When one had spent their entire life in various tents and caravans, could it really be called leaving home? Home was indicative that there was some kind of house there. Whisper Forest was something of a home to him, after all, it was where the tiny travelling circus came to rest when they weren't touring. Even so, it wasn't really the same. There had never been much stability, they were just waiting until next season, or until the next show. Come to think of it, Rhett didn't think he minded the travelling so much, it was just everything else. People loved the circus, they loved the mystery and intrigue of such a place, after all, it wasn't like the gaudy, loud, clown infested circuses most people were used to. There was the fire eater, and the acrobats, the dancers and the jugglers. There was the strange, slightly eerie magician who's assistants never seemed to stay long, in many ways it was the more humane version of those dark, Victorian circuses which had once existed.
While the inhabitants of the circus had been interesting to speak with, and their advice had never gone amiss, there was no way on Evelon that he could be expected to work there. He supposed to have been a fire tamer, but he just couldn't bare it. He hated circus life, he hated how he was supposed to just do whatever his father told him. There'd been something so rigid and enclosed about the circus, the others didn't seem to mind it, but they'd seen the outside world, they'd chosen to come here. He'd had no choice in the matter. So he'd left, with a dozen ideas and an accordion under one arm.
Evening had set in, the skies in it's grasp. The sunset colours weren't going to give way to the pinky hues of dawn for a long while yet, the fiery sky seemed to be doing it's best to hold of the night too. Almost as if it wanted to be center strange for just a little while longer. There'd been little wind all day, in fact everything was excruciatingly still. The trees seemed to be nothing but statues, the animals waiting for something more interesting to happen. The roosting birds argued amongst themselves, fighting over the best places to sleep. Somewhere in a hollow or old bird house, the bats were waking, perhaps pausing to brush their teeth or come their fur before they flew out into the twilight.
Rhett sighed, it was hard to look apathetic and soulful when you were completely ginger. It was a curse, at times, it really was. Still, some people might mistake him for an Irish drunk and take pity on him. If there was anyone around, that was. The forests had been decidedly quiet all day, just himself and several indignant forest creatures who hadn't taken a liking to his accordion playing. It wasn't like the reactions of a few raccoons were going to deter the young man from playing one of his songs. It would take the explosion of a volcano or a thunderbolt from a displeased god for Rhett to even look up from his music. Even then he'd probably just sigh, mutter something about 'distractions' and go back to playing something very old and sad sounding.
A fire crackled merrily, close by. Perhaps a little too merrily and perhaps a little too close. It didn't seem as if that bothered the young musician though. If anything, the fire seemed to be a too small for him, as he kept throwing the odd stick into the blaze. Rhett had no reason to fear fire, it wasn't like he was unused to that element, after all. Traces of years old burns were dotted across his hands. He'd given up with fire for the most part, atleast he'd given up preforming with it. It was always best to have to have some source of heat when travelling through a place like the Roraldi forests.
While the inhabitants of the circus had been interesting to speak with, and their advice had never gone amiss, there was no way on Evelon that he could be expected to work there. He supposed to have been a fire tamer, but he just couldn't bare it. He hated circus life, he hated how he was supposed to just do whatever his father told him. There'd been something so rigid and enclosed about the circus, the others didn't seem to mind it, but they'd seen the outside world, they'd chosen to come here. He'd had no choice in the matter. So he'd left, with a dozen ideas and an accordion under one arm.
Evening had set in, the skies in it's grasp. The sunset colours weren't going to give way to the pinky hues of dawn for a long while yet, the fiery sky seemed to be doing it's best to hold of the night too. Almost as if it wanted to be center strange for just a little while longer. There'd been little wind all day, in fact everything was excruciatingly still. The trees seemed to be nothing but statues, the animals waiting for something more interesting to happen. The roosting birds argued amongst themselves, fighting over the best places to sleep. Somewhere in a hollow or old bird house, the bats were waking, perhaps pausing to brush their teeth or come their fur before they flew out into the twilight.
Rhett sighed, it was hard to look apathetic and soulful when you were completely ginger. It was a curse, at times, it really was. Still, some people might mistake him for an Irish drunk and take pity on him. If there was anyone around, that was. The forests had been decidedly quiet all day, just himself and several indignant forest creatures who hadn't taken a liking to his accordion playing. It wasn't like the reactions of a few raccoons were going to deter the young man from playing one of his songs. It would take the explosion of a volcano or a thunderbolt from a displeased god for Rhett to even look up from his music. Even then he'd probably just sigh, mutter something about 'distractions' and go back to playing something very old and sad sounding.
A fire crackled merrily, close by. Perhaps a little too merrily and perhaps a little too close. It didn't seem as if that bothered the young musician though. If anything, the fire seemed to be a too small for him, as he kept throwing the odd stick into the blaze. Rhett had no reason to fear fire, it wasn't like he was unused to that element, after all. Traces of years old burns were dotted across his hands. He'd given up with fire for the most part, atleast he'd given up preforming with it. It was always best to have to have some source of heat when travelling through a place like the Roraldi forests.
((Sorry for the wait <3 Click Image for human form.))
The leaves crackled as Sapphires boots trudged along the forest floor. She was utterly exauhsted, but there was no way in hell she'd be going back 
