15min fic #47
Sep. 27th, 2004 07:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Eccentricities
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine. Still.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 47. I've decided that the minor characters need more characterisation, Mithé in particular, since he's kinda halfway between a primary and secondary character. So that's half the reason for this one. Also~ this is currently where the best picci of a nira exists. Gimme a few minutes and I'll scan the final (colour! =0) design of the little guys =3
~ ~ ~
Mithé smiled at the wonder on his son’s face; it was the first time he had been outside the palace walls, and while he had been told about life in the city from the servants and soldiers who lived there, seeing it first hand was evidently quite different.
The seven-year-old stood on the tips of his toes, gripping the fence as he peered over at the animals snuffling around behind it.
“Niras!” he cried happily.
“Keep yer voice down.” The order came from a man of about Mithé’s age, pouring water into the niras’ trough on the other side of the pen.
“Yessir,” the young prince whispered, though Mithé could see a puzzled look in his dark eyes. He looked at the nira farmer, almost as though trying to read something from his turned back. “But… Niras don’t have ears,” he argued, “How can noise disturb them if they can’t hear?”
The nira farmer didn’t answer immediately. He emptied the last of the water kegs into the trough, patted one of the lumbering creatures on the rump and finally sauntered over to the young prince, crouching down to his level. He leaned in close, urging Nolryn to do the same.
“They can smell yer voice,” he said in a hoarse whisper. Mithé could see from the way Nol flinched back slightly, his nose wrinkled, that the farmer’s statement didn’t need explaining.
“Oh.” Nolryn turned from the strange man’s face, reaching over the fence to try petting one of the animals that had wandered over to the fence. It lifted its helmeted head, sitting back on its haunches with its heavy forepaws hanging limply on its belly. The prince giggled as the nira’s nose snuffled at his fingers, but the farmer pushed Nolryn back, almost causing him to fall over.
“Never let them sniff ye,” the man warned at Nol’s disgruntled look. “They talks to each other.”
Mithé held one hand out to his son, satisfied he had seen enough of the niras and their rather eccentric farmer. “I think it’s time to move on,” he suggested. Nol nodded, though from his face it was plain he was still puzzling over what the nira farmer had said.
“What does he mean when he says they talk to each other?” he asked when they were once again on camel back.
Mithé laughed. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, Nolryn.” He leant forward to whisper in his son’s ear. “One of the quirks of the business, I think.”
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All mine. Still.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 47. I've decided that the minor characters need more characterisation, Mithé in particular, since he's kinda halfway between a primary and secondary character. So that's half the reason for this one. Also~ this is currently where the best picci of a nira exists. Gimme a few minutes and I'll scan the final (colour! =0) design of the little guys =3
Mithé smiled at the wonder on his son’s face; it was the first time he had been outside the palace walls, and while he had been told about life in the city from the servants and soldiers who lived there, seeing it first hand was evidently quite different.
The seven-year-old stood on the tips of his toes, gripping the fence as he peered over at the animals snuffling around behind it.
“Niras!” he cried happily.
“Keep yer voice down.” The order came from a man of about Mithé’s age, pouring water into the niras’ trough on the other side of the pen.
“Yessir,” the young prince whispered, though Mithé could see a puzzled look in his dark eyes. He looked at the nira farmer, almost as though trying to read something from his turned back. “But… Niras don’t have ears,” he argued, “How can noise disturb them if they can’t hear?”
The nira farmer didn’t answer immediately. He emptied the last of the water kegs into the trough, patted one of the lumbering creatures on the rump and finally sauntered over to the young prince, crouching down to his level. He leaned in close, urging Nolryn to do the same.
“They can smell yer voice,” he said in a hoarse whisper. Mithé could see from the way Nol flinched back slightly, his nose wrinkled, that the farmer’s statement didn’t need explaining.
“Oh.” Nolryn turned from the strange man’s face, reaching over the fence to try petting one of the animals that had wandered over to the fence. It lifted its helmeted head, sitting back on its haunches with its heavy forepaws hanging limply on its belly. The prince giggled as the nira’s nose snuffled at his fingers, but the farmer pushed Nolryn back, almost causing him to fall over.
“Never let them sniff ye,” the man warned at Nol’s disgruntled look. “They talks to each other.”
Mithé held one hand out to his son, satisfied he had seen enough of the niras and their rather eccentric farmer. “I think it’s time to move on,” he suggested. Nol nodded, though from his face it was plain he was still puzzling over what the nira farmer had said.
“What does he mean when he says they talk to each other?” he asked when they were once again on camel back.
Mithé laughed. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, Nolryn.” He leant forward to whisper in his son’s ear. “One of the quirks of the business, I think.”