01-21-2014, 01:57 PM
The girl was all the more comely and diminished by her ill-fitting outerwear. She fidgeted before turning to greet him by running her palms along herself. Perhaps she was cold. The air seeped through the fibers of Dane's coat.
"I am not sure why you would think that."
He replied in regards to her expectation of solitude. They were in a public park, after all.
The social norm was to look one another in the eye and maintain some sort of mutually agreed upon safe-distance of personal space, but Dane came to stand alongside her regardless of what most people considered normal human behavior. Although Dane himself was of moderate height and slender framed, the girl seemed but a child in his shadow.
He leaned close to the monument, reading the name of who was beneath their feet. "Hmm. Because it's dead."
No sense of humor lightened his assessment. In fact, he was being quite helpful, coming up with the answer to her question as he had. Why was this one here, indeed. "That's the thing about death. It waits for us all."
Then he tucked his hands behind him and put steady, contemplative voice to the words of the famous English poet of the Victorian age. What a marvelous time to have lived.
"Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid."
"William Ernest Henley."
Dane finally twisted to look upon the face of the one who sought answers from him. "My name is Dane,"
he revealed, gentlemen's accent strong, but was quite content to not offer a handshake, nor stand any closer to her than he already did.
"I am not sure why you would think that."
He replied in regards to her expectation of solitude. They were in a public park, after all.
The social norm was to look one another in the eye and maintain some sort of mutually agreed upon safe-distance of personal space, but Dane came to stand alongside her regardless of what most people considered normal human behavior. Although Dane himself was of moderate height and slender framed, the girl seemed but a child in his shadow.
He leaned close to the monument, reading the name of who was beneath their feet. "Hmm. Because it's dead."
No sense of humor lightened his assessment. In fact, he was being quite helpful, coming up with the answer to her question as he had. Why was this one here, indeed. "That's the thing about death. It waits for us all."
Then he tucked his hands behind him and put steady, contemplative voice to the words of the famous English poet of the Victorian age. What a marvelous time to have lived.
"Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid."
"William Ernest Henley."
Dane finally twisted to look upon the face of the one who sought answers from him. "My name is Dane,"
he revealed, gentlemen's accent strong, but was quite content to not offer a handshake, nor stand any closer to her than he already did.