vllagr-blog - Tumblr blog

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good GOD        let me give you my LIFE

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ncblelineage:

     “Yeah yeah, I promise.”

Honestly, was he that untrustworthy? True, he did look like he was about to rob the entire camp and leave them all to die, but that wasn’t his fault. Brady just had a mean mug, something he was just born with for one reason or another. Hmph.

               Apparently, he’s been deemed worthy of whatever she is doing. He is yanked into her tent with a surprised yelp that he would gladly pretend never came out of his mouth. The tall priest stumbles into the tent and uses his staff to gain his footing, looking at her incredulously. But as he’s about to berate her, the noise next to him alerts him to something there.

The ever-so-tiny meow makes yet another nosie leave Brady’s lips, but this time he doesn’t bother to cover it up. He just kneels down next to the small, black creature, a gentle hand stroking down his fur. All while he’s talking, Brady’s hand never stops petting the cat.

               “I’unno if we can keep ‘im, but he sure is fuckin’ cute. Have ya gots any food t’give ‘im? Water maybe? Checked ‘im over for any injuries at all?”

      A small smile takes Kendra’s lips as Brady is so easily won over by the small kitten, watching as a few strokes on that dirty coat begin to earn a sleepy purr.

          “I got a bowl o’ water for ‘im, and fed ‘im some chicken from lunch. I wanted you t’ take a look an’ see if he’s hurt, though. Seems pretty lazy for a kitten...”

Then again, maybe he’s just taking the moment of kindness to catch up on much-needed sleep.

          But this is why Kendra had sought out her brother for this. As kind-hearted as she is, she doesn’t know much about healing or the like. She was always better with a spear than a staff, so she hopes Brady might know what to do about the little guy.

The kitten stretches after a moment, though when his front paws move to extend, he hisses, hastily retracting them and licking at his left. A break, maybe, though Kendra isn’t sure what to do about it.

                      “Now that I think ‘bout it, he hasn’t really walked much. I kinda carried ‘im everywhere...”

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in my creative writing class today, our assignment was to create a character so naturally i made a libra fanchild

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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME GO.

( IMG SRC. )

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starter call!!!

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@of-invisible-ties

       “Sorry, Sir Chrom, but I gotta insist...”

She trusts their tactician, yes, but... she also knows that Chrom can overturn their decisions. They’ll be heading to battle tomorrow morning against a small, die-hard army of Valmese, and her father will be in the front lines. Kendra knows that Donnel is strong, perhaps better than anyone else, but... she still worries. If he gets hurt or... worse...

                  “I can take his place, Sir. Ain’t anybody’s future ridin’ on my shoulders.”

Her father... he’s a hero, in his future. A loving father, an inspiration to his village, an endearing husband to her mother... Her future is already written with his. If she dies here, in this past, will anything happen? She... doubts it. Nothing would change, would it?

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@tacentpennae

         “Yer a sweet girl, ain’tcha?”

It’s more often than not that Kendra finds herself wandering to the horses, ensuring they’re all taken care of and getting the rest they deserve. The pegusi rest here as well, and she’s currently brushing Cordelia’s steed, picking out dead or bent feathers from hard working wings.

                    “Proud of ya... Such a hard worker! Jus’ like yer master, huh?”

She jumps a bit when she hears the door open, worried someone has overheard her rather lengthy conversation with the animals. Frederick’s horse blows at her, as if laughing at her.

             “Ah, Lady Cordelia! I don’t mean t’ intrude...”

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@ncblelineage

      “Ya promise?”

It’s said with a deadly insinuation that any breakage of a promise will result in... well, whatever punishment Kendra could whip up. Though, she’s never been good at keeping secrets herself, so maybe she won’t hold Brady to it as much as she implies.

               She sizes him up before pulling him into her tent, the sunshine filtering through the fabric to light up the interior with a gentle glow. But there’s a hole in her roof, letting in a perfect ray of sunshine, and there’s a dozing black cat laying right in the warmth of the sun and her bedroll.

She steps over to sit beside him, stirring the little guy as he gives a chirrup of a meow, but doesn’t seem inclined to leave his napping spot.

                “I found ‘im huntin’ frogs down by the river. Poor baby was starvin’... I couldn’t just leave him there!”

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@etoileprxnce

       “Y’know, Inigo, it ain’t what other people think of ya that makes ya who ya are.”

It’s something that she noticed relatively quickly. Something even she had picked up in childhood. (Papa always did say she had a sense for that.) The way Inigo would reach out to others, usually women, and usually by flirting, for some sort of affirmation. That he’s handsome, that he’s kind, strong, etc, etc... Always looking for someone else to tell him.

                   “Yer strong and talented, and y’ain’t gonna need any city girl t’ tell ya that.”

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ain’t nothin’ in the whole wide world                                         quite like a sweet li’l country girl

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these lil mini promos travel fast, so please like/reblog if you’d be interested in interacting with an indie donnel fankid and i’ll come check you out~!