[ He does think he's so funny, thank you very much.
For all that, though, Thancred does settle in and focus after that, listening to Stephen's instructions and doing his very best to follow them. It is not in his nature to simply let all of the weight he's taken onto his shoulders fall away, and so it might take him longer than most to find that clear-minded, meditative state that they're searching for. Stephen's steady voice and instructions do help, and as Thancred sinks deeper into the rhythmic in and out of his breathing, he feels himself tethering to something as well. Or, it might be more accurate to say that he becomes aware of that connection for the first time.
There is some great font of power out there in the great unknown, and yes, he is bound to it. He can feel it thrumming and pulsing.
When you're ready, take my hand.
It feels almost as if he's moving in slow motion as he lifts one hand from his knee and reaches out, blind yet sure, to let his fingers brush over Stephen's.
And then, here he is. Thancred finds himself surrounded by unknown buildings, with mountains carved out in the distance and a stranger addressing him. He himself wears a dark coat with a hood that for the moment casts some of his features in shadow. The coat, for all that it's meant to obscure, nonetheless has white trim, and left of his collarbone is a patch with the symbol for Strength etched into it.
Not knowing where he is or who's addressing him is disorienting, to say the least, and he immediately tenses and bends his knees, halfway to adopting a battle stance before he realizes that he should not show immediate aggression in a situation where he understands so little.
His fingers twitch, as if itching for something to grip onto, but he straightens and focuses instead on studying the man before him. He bears the symbol for Death, a comforting symbol despite its name. ]
Hello. [ He responds reflexively, nodding his head as he attempts to ground himself in this unknown locale. It's all rather picturesque, and the nipping breeze is somehow familiar, but he knows he does not recognize it. His complete lack of knowledge is something he finds distinctly uncomfortable, but he would rather not let onto that so immediately. ]
If I may ask... what is this place? [ His hands reach up to adjust his hood around his face, and then he realizes he is also wearing gauntlets. Dressed for travel... or for battle? ]
no subject
For all that, though, Thancred does settle in and focus after that, listening to Stephen's instructions and doing his very best to follow them. It is not in his nature to simply let all of the weight he's taken onto his shoulders fall away, and so it might take him longer than most to find that clear-minded, meditative state that they're searching for. Stephen's steady voice and instructions do help, and as Thancred sinks deeper into the rhythmic in and out of his breathing, he feels himself tethering to something as well. Or, it might be more accurate to say that he becomes aware of that connection for the first time.
There is some great font of power out there in the great unknown, and yes, he is bound to it. He can feel it thrumming and pulsing.
When you're ready, take my hand.
It feels almost as if he's moving in slow motion as he lifts one hand from his knee and reaches out, blind yet sure, to let his fingers brush over Stephen's.
And then, here he is. Thancred finds himself surrounded by unknown buildings, with mountains carved out in the distance and a stranger addressing him. He himself wears a dark coat with a hood that for the moment casts some of his features in shadow. The coat, for all that it's meant to obscure, nonetheless has white trim, and left of his collarbone is a patch with the symbol for Strength etched into it.
Not knowing where he is or who's addressing him is disorienting, to say the least, and he immediately tenses and bends his knees, halfway to adopting a battle stance before he realizes that he should not show immediate aggression in a situation where he understands so little.
His fingers twitch, as if itching for something to grip onto, but he straightens and focuses instead on studying the man before him. He bears the symbol for Death, a comforting symbol despite its name. ]
Hello. [ He responds reflexively, nodding his head as he attempts to ground himself in this unknown locale. It's all rather picturesque, and the nipping breeze is somehow familiar, but he knows he does not recognize it. His complete lack of knowledge is something he finds distinctly uncomfortable, but he would rather not let onto that so immediately. ]
If I may ask... what is this place? [ His hands reach up to adjust his hood around his face, and then he realizes he is also wearing gauntlets. Dressed for travel... or for battle? ]