisk walking.
They caught up to Jéru and his charge, and moved passed them, Tyre shuffling disgustedly around the swine. The pipe music had begun again. The herd moved slowly, and soon fell away behind them. Catania itched to explain herself, but she could see the centaur had other things in mind.
“Why were you talking to that renegade, Catania?” he finally asked.
Catania was surprised he had had the decency to wait until the swineherd disappeared behind the bend in the road. They had almost reached Tyre’s tower now. Catania had never been inside it. Guessing from the gold embroidery that often curled its way across the centaur’s clothes, it must be a magnificent place.
“Is it a concern of yours if I am polite to him?”
“It’s my concern if you sympathize with cowardly rebels.”
“Look, Tyre, I’m out here risking my life. I’m not their slave. What do you want? I can’t start a revolution. How far would I get? A little elf-girl with a knife and a bow?”
“You would get farther than you’re getting mooning around shooting naught but deer,” Tyre said authoritatively.
“I have to eat,” Catania snapped. “It’s not like you’re laying siege the city either.” She was not one to pick a fight, but something about the arrogant centaur always managed to make her especially snappish. “Now, look. I just shot a deer, and I need you to help me get it back to my kitchen. I’ll give you a third of the meat?”
The centaur hesitated, then shrugged. “Very well, don’t just stand there then. Where did it go down?”
P.S. Make sure you didn’t miss my last Cat’s Forest post! I’m going to be posting very often to get all the parts in, because I want to post the last one on Christmas Eve. I’ll have it on the Stories page afterwards, if you would rather read it then at your own pace.