dontaddwater (
dontaddwater) wrote in
circle72011-12-29 01:07 pm
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Continuation from fagsona pt. 2
Altair hopped down from his own horse, tying him to the opposite post. He untied his bags, tugging a fruit out of one of them, holding it out to his horse. It began to eat it enthusiastically, nipping bites from it until it was down to the core itself.
"It was... difficult," he said, the admission itself difficult. Altair ran his free hand down the horse's mane, trying to distract himself from a conversation he didn't want to have.
"It was... difficult," he said, the admission itself difficult. Altair ran his free hand down the horse's mane, trying to distract himself from a conversation he didn't want to have.

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After a second or so, he fumbled away from Malik, eyes wide. Of all the days for this!
"I- no! It's..." Altair didn't dare stand; it'd make the embarrassment worse. (His glaringly red face didn't said enough on its own.) He bundled his robes closer to him. "It's nothing!"
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"I am afraid I don't," he reiterated, and as he felt himself begin to calm, he finally got to his feet. Altair wasted no time in hopping onto his horse, tying his bag behind him. He grabbed his canteen of water out of the side pack, drinking some, and pouring a bit onto his hand to splash on his face. The morning was cool, but his face was burning. Altair did not remember what he dreamed to cause his reaction, but he cursed whatever it may have been.
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He was unusually quiet for a good while. The dawn was seeping warmth into the sky and air, oranges and pinks replacing deep blue and veiling the stars again. The sun would peak through the hills now and then as they furthered down their path, casting long shadows over the grounds. Altair took these sorts of mornings for granted, most days.
Even minutes down their path, Altair did not speak a word. Perhaps he was still annoyed at Malik, or was not a morning conversationalist - or both.
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Several miles later, they arrived in their target city. There was a small market set outside the city gates populated with merchants dressed in middle-class garb. They sold a variety of crafts and crops, and added color to the otherwise dry scenery with their dyed goods. There were guards interspersed among the droves of people, but none seemed too alert. Altair and Malik were able to make their way to the stables with ease.
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Upon reaching the stables, Altair leaped off the horse, pulling him by the reigns under the awning. He tied the horse to the rail, looking to Malik.
"Let us make haste."
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"He should be in the center of the town," Altair said to Malik, close enough where the noise of the streets hid their voices from anyone else but themselves. "He is meeting with someone. We are to listen in, and strike once they separate."
They were looking for a man named Hazim, and another named Fayyad. Their meeting carried important information about weapon trading; specifically for an attack. It was vital to leave with the information, and without the two alive.
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They kept a safe distance, silently tailing the men. Their targets were familiar to these crowds, weaving carefully through them, and wisely avoiding alleys. A couple minutes of trailing brought no suspicion, but the area was becoming less populated. Just as Altair was considering a new hiding spot, the two men slipped into a building. It was tall, almost church-like, and what windows it did have were high.
"There's probably a room in back where they will meet," Altair said, heading towards the back of the building, flexing his fingers to get ready to climb.
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