Of Pups and Hounds

Of Pups and Hounds
Summary: Paule tells Tomas the story of his hounds. Tomas.. doesn't seem to accept the story.
Date: 20 June 2013
Related: Request Declined
Paule Tomas 

Will fix.
20 June 1329

Tomas nods toward the Riedel, "Aye, but I am certain those damn Tanifords do not view us as weak. If they do, they are more foolish than we though." His attention turns toward Westmark, he changes the subject, "How did your meeting with the King go? I have told him of your…" a long, very long pause is given before the Prince continues, "…regards." After saying this, the Prince then bows to the Baron in a very flamboyant manner, perhaps sarcastically, as if he were bowing to another royal out of respect.

"I concur. However, Stefan seemed so anxious to get himself out of Wolveshire, he made some concessions that perhaps he should not have. At that point, it was too late for me to counsel our Liege to disallow it." Neale watches the actions of Tomas, and allows himself a confused raising of a brow, but only for a moment. He then widens his stance slightly, his hands clasping behind his back, as he added, "That reminds me, actually, Baron Westmark. Would you and your family be so kind as to dine with myself and my family this evening?" There is a pause, then he hastily adds, "And Lord Tomas, of course."

"The meeting with King Breac was pushed back to this evening, unfortunately." Paule says with a considering glance. "Perhaps afterwards, we could, Your Grace, but being the border land between Taniford and Rhaedan, we have a great number of things to discuss and prepare for." he says with a brief sigh. "Lady Coriaria is actively seeking to meet with your daughter however, Duke Riedel. She wishes to make new friends as she prepares for the time that she becomes Baroness." Tomas gets a slight look, and the Baron just shakes his head a little.

Tomas frowns at the prospect of the Westmarks perhaps being too busy for the feast that the Riedel has offered. He turns then toward the Duke, offering a nod and a bow of his head as the Duke is called away by a messenger. After a moment, he looks back to Paule, shifting his weight as he leans against the wall. "The King told me he is looking forward to your meeting. I informed him of your cooperation concerning the defense of Rhaedan. He is quite pleased and I believe he will reward your loyalty."

A bow is offered to the departing Duke's back. Paule just has much on his plate. Such is his life. "And I am looking forward to speaking to him with my wife." he says simply as he considers Tomas for a moment and then looks back out over the land. "I did not get to visit Court much as a child." he ventures. "I was five the last time I was here - when my parents introduced me as the Heir of the lands, as I had lived to my fifth summer."

Tomas raises both brows as the Baron begins speaking of his childhood. He shifts his weight once more, a look of confusion riding his face. Surely, the Baron must be going somewhere with this, right? The Prince turns his attention toward the lands below, peering through the arrow slits as he leans against the wall once more, "I grew up in court," he admits. "However, I spent most of my days in the library, studying. The pursuit of knowledge was an early practice that I learned, from my father."

"I had a dog. A bog hound. His name was Titan." Paule says as he leans against the arrow port. "Beautiful creature, brown and black, and coarse hair. He was my gift when I was an infant, and he was my loyal protector. I was able to ride him around like a horse at times." he says. "He even came with me to court." he says, considering for a moment, before he continues.

"When the corsairs came, he went with the other hounds, as he was one of the defenders of the land as well." he says as he draws in a breath. "He took several arrows in his side and died. I was sad and upset for several days." he says as he looks out over the land. "My mother attempted to give me another puppy. Same colors and all. Looked just like my Titan. But it wasn't my Titan. I had to realize that my Titan was gone and I'd never get him back. Even now, with Goliath, I know that he is not my Titan. My first. I had to find something different and not dwell in the past. I had to find something different. Something new. I couldn't dwell in the past. Know what I mean?"

Tomas turns sharply toward Paule. Yes. He was going somewhere with this, after all. And, to think, the Prince had begun to assume he was just rambling. He clears his throat, before looking back to the land below. When he speaks, his voice is tired, yet strained. "I do understand. I understand completely." After this, he falls silent for several moments, before looking back to the Baron, "So, I must assume then, that you swore off bog hounds from that day, forever?" He turns back to the Baron, both brows shooting in the air, "And what if you found another hound that could make you happy, as before? Would you sware that hound away, because you loved another?" Yes, Tomas could play this game as well. He then leans against the wall once more, "I had heard that you were a bog hound breeder." The last sentence is spoken as if the Baron had indeed sworn off the animal.

"Oh no, I still have a bog hound. Goliath is my pride and joy. But I didn't take him in as a mere puppy, claim him as my own and then tried to assume to make him to grow up to be just like Titan." Paule says calmly. "I let him grow up, learn his own way and when he was old enough for us to work together as a team, then I took him in. Age begots experience. And while a puppy may be young and cute, you learn at my age, that they are more trouble than they are worth at times and that the age gap makes it hard for them to understand what you want and vice versa. If I were to suggest a bog hound for you, I would suggest one that has had experience and is trained, and can adapt to your wants and needs and is not so.. difficult at times."

Tomas frowns toward the Baron, a slight shake of his head is given. "Aye, but you do not understand me at all, do you Baron? I do not make rash decisions. Sometimes, it may seem that my decisions are rash, but they most definitely are not. While others toil away over a barrel of mead or wine, I contemplate, think, rationalize. My wisdom is beyond most men my own age, and most men my superiors as well. When I see something that I want, I go after it. It matters not what the obstacles are, or what difficulties arise. I do not quit a problem because it is hard, or because I do not understand it. Nay, I try harder, and eventually, I conquer the task." He then moves to pat the Baron on the shoulder, "Yes, Baron Westmark. I believe I will have my bog hound, and I will have her father's approval." The last statement is said firmly, but respectfully.

A chuckle is given as the Baron turns away. "Plucking a puppy away because it reminds someone of their beloved hound that passed. I'd suggest you find someone more seasoned and long of tooth." Paule says calmly as he starts to walk. "After all, after barely a week is rather rash - and such words would make a breeder of bog hounds wonder if you border on an unhealthy obsession that you will try to imprint and abuse on a puppy." he says and then pauses. "It is not the father you have to worry so much about the father. Mother bog hounds are the most dangerous of them all." he comments as he continues on. "And right now, I doubt the mother hound would accept your scent on her pups."

Tomas does not move to follow the Baron. He simply offers a bow, ever so slightly, before turning back to the lands below. His gaze wonders as does his mind. All this talk of bog hounds makes the Prince wish for one of the pups, and not the metaphorical kind. "Perhaps I shall find me a puppy," he comments to the Royal Guard standing next to him.

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