She rolls over, looking up at him, seeming far more awake than she should be if she just woke up at his words. "We ridin' out?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
She gets up silently, strapping on her sword and rolling up her blanket before saddling up her horse with ease.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Everything," she answers. "Dog hearing, remember?"
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
"Just... so you know... I do not have specific plans as of the moment," he informs her. "Just to get away is all. I was off the grid for quite some time when I was stuck in that cave... and I suppose word of me still being alive will very soon be circulating among the authorities and the bounty hunters... so it won't be long before I'll have many people from which to flee."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James froze for a second (though his horse still continued its trek forward). The word together seemed to catch him off guard in a way he had not anticipated - touching an emotion that he did not wish to experience. He'd grown so familiar with loneliness (even amongst others) that to experience anything other than felt... wrong. He simply nodded. "Yes."
Her gaze meanders upwards, lingering on the stars. There's a certain sadness there. These constellations, this sky, that moon...these are not her own, the ones she was born under and lived by her entire life.
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
James follows the path of her gaze and watches her eye lifst to the stars. He cannot see her clearly in the shade of the tree under the moonlight, but he can clearly recognize the look - for it was one he knew very well. She's far from home.
After a moment of silence between them, filled with the occasional chirping of a bell-bug and other nocturnal critters, James began to speak, softly.
"There's this old tale that my mother used to tell me whenever we sat outside on our porch and looked up at the stars. There are these three bright ones to the north -" he pauses, and lifts his hand to point through the trees. "Coupled together like a triangle. My mother used to say that those stars were actually dragons. The dragon of the stars, the dragon of the sky, and the dragon of the moon... and that they made their home in the heavens because they were the only three who could not watch over their elements from the earth. So instead they watched over them, and over us, in the sky. I remember one night I told her that it must be terribly lonely for them, to be so far from everyone else. But she said that they were never lonely, because they had each other."
He pauses for a moment, thinking carefully of what to say next.
"...I think of that whenever I look at the sky," he explains wistfully, his voice quiet, but not lacking confience so much as it is energy.
"Three stars of the north...We just have one. Akaron...Hope."
"All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost."
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