[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/mkFbcLS.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/c5i0HyX.png[/img][/center][sub][color=silver]T I M E :[/color]   One Week After Human Arrival
[color=silver]L O C A T I O N :[/color] Lodge, Port10
[color=silver]I N T E R A C T I O N S :[/color] [@Conscripts]
T A G S :[/sub]
[color=silver][sub]E Q U I P M E N T :[/sub][/color][hider=][sub]N/A[/sub][/hider]
 

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DkWjPqa.png?1[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/0hgKymt.png[/img][/center]



	 [color=silver]]As the orc’s large body came through the door, a shadow loomed into the room, but when he fully made his entrance, the fireplace welcomed the new comer with a happy crackle. A small smile, cheeky if anything, resided in Good’ole Timothy’s face. His mouth was obviously full of words that may never be spoke in their presence.

      Rowan felt a shiver of guilt corse through his being, not as pain first but as a feeling of relief for having ought to feeling it. And then, as it continued, the silver lining turned sharp and caused him that same agony guilt and physical pain coupled together, often did.

      When Barrock spoke, it was obvious he was a truly special creature. The large creatures words were not so much a hard demand or anything other than a stern question. He offered more empathy and compassion than was necessary, even for a simple creature.

      The guilt shivered once again in Rowan. He could feel it as a cold sweat against his cheeks and forehead now.

Rowan’s eyes shifted towards the door making its appearance known solely by the speaking of her name. He had not been able to see her yet and was uncertain how she was. With the look on Timothy’s face, it was assumed she was fine.

[color=b2beb5]“Right yonder,”[/color] Timothy beckoned. His hand shifted upwards and motioned towards the door a lullaby lulled from the door like white noise, as if the room was coaxing them to come in.

[color=b2beb5]“Unfortunately or maybe more so fortunately, depending how one looks at it? I can’t let Rowan in until he says something. In his condition, he can’t afford not to.”[/color] A sharpness pierced from Timothy’s eyes to Rowan’s. An obvious sign of desire and trust that was unmistakeable my needed to be placed in Good’ole Timothy.

[color=93d8f1]“I…”[/color] Rowan could feel the fear he had when Aurora was suffering, and he had to make the choice. The choice had not come as easy as the split second had made it appear. To explain the feeling was harder for him to pronounce. So, he stayed with formalities. [color=93d8f1]“I apologize for leaving your side in the midst of battle to care for Aurora.”[/color]

The Light Elf’s silver hair strung downwards as his chin dipped into a small bow. The offering left him feeling a as if a weight was lifting from him. [color=93d8f1]“Please, forgive me, as a noble soldier, seeking to regain his honor with you.”[/color] His hand turned into a knuckle as his bow became more of a prostration. 

Timothy, acting as mediator turned his attention to Barrock. The fireplace continued to crackle.

[color=b2beb5] “What do you say?”[/color] The Elder Elf was curious in his knowledge and wisdom, and the warmth in his eyes matched that of the burning fireplace.[/color]