<font color="#FFB545"> She let out a soft breath, her eyes moving over the workmanship of the dagger. "It's beautiful..." She murmured softly, gently playing her fingers over the smooth side of the blade before she held it up closer, her eyes taking in the words that were engraved into the silver. "Whats it say?" She questioned, her southern accent tilted with curiousity. She was intrigued by the history that went along with this man, the deep set pride that was so obvious in every tone of his words, the way he carried himself...</font color> -- RD Future: Downtown

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Date Posted: Fri, Dec 23 2005, 6:29pm PST
Author: jailynn
Subject: She let out a soft breath, her eyes moving over the workmanship of the dagger. "It's beautiful..." She murmured softly, gently playing her fingers over the smooth side of the blade before she held it up closer, her eyes taking in the words that were engraved into the silver. "Whats it say?" She questioned, her southern accent tilted with curiousity. She was intrigued by the history that went along with this man, the deep set pride that was so obvious in every tone of his words, the way he carried himself...
In reply to: Jackson 's message, "" on Wed, Dec 21 2005, 7:07pm PST

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(He smiled as he watched her beautiful wide eyes, pride filling his own. The Skean Dhu was very very old, it had passed down through his family for generations, the eldest lad handing it to his lass for protection. He had decided that since he had gotten her into this mess, he would protect her at all costs, and a shieldmaidan's dagger would keep her safe.) 'tis an old gaelic prayer for protection, not easily translated. (He smiled a little, setting his other boot on the floor by the bed and leaning back again, looking at her as he crossed his ankles and then his hands over his stomach.) Angel's wings aught lead you home. (He shrugged a little.) (NT) -- Jackson, Fri, Dec 23 2005, 6:47pm PST