She Wasn’t That Kind of Girl.
Thomas Caspartin woke languidly with the sound of waves crashing in his ears. The itch of plush grass ran across his back, and his vision cleared to find an early morning moon still hung. Stirring to find his clothing nearby, the memories of the night before scurried through his mind. A loud tavern, and a pretty blue-eyed lass. He had danced with her, and she had corrected his straying hands, coyly declaring she wasn’t that kind of woman. Thomas found he was atop one of the many towering cliffs that rose from the waters of Dar’Salne. He also found his boots, and a woman’s imprint in the grass next to him. “Guess you were that kind of women.” He murmured satisfactorily.
After a short search for a way down, he spotted the beginning of a rope ladder on the cliff edge and began lowering himself down. The action of doing so sprung forth the hazy memory of having climbed the same ladder. He had been singing a sailors song, and the feminine voice behind him had giggled fiercely. Taking his mind from the night before, he tried concentrating on footing. Still a bit drunk, Thomas’ right leg missed a rung, causing him to cling to the dangling ladder. A familiar feminine laughter echoed on the Cliffside. “You look like a kitten in a tree.” Ignoring the emasculating comment, he made himself relax and begin climbing down until he reached a sturdy wooden platform that made a sort of dock at the base of the cliff. A dark haired woman awaited him, curls and clothing in disarray. She was attractive with lips for kissing and black lashes four miles long… but her eyes were brown.
“Guess she wasn’t that kind of girl” he thought. “You land on your feet, at least.” the woman mused aloud. A rowboat rocked at the dockside, tied with a thin line. “You trying to maroon me here?” Thomas asked jokingly.
“I could have last night, if it were my intent.”
She took a step closer to him and laid a hand on his chest, looking up into his tanned face and green eyes. “You went through all the trouble of undressing me, and fell asleep.” The woman’s eyes flashed and her hand stiffened as she moved to push Thomas into the cold bay water. With one graceful movement, Thomas switched sideways, grabbed the women’s now out-stretched hand and stopped her from falling into the water.
“It wasn’t personal”, He pleaded as she whipped around in his grasp to face him. “You’re as pretty as they come, but yesterday was my first day at shore for 8 months and I drank a pigs weight in liquor. Her face softened a bit. “You swear it?” Thomas shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember most of it. But it’s not like me to opossum just so I don’t have to lay with a woman.” A small-balled fist hit into his chest, and Thomas stifled a chuckle. She turned away and untied the vessel, snatching up the oars and plopping onto the bench seat. “You plan on leaving me here, lass?” Thomas chuckled. “With a schoolmarms headache and no ale to ease it?” The woman nodded, with a face that dared him to say she couldn’t.
Thomas Caspertin, annoyed as he was, decided to swat the hive. “I thought I might wake to a fair eyed girl.” Instead of the slit eyed gaze he expected, the girls eyes went wide and her face blanched. Her eyes flickered to a sky blue, and then flicked back to brown. Thomas rolled his eyes in understanding and cursed a blue streak, as he strode onto the rowboat and sat opposite of the changeling. “For Aure’s sake, tell me you’re really a woman!” The changeling smirked and began to row towards shore. “Don’t I LOOK like a woman?” Thomas ignored the acid in the words and squinted at the rising sun. “You definitely act like one.”
Thomas Caspartin woke languidly with the sound of waves crashing in his ears. The itch of plush grass ran across his back, and his vision cleared to find an early morning moon still hung. Stirring to find his clothing nearby, the memories of the night before scurried through his mind. A loud tavern, and a pretty blue-eyed lass. He had danced with her, and she had corrected his straying hands, coyly declaring she wasn’t that kind of woman. Thomas found he was atop one of the many towering cliffs that rose from the waters of Dar’Salne. He also found his boots, and a woman’s imprint in the grass next to him. “Guess you were that kind of women.” He murmured satisfactorily.
After a short search for a way down, he spotted the beginning of a rope ladder on the cliff edge and began lowering himself down. The action of doing so sprung forth the hazy memory of having climbed the same ladder. He had been singing a sailors song, and the feminine voice behind him had giggled fiercely. Taking his mind from the night before, he tried concentrating on footing. Still a bit drunk, Thomas’ right leg missed a rung, causing him to cling to the dangling ladder. A familiar feminine laughter echoed on the Cliffside. “You look like a kitten in a tree.” Ignoring the emasculating comment, he made himself relax and begin climbing down until he reached a sturdy wooden platform that made a sort of dock at the base of the cliff. A dark haired woman awaited him, curls and clothing in disarray. She was attractive with lips for kissing and black lashes four miles long… but her eyes were brown.
“Guess she wasn’t that kind of girl” he thought. “You land on your feet, at least.” the woman mused aloud. A rowboat rocked at the dockside, tied with a thin line. “You trying to maroon me here?” Thomas asked jokingly.
“I could have last night, if it were my intent.”
She took a step closer to him and laid a hand on his chest, looking up into his tanned face and green eyes. “You went through all the trouble of undressing me, and fell asleep.” The woman’s eyes flashed and her hand stiffened as she moved to push Thomas into the cold bay water. With one graceful movement, Thomas switched sideways, grabbed the women’s now out-stretched hand and stopped her from falling into the water.
“It wasn’t personal”, He pleaded as she whipped around in his grasp to face him. “You’re as pretty as they come, but yesterday was my first day at shore for 8 months and I drank a pigs weight in liquor. Her face softened a bit. “You swear it?” Thomas shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember most of it. But it’s not like me to opossum just so I don’t have to lay with a woman.” A small-balled fist hit into his chest, and Thomas stifled a chuckle. She turned away and untied the vessel, snatching up the oars and plopping onto the bench seat. “You plan on leaving me here, lass?” Thomas chuckled. “With a schoolmarms headache and no ale to ease it?” The woman nodded, with a face that dared him to say she couldn’t.
Thomas Caspertin, annoyed as he was, decided to swat the hive. “I thought I might wake to a fair eyed girl.” Instead of the slit eyed gaze he expected, the girls eyes went wide and her face blanched. Her eyes flickered to a sky blue, and then flicked back to brown. Thomas rolled his eyes in understanding and cursed a blue streak, as he strode onto the rowboat and sat opposite of the changeling. “For Aure’s sake, tell me you’re really a woman!” The changeling smirked and began to row towards shore. “Don’t I LOOK like a woman?” Thomas ignored the acid in the words and squinted at the rising sun. “You definitely act like one.”
