Lahoo

His hair was as silver as the moon –hair that should have belonged to some old, haggard man with a crippled leg and a bad back– but his eyes made up for it by reflecting back a deep cobalt color that had women drooling after him. He was taller than most men, easily a head above any villager, and thinner than half the girls ten years his junior. More often than not, the words “feminine” and “beautiful” were associated with his passing, especially when he was breezing through yet another town on the endless road of wandering. He had heard the whispers in alleyways as he passed, had seen women swoon and stalk like bitches in heat.  

It was really quite irritating.

Lahoo was sick of it. He had been born with sharp, defining features and for that he was branded as a woman in more than one village, leading to brawls with men who realized too late that they had tried to rape a male.

He won, of course. Thin as he was, the silver-haired wanderer had muscle to spare beneath his cloaked frame. Men knew after his first pass through town to let him by without difficulty, lest they wanted to be hung by their genitals in the town square. Nevertheless, it was always a hassel whenever he turned from the roads and took to the cities.

Knowing all this, Lahoo sighed when he saw the town appearing in the distance. He had been walking all day, dusk coming quickly now. Even so, he was tempted to bypass the little village just to avoid the trouble he knew would arise. He stopped in the road, considering, before huffing to himself and continuing on. There would be no point in walking through the night just to avoid the usual.

Pulling his cloak closer around his frame, Lahoo headed towards the village with only the thought of food and a warm bed penetrating his mind. He would save the other concerns for later.

~ by eeratka on January 31, 2007.