Eyes Like Demons

[Looshi]

Lorant gripped the leather reins in his hand, allowing the horse to stand a couple feet away from him. She plodded at the dusty ground with one of her hooves, and snorted. It was cold enough out to see the sheet of breath billow up and cloud the animal's face for a second. They had eyes like demons, all horses, but he had a special place for this one. Going by the name Esther, she was a sleek brown four year old used by the church for many purposes. Lorant would have been a happy man if none of those purposes included him.

   Hitched to the mare was a wagon, sturdy still despite the aging look of the wood, and it carried a store of food. Portions could be kept for long periods of time, such as dried out beef strips, however the majority was frivolous. And valuable when it wasn't on the ground. Lorant had been able to lead the horse for a good while before she decided she would rather try to bite him and stop in her tracks. Esther shook against the reins, baying and jerking her head up and down growing more restless.

    Lorant held out a red apple to her, hunching over in an attempt to make himself appear smaller than he was and spoke in soft even tones. A couple of years ago he had spooked a horse into throwing a wild fit around town, causing a great deal of damage to the few grocer stalls set up in the market. For that, he was only allowed to be around them for certain occasions.

   The reason wasn't soldiers being camped outside the walls of Vestalla, and that it was customary of the church, if it can spare it, to bring food as a blessing for their journey from St. Svan. No. It would be uncomplicated, and one of the other Brothers or Sisters could have endured mucking through the cold weather with a temperamental mare. Lorant was instead here because of the Bishop's hand. He still bore the red mark on his neck when the flat of a silver knife rested its greedy face on him the night before; a reminder that while he could argue, and rant, and stomp his feet like a small child it would never be him that held the lead. He was lucky it didn't bite into his skin with it being close to the full moon, Gilroy had told him when he saw Lorant rubbing at it. Right. Lucky.

   He really was on the last of his strategies. People passed him by, not offering to help. Some stopped for a moment to watch him try and tease the horse forward then left on their way, too. Lorant met their backs with a dark scowl.

   "I could make you play fetch for this," He said. With the apple in hand he made vague gestures towards the direction he wanted Esther to start meandering to, and ended with a cheeky grin.  "but I won't."

[Anonymous]

Quinlan was heading back to the camp, a pack on his back filled with ale from town. He had gotten the short straw and been sent into town to get some booze form him and his friends. He paused, watching the scene with the cute tall guy and the horse. The horse seemed to hate the guy, and Quinlan had learned first hand how temperamental horses could be.

Plus, the guy was good looking. Always fun to help out the good looking ones.

Despite being almost a foot shorter, Quinlan reached up on tiptoes to sling an arm around the guys shoulder, "Hi there pretty! You look like you need some help!"

[Looshi]

"That's how nice I am." He said, Esther huffed at him and jerked back on the reins. "'ey!"

It wasn't enough to take Lorant off of his feet, his stance was firm and he was expecting a reaction, what concerned him was the sound of clinking in the back of the wagon. He was distracted by the horse when he caught the scent of ale and the musky sort of smell soldiers only get when they travel. An arm slung itself over the shoulders of his slouched form. When Lorant turned his head to look the face of the stranger, who with such ease invaded his personal space, he at first expected someone different than what was looking back at him.

"What?" He said, eyes squinting, and a corner of his lip curled up. He heard those words, or that particular one, from little old ladies with failing sight. Not from young men. Unless they were amidst immature taunting. It was always a good to see how far you could push a marked mage. Yes. Nothing bad about that idea. But, he had no time to be angry when enaged in battle with a horse which would cheer to see him stamped to the ground.

"Here," Lorant shoved the reins and the apple into the young man's arms as he shrugged him off his own shoulders. He did not wait for an answer, he was offered the help. "Soldier, right? Staying outside of town? Lead her. This trouble is for your camp."

[Anonymous]

Quinlan grinned, taking the reigns and biting into the apple, "Oh yeah? What's all this then? For little old me?" He moved closer to the horse, chewing as he stroked her neck and offered the apple to her, "Now, you want me to help, I expect at least a name."

[Looshi]

Lorant stepped back, and stretched up to his full height to roll his shoulders. He didn't answer his 'helper' right away, no, the knots in his stomach were too busy tightening themselves. Relief swept over him when Esther didn't turn to bite the soldier's hand off when he reached to give her the apple, or go off sprinting down the road with the wagon flailing at her backside. He couldn't blame the horse for reacting so poor around him, animals had the knack of smelling on him what made him distinct and not human.

"You play high stakes," he said, one of his hands coming up to brush against the symbol of the church stitched onto his shirt. Either the young man, who had the certain face of being unmarred by the harsh climate, hadn't noticed he was a marked mage, or... he hadn't noticed. Lorant could count on his hands how many times people stopped to help him.

"Brother Lorant. Of the church." He said, with the lopsided smirk returning to his features. "Are you going to tell me your name," he made a slight gesture with his hand to the pack strapped on the soldier's back where he assumed the strong smell of ale that was rife in the air(to him) was coming from. "or am I going to have to call you the camp alcohol-fetcher?"

[Anonymous]

"Whoa! How did you know?" Quinlan was impressed, his eyes wide. He glanced behind him, trying to see if there was some tell-tale sign of the booze he was carrying. There didn't seem to be anything there, so the look he gave Lorant was even more filled stary-eyed wonder, "Pretty and smart! Man! Must be all that like, learnin' and shit the Church gives."

Quinlan had noticed the Mark, but, well, he had never really cared much about that stuff. He was in the church, so obviously he wasn't doing magic as far as Quinlan was concerned, "Man, yer tall too! Wish I was your height, that must be awesome. Oh! Name! Right! Quinlan at yer service! Have I impressed you yet? I'm told I talk too much, but that's just part of my charm, right?"

[Looshi]

"A good guess." He said. The certain star struck look on the soldier's face, or anyone's, would never cease to tease his growing lack respect for consequences. And it was worth it to feel an genuine grin pull at his cheeks. But it was more the younger folks that were surprised and intrigued by his bouts of 'good guessing'. The accusations of witchcraft came from the less naive and more cynical.

The solider cut him off when he tried to speak again. Lorant fell silent, his brow raising with fellow's fast paced voice. Charm wasn't a word he would have used. Esther however, had not made a sound since Quinlan approached her. So maybe it was. Maybe it only worked on horses.

"I've seen more impressive rabbits," he said with a laugh carried on his words, "if you can get that horse to the camp without turning her wild, I might reconsider that opinion."

[Anonymous]

"Ooooh. Yeah, guess that makes sense. But wow! Yer real smart then huh?" Quinlan was happily scratching the horse now, getting along fine with it as he watched Lorant with interest. He grinned at Lorant, not at all daunted, "That a deal then? Cause I'm willin' to go pretty far to impress cute church boys."

[Looshi]

Well, he could read. Although, all the clergy at Vestalla's church could. Intelligence wasn't a necessity, only privilege. Lorant couldn't say the sting of a Sister's disciplinary stick against his knuckles as a child brought fondness to the topic.  He would have gotten a good whap upside the head when he was small if found not saying his pleases and thank yous, which were devoid in his speech with Quinlan.

Esther's dark eyes watched him as he edged forward, his hands spaced out wide, palms towards her. From her previous actions, she didn't trust him, even if he seemed forthcoming. The young soldier's scratching split her attention at the very least.

"Never said it was a deal." He said, giving him a dark, brow furrowed stare. His lips still quirked into a smirk, but it was far less than welcoming. "Nor am I a boy. You are doing a favour for the church. That will be enough for you."

[Anonymous]

"Yer not a boy? Really? Ya look-OH!" Quinlan's puzzled expression brightened and he laughed, "Well, I'll give ya that. Yer all man." He edged closer, his eyes sliding up and down Lorant and he was very happily undressing him, "So, if I'm gonna be doin' a favor an' all, do I get a favor back? And, I gotta wonder, ya that furry all over? Cause I like a guy with a lotta chest hair ya know?"

[Looshi]

Lorant was readying to snap a retort when Quinlan questioned him. Instead, his expression fell with his eyes growing wider as the soldier moseyed along his trail of words; words that were fine alone, however when put into that particular order, made him pale. The gaze that was moving up and down the lines of his body, seeing what they only wanted to see, made him aware of how light his clothing was. The Brother of the church stayed quiet as Quinlan left the horse behind to take a couple of paces towards him.

"Only on the full moon." He said, trying to play off a haughty expression and not allow the soldier to know he had been taken aback. He didn't seem bright enough for Lorant to regret his words later, either. Regaining some composure, he pointed in the direction of where he wanted them to go. He leaned his face in closer to Quinlan. "Move the damn horse!"

[Anonymous]

Quinlan was going to say something. He had plans on words and behaving at least okay. But then Lorant went and put that pretty face all close to his. So before he had even finished his order, Quinlan closed the distance and planted a kiss right on Lorant's lips.

[Looshi]

His reaction wasn't quick enough. Lorant's breath caught in his throat, of all the different scenarios to have come out of his actions this was the least of his concerns. When he gave that glower, people did not pursue to kiss him. The thought in their minds would be whether or not he was going to go running to the church to tell on them.

One of his hands snapped up to grab Quinlan by the face, and pry him away. His fingers dug into the soldier's cheeks, and forcing his lips into an awkward purse. Lorant's lopsided smile had a way of reaching his eyes with the same sort of disdain.

"You won't do that again. Understand me?" He said, a low growl sat behind his voice, the kind one gets when a dog isn't sure if it wants to bark or bite you. "Or I'll have you branded as a magic-user."

He let him go.

[Anonymous]

Quinlan made a sound when Lorant grabbed him. He stared up into the older man's face, rubbing his face when Lorant let him go, "Well, next time, I'll just make sure ya ask for it first." He grinned, pale skin a vivid red where Lorant had grabbed him, "An' I bet ya wouldn't do that. Can ya do that? Don't they got like tests 'n stuff?"

He gave a small shrug, still talking, "How'd ya do that growl? That's pretty scary! Like a dog or somethin'. Can ya teach me? And you taste pretty good, just so ya know."

[Looshi]

Calm down, Lorant, calm down. At the back of his mind was an itch, and it took the form of the Bishop's voice. He couldn't say it was one of reason, more so the habitual reminder that he worked for the church. His actions, and his words reflected a different story. Shouldered on Lorant's back were burdens collecting, testing him. The events of the night before, the moon, the horse and now this rowdy teenager with a severe lack of hindsight. If he was still deemed savable by Ansgar through the work he did, piecing back his failing composure should have been an easier task. But the wolf stirred within him, beckoning for him to come and join in on the hunt.

"That would be ideal." He said, his gaze moving away from Quinlan's face, where he could see the red marks forming from the pressure of his fingers. To mar his skin in such a way was not his original intention, though it did not matter. They were there regardless. Esther, plodded at the ground, shaking her head and neck with her mane flailing. As Quinlan talked Lorant gave a wave in the horse's general direction, his eyebrows raising on his forehead. Answering all the teenager's questions was not a priority. And he was going to forget that last bit.

"All clergy can do it," He said, the previous vicious tone held out of his voice. "It keeps the little ones in order, Sister Fiona does it better than I do, trust me. You should ask her."

[Anonymous]

"Sister?" Quinlan perked up at that, moving back to where Esther was, hands stroking along her neck, finding the spots to scratch, "She pretty as you are?" He beamed, still not really aware of how dangerous it could be to piss Lorant off.

"Don't look so stuffy! Want some o' the ale I got?"

[Looshi]

"Yes, Sister." He said with a veiled exasperation clinging to his words. Fiona, herself, if Quinlan ever took it up to bother the woman, would see to it that Lorant spent a day or two in the church's kitchens to get him back for it. Depending on how long it takes her to give the boy a boot from the chapel. But it was worlds better than this. Lorant gave Esther a wide space as he made paces towards the end of the wagon.

He stopped to give Quinlan a cold stare opposite to the bright and exuberate expression plastered on the soldier's face. He was lucky that the street they remained stationary on, despite Lorant's insistence that they move, had cleared out with the exception of a few stranglers. Rumours spread further and quicker than any monster, and he was still shaken from the blatant invasion of his personal space and disregard for consent - not because it was a kiss from a soldier.  

"I don't drink with greenhorns, especially those who mock me." He said, pointing a finger in Quinlan's direction to emphasize before walking the rest of the way to the back of the wagon.

[Anonymous]

"Mock? What? I ain't mocked nobody." Quinlan just grinned, "Though I might start. What you mean greenhorn? Who says I can't drink? I'm gonna drink you under the table!" He stroked Esther a bit more before coaxing her to start walking, murmuring softly in her ear.

[Looshi]

Lorant's trip to inspect their cargo may have been for naught, for all of Esther's bad temper hadn't caused dishevelment in the baked goods, the preserves. He wasn't surprised at the jams. For the muck congealed in their jars might have just been a better tasting mortar quite like what kept making houses in Vestalla from collapsing in on themselves during windstorms.

   "That's a right lie!" He called back, not bothering to look to the head of the wagon where he would have seen Quinlan drawing close to the mare's ear. He could hear the barest whispers but paid no heed to the words. "You couldn't out drink me even if the ale was half water."

    Lorant didn't rest his hand on the side of the wagon for long, it slipped out from under his fingers as the horse began to plod along the mud road. The soldier's charm definitely worked on horses. He'd give him that.

[Anonymous]

"Is that a challenge? Because I accept sir!" Quinlan beamed again, a smile never far from his face. He kept Esther moving slowly along, stroking her neck and giving her a soft, comforting word when needed, "I have to say, you really should work on your temper. Makes you so sour even the animals don't like it. I bet you have a real pretty smile."