Snatching up the Solomon's Seal, Oliver hopes rose, Roma's hyperbole of a sigh jutting his spirits sky high. Even as his stomach did loop de loops at the thought of climbing the mountain path. He didn't want to doubt Roma- she would've accounted for their vastly differing sizes, and picked the according trail. Right?
Right.
So why did it the journey up feel like it was sucking up all his energy, like the very mountain was relishing the taste of his exasperation? He scrabbled up the rocks that his guide easily leaped over. He admired her agility. And her confidence. Confidence probably came in spades when you were that size.
He wasn't jealous though. Over the months with Galley, his size had proven useful as well- from squeezing into tight spaces, to baiting larger wolves to leave caches, open and ready for stealing from. He could easily dodge and slip between legs as he left them befuddled in the dust.
As it was now however, he was indeed huffing and puffing behind Andromache as he struggled to reach footholds, jump onto small ledges, and generally just try to keep up with the Amazonian wonder currently mimicking a mountain goat.
He was proud in the fact that, through all his struggles to keep up with his new friend, the Solomon's Seal never left his mouth. Score one for clamped jaws of exhausted terror.
(This post was last modified: Nov 11, 2014, 04:06 AM by Oliver.)