take a seat

Following along the river felt like a safe bet to him, and helped him keep at least one direction straight in his head. He remained unaware of the phantom’s presence until his vile voice caused the young принц to turn, habit forcing his hackles to rise, eyes narrowed in defiance. He was slipping; he should have been able to sense the man’s presence beforehand. The man’s form caused him to inwardly cringe – such patterns in his coat meant one thing: hellish fiends. His mother had warned him about the hell fiends… but he’d never believed in them. Supposedly pure white, corrupt from the devil touching them, spots of black plaguing their body and an attitude so vile and so sour, even the devil himself was slightly afraid.

“Я не должен отвечать крестьянам.” He snapped, his thick accent accentuating his native tongue, blissfully aware that the man appeared to speak the inferior language, though he did not speak it in return. He figured, perhaps tactically, if there were a language barrier, perhaps the conversation would be cut short. Einan scoffed, turning his head and starting to move away from the man, his head shifting back to watch – never turn your back on an enemy, папа had always been very clear about that rule… everyone was an enemy, everyone except family. It was perhaps the one rule he’d actually listened to.

The baddies will get you. The youth rolled his eyes at the very comment. The man was quite obviously a lunatic. Baddies didn’t lurk around rivers in the night… right? He refused to show it on his face, but somewhere deep down he felt a creeping fear sinking into his pelt. He was strong enough to handle whatever life threw at him right? He’d survived this long on his own, learned to hunt, learned to fend for himself. He could handle himself against some creep who enjoys sneaking up on and talking to young children in the middle of the night.