"Sadi's at it again... "
"Who's the unlucky target?"
Two young Altalar walked along the clean stone walkway, murmuring to one another beneath a canopy of trees, hedge-trim bushes rising above them on both sides, the manor courtyard garden bustling with life. From blooming flowers, to succulent fruit trees and chirping birds, to the smell of freshly-cut grass lingering in the warm, summer air, it was an exquisitely magnificent sight. Rounding a carefully trimmed rose bush, they stopped, the small Teledden boy lifting an arm, pointing to something ahead. The Suvial's chocolate colored hues followed his fingers direction, where the path fell away and the hedge bushes ended, both of their gazes fixing on the thin, rapidly moving girl within an alcove of citrus trees.
Crimson stood out among the shimmering green around her, long red waves flowing freely, whipping in the breeze as she maneuvered around the clearing, bow in hand, each arrow notched as quickly as another landed, all embedding into the trunks of the fruit trees around her, treating each as if they were living, breathing enemies surrounding her instead of unmoving foliage.
The Teledden boy peered up at the companion beside him, appearing not a day over six, his long hair a pale blonde, styled back into a sleek, braided hairstyle that ran down his back, his eyes a vivid, icy blue, dressed in finer, wealthy robes, shimmering golden embroidery decorating his dark blue clothing. He looked like a young prince, though for the moment didn't carry any of the stoic, calm mannerisms his father was teaching him, relaxed in the presence of the two other Altalar.
"Azekiel. Father will be unhappy if she messes up the display and puts holes in the tree," he murmured quietly, wide eyes intensely boring into his companions, imploring the Suvial to act. He could not have looked more different in comparison to the Teledden he loomed beside, though knew his features remained soft and young still, betraying his early-teen years for all to see, the Suvial possessing dark, golden skin, his hues a warm, chocolate-brown, curly dark, brown hair tussled and messy, build lanky yet some muscle beneath the simple, yet fine clothes he adorned, much different to the boys beside him.
"I know. I'll go retrieve her… in a moment," Azekiel replied slowly, annoyance lacing his tone, considering just how he'd near without getting shot, tilting his head slightly as he observed the crimson-haired girl across the way, either too engaged with her rapid, wrath-fueled target practice, or not caring she had an audience. Deciding to face the music head on, he strode evenly forth, his footfalls making little noise.
He'd barely stepped into the clearing before he had his answer, bow twanging as another arrow stuck itself into a orange tree's trunk, whipping around to shoot for the tree behind herself. She didn't so much as glance at him as she blatantly spoke, her voice light and young, yet sharp. "Don't."
"Sadima—" Azekiel started, cutting off as an arrow whistled by his head, the girl fully twisting to face him last moment, the miss evidently intentional, he lunged himself off to the side from pure instinct regardless. The arrow soared overhead the garden, plummeting some distance away. He tore his eyes off the arrow and whirled to face the fuming redhead instead. "Are you insane?"
Bristling, the lanky Altalar slit her sea-green hues upon his dark orbs, her pale-porcelain features soft and even.. pretty, adorned with a few freckles. Wide, round, almond-shaped eyes betraying her own youth, along with her soft features, the pre-teen no older then he was. "Are you deaf?" Sadima shot back, her voice less rich and thick with the Ithanian accent both he and the Teledden sported. "Go away."
Briefly his attention flit to the swelling red mark on her cheek, already beginning to bruise. Peering closer, he could note faint traces and scratches from rings adorning the bruise. Surprisingly, he felt a jolt of anger shoot through him, regardless of his loathing for the girl in front of him.
"Lashing out won't make it any easier, if you'd just stop—" He began to insist, cutting off as she blatantly ignored him and raised an arrow towards the tree ahead of herself. Without thought, his hand lashed out, smacking the bow downwards as her fingers loosened, her arrow embedding itself into the grass. "If you'd just stop and think,"
When they'd first met, he pitied her. He'd been with Venalaris longer, knew he wasn't as good as his gracious veneer presented itself to be. She'd only wanted his praises, his pride and cold love. It'd been what drove her to be competitive as she was. What had turned them into bitter rivals as they fought to be the best.
"Go put some ice on that." Wrong, he knew he shouldn't have said it the moment he spoke the words, but too late.
Sadima's free hand sailed upwards, fist harshly colliding into his jaw, knocking his head aside and stumbling back. He reached up, pressing his hand to his angry, sweltering cheek as he panned back.
"Yoooou should go put some ice on that," she quipped smugly, feline smirk tilting her lips as she rocked back cheerily on her heels. Arrogant, she was arrogant.
"I think {INSERT} could hit harder then you," he retorted nonchalantly, flicking his fingers over towards the small, Teledden boy who stood watching owlishly where the hedge bushes ended.
Thud. He glanced towards the source of the noise, only to find Sadima's fists raised before her smiling features, her bow dropped carelessly to the grass. "Let's see what you got then, pretty boy." The young redhead bounced with energy, shifting her weight on her heels, a challenging smile bright upon her porcelain, lovely features. It was becoming more and more rare to see her smile.
What? Azekiel blinked from his thoughts, turning away from her as he tossed out a hand, releasing a laugh. "I couldn't, I'd feel bad," he replied nonchalantly, knowing full well it'd wound her pride.
"What's going on here?" A smooth, velvety, Ithanian voice asked from their left, he felt himself freeze a little, just as much as he felt Sadima go rigid under him, both heads turning in that direction.
"Ah shit." Sadima muttered.
Both teens watched as a tall, lengthy, blonde Altalar moved across the lawn towards them. He was older looking, more so than them. But his ageless, pale face gave no hint to his real age, though Azekeil knew he was far older than both of them. Like {INSERT}, he sported pale blonde hair that was pulled into a long, sleek ponytail down his back.
Venalaris.
{INSERT}
REWORKING.
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