general insanity

Seia: "You asked me to promise not to harm your father, which I will not promise."

Priya: "He is my family. And if you're with me, he is your family as well....Is it customary in Harad to harm the bride's father? Do you not respect your elders?"

​Seia: "If I did not fight my elders, I would still be in Harad....And I do not think you have asked my mother's permission for marriage."

The Old man’s convoy was passing Bree, but as many knew one could rarely just pass Bree. The Town had it’s own, often cruel, will. Priya had tried her best to avoid the place and she had argued against staying in the Town, but Elroy had managed to get his way through. He wanted to stay in the Pony and she, as a new comer, had no right to change their travel plans.

The sky was covered with bleak grey clouds. Priya sat on a trembling front bench of an old wooden caravan, her head turned to her side and her vacant stare directed over a barren field. Some stray locks of her black hair were dancing in front of her face in the freezing wind. The horse pulling the caravan was old and lazy. So the speed was not that breath-taking. Norman, the one-eared hound, was sitting between Priya’s legs, half-observant half-asleep. Meanwhile Ginger, the auburn-furred hound, was padding briskly beside the horse.  

Priya entered the Kennel, having spent the entire day cleaning up the storage hut situated behind the main building. She smiled at the sight of Seia, who seemed to be leaning against the table, his back towards the door. ”You’re back,” she said smiling, while hanging her cloak and scarf on the wall. Seia didn’t turn to face her. ”Yes. I was at the tavern, here in town.” Priya stepped behind Seia, attempting to see over his shoulder, pondering what was he looking at on the table. There was nothing there.