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Post by corbin elliot tharme on Oct 22, 2011 23:28:27 GMT
  It was Sunday, and the day of rest for most. Thankfully on this most beautiful of autumn days, Lord Andrew had asked Corbin for only a few errands, and most were just picking up things in town. Flowers for Lady Dalton, some chocolates for the children and some more butter and butcher's meat for the kitchens. The autumn leaves were turning golden and floating gently toward the ground. Andrew had also permitted that Corbin could take an hour or two for himself once he reached town, before coming back with the items that he'd asked for. Excitedly, he'd scooped up his sketchbook from his bed and the pencil that lay next to it, and came to town as quickly as he could. The town centre was most beautiful in the light of the day, and although it was a little chilly, Corbin had been too glad to get away from the estate that he hadn't thought too much about the cold.
He took a seat on the benches in the town centre and positioned himself at the old town cross. It had been there for so many years that everyone had lost count, but it was clearly a few hundred years old. He liked that, as it was part of the town, perhaps from the very beginning, he wasn't sure, but he played it as so in his head. It was nice to think that such a link from the past was here today, and it was nice to think that so many people before him had looked at this cross and it may have pleased them. It may not have, but still, that wasn't the point. Corbin liked to think like that. He liked the past but very much looked forward to the future, and all the opportunities in it. He was an opportunist, but sometimes he missed out because he was too busy helping someone else, but he didn't regret that. After all, he was there to help, and that meant Lords and servants and anyone else who needed it. Just the other week a maid had been ill and he'd made sure she had water and a bucket and plenty of blankets before going to bed himself.
He'd even offered to watch over her. His hand slid over the page softly, careful not to smudge the pencil marks that he'd made already. He liked drawing scenery. People, he couldn't do so well, but scenery he was good at. He was modest about it though so if anyone had asked him if he was good, he'd have said no and believed that too. Light was harder to capture so Corbin promised himself that he would put plenty of detail and attention and care into the shadows of the cross. He wanted it as lifelike and realistic as he could. He heard someone drop beside him on the bench and it snapped his blue eyes out of their trance, and took them instead to the person sat beside him. "Good afternoon"
[/color] Corbin said, a warm smile on his lips although his hands were already getting cold. He was never anything but polite.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]
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