Of Names and Pity
Word Count: 200
"Frankenstein is such an unwieldy name. We need to find you a pet name – an endearment of sorts," the Lord mused aloud, his temple creased with concentration. He rested his jaw on his left hand, a slender finger tapping against his white cheek as he tried to think of a fitting nickname.
"My name is Fran-ken-stein. I refuse to be called otherwise," the blond human snapped in a clipped tone, not appreciating this development at all.
"Do not get angry over such a small matter, Frankenstein. The Lord is merely ruffling your feathers. You should be able to understand the difference between a mocking insult and a light-hearted jest. Unless you have the mental capacity of a pea – in that case I pity you," Gejutel caustically remarked with a derisive tone.
"Feathers? Pea? My, my, Gejutel – you are a genius! Peacock – yes, that is the perfect nickname for him!" the Lord exclaimed with a satisfied grin, congratulating himself for coming up with the perfect pet name.
"A light-hearted jest was it, Gejutel? How would you like to be called a peafowl then?" Frankenstein pinned the white haired noble with a venomous glare for unwittingly assisting the Lord in his ridicule.
Of Mobs and Welcomes
Word Count: 100
"I believe it was unwise to visit the human world, Lord," Gejutel commented blandly.
"Nonsense, Gejutel. Look at how happy they are! They even assembled to welcome us!" the Lord exclaimed ecstatic.
Raizel merely perused the human crowd with seeming indifference while the Lord kept waving at the gathered humans with a radiant smile.
"Receive the judgment of the stake! Receive the judgment of the garlic!"an angry mob of humans yelled, surrounding the trio of nobles who had suddenly appeared in their midst.
I do not think this constitutes as a welcome assembly. Gejutel exhaled a long suffered sigh.
Of Memories and Stealth
Word Count: 100
"What is on your mind, Father?" Rajak asked with mild curiosity after one of their sparring sessions.
"Nothing of importance, son. I was merely reminiscing," Ragar replied with a faraway expression.
Not wishing to intrude upon his sire's private thoughts, Rajak abated his questioning.
"You are worthy to be the next Kertia clan leader, Rajak. You do not mock your opponent during a battle and you do not use underhanded tricks even though we specialize in stealth – unlike someone I used to know," Ragar continued with a rueful timbre. Rajak could swear the corners of his father's lips curved imperceptibly.