A random word prompt 'Wind' which elicited four simultaneous & highly disparate images (this happens to me - see my piece 'Riot' if interested).
21. Wind
.o0o.
1. Breath
Alistair sat with his head in his hands, swallowing against his queasiness and trying to ignore the sense that the ground was swaying ever so slightly. He could do this; Haven was only a short ways away. And if any bandits show up, I can always barf on them. Yeah, that'll work just fine.
The pebbles crunched under a light step, and Sabhya sat next to him.
"This ought to help. Chew it, but don't swallow it, please."
Alistair sniffed the bit of dried root in wan suspicion before complying and popping it into his mouth. "What is it?" Not too bad. Kind of like anise and celery root.
"The Rivaini coral divers use it to enhance their lung capacity. I believe the same principle should work for altitude sickness."
"This is just embarrassing. Of course, I'm the only one having problems." Sabhya touched his shoulder reassuringly.
"It's unpredictable, my friend. If it makes any difference, I'm fairly certain I saw Wynne giving herself a surreptitious rejuvenation."
"Huh. It kind of does, actually." He looked sidelong at his companion. "But you aren't having any issues?"
The little mage's eyes creased in humor.
"Alistair, my entire life tends to be an altitude issue."
.oOo.
2. Flatus
Paarrp.
"Oh, for . . . Oghren, can't you save that for some other time?" Alistair fanned the air. "Like when we're not sharing a watch?"
"You know, pike-twirler, for someone who complains about girly dog-names, you act like a mighty big girl yourself."
"What? I do not!"
"Do too."
"Do not!"
"Prove it." Oghren rested his fists on his hips and grinned up at the young man. "We're both men here. You had the same glop for dinner as the rest of us. Or are you just going to hold it in like some prissy lady until you explode?"
"I- fine!"
Silence.
"I'm waiting."
"Give me a minute!"
pfwee.
"Hah! Nice try, amateur!"
Prraarrrp!
The fire flared blue for a moment.
"Oh, yeah? Well, how about this-"
"What are you two arguing ab-?" Leliana had approached unnoticed with Zevran, and as Alistair began stammering incoherently she squeaked and clapped her hands over her nose. "Oh, Maker's Breath!"
"I sincerely hope not. If this is a sample of His breath," Zevran muttered, waving a hand, "it is no surprise He went into seclusion."
.oOo.
3. Gears
"Look! Look what I found in the Commons!" Alistair was grinning delightedly as he displayed his prize to Leliana and Zevran.
"A golem do- figurine?"
"This is different. Watch!" He twisted a button in the figure's back several revolutions, then set it on the floor.
tictictictic
The little feet worked up and down and the golem marched busily forward.
"Oh, how cute!"
"I admit, that is intriguing."
"Isn't it?" Alistair beamed. "Not magic, of course, since it's dwarf-made. It works on springs or something."
tictictictic
Blossom reared back at the toy's approach, then examined it suspiciously as it continued past.
"Ah, Alistair, you might want to-"
Snap!
"Hey!"
tictictictic
The little feet kicked helplessly from the corner of Blossom's mouth as the mabari happily avoided Alistair's grabs.
"Give that back! Come back here, you. Come on, drop it!"
Gulp.
"Aw . . . Blossom . . ."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Leliana patted the dejected young man's hand. "But, well, he did swallow it whole. Maybe you can, um, recover it?"
"Yeah. No thanks. Somehow, I don't think that would be quite the same." Alistair directed a scowl at Blossom and headed for the door. "I'll just go see if there's one left and get another."
After the door not-quite-slammed behind Alistair, the other two looked at the dog, who returned their gaze indifferently and scratched thoroughly under his collar.
"Do you think it's still walking?" Leliana spoke after a thoughtful silence.
"If so, it gives 'bowel movement' an entirely new meaning, yes?"
.oOo.
4. Flight
Clad in trousers alone, Sabhya stands as far out as possible on the prow of the Miravida, gripping the rigging one-handed and bare feet secure against the wood. The impossibly blue water mirrors the sky to lend a dizzy, exhilarating sense of rushing through the air itself. He turns his face into the breeze, savoring the spray and the chill and the motion, feeling his spirit lift and spin like the companionable dolphins that swoop effortlessly through stray clouds of foam.
Zevran stands behind and to one side, ready to catch his Warden should he slip and enjoying the view - both of the trim body and of the look of sheer, exultant joy. He can see how every fiber of Sabhya's being yearns upward and outward, and in this moment he feels compassion that the mage never learned Morrigan's shape shifting magic.
Although, if he is honest with himself, he feels a measure of relief as well.
.oOo.