faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Boyd and YOU
WHAT: Open catch-all for Firstfall/November.
WHEN: Most of Firstfall
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: feel free to pm me if you want a closed starter or just feel free to give me whatever

- tavern -

In the days and weeks since his arrival at Skyhold, Boyd had made himself quite the frequent customer of the Herald's Rest. Spending most, if not all of his evenings in the tavern might have not been his intention at first, but after a few restless nights it seemed that that a drink or two was just what was needed to unwind enough for sleep. It hadn't been his intention to spend most if not all of his evenings in the tavern, but between restless nights and doing his best to avoid Raylan, a drink or two (or three) was just what was needed to unwind enough for sleep.

His visits are like clockwork, and he often is sitting at a table tucked into a corner, minding his own business.

- training -

The training grounds were a great way for Boyd to keep his mind off the resentment and hatred that was simmering just below the surface, trying to bury all the memories of his past in the deep recesses of his mind where they belonged. Although to anyone passing by, the sheer ferocity of his attacks to the combat dummy before him would signify anything but.

He wasn't rusty by anyone's standards, but that wasn't stopping him from doing the same attack repeatedly, trying to be that much more quicker on his feet so that in the event of battle, he could have the upper hand and subdue the opponents without a moment's hesitation.

(and on the off chance someone saw the few times he got a little cocky with the practice daggers and overshot the dummy? Then that was their little secret.)

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Raylan knew Boyd was avoiding him.

There was really no need for it. They knew each other. Had known each other. They were from the same place, there was no reason to pretend otherwise. So when he saw Boyd going at a dummy like it killed his momma, Raylan gave it a minute and then approached once he'd hit a lull.

"Wanna spar?" Raylan asked. He held up a plain wooden staff in one hand. "I gotta know how to hit someone with it, for when the magic don't work."

Boyd glanced back in Raylan's direction when his voice broke the reverie, narrowing his eyes at first before cracking a small smirk. What better was was there to work off the resentment than to spar with the source of said resentment?

"You best not hold back on me, now." He said, giving him a once over before chuckling a little. "'cause it'd be kinda embarrasin' if I still managed to kick your ass now like I did back then."

Raylan had been braced for rejection, so hearing Boyd accept (and be so himself about it in the meantime) made him smile. "We'll just see about that," he said, spinning the wooden staff in one hand as he stepped into a wooden sparring circle nearby. He'd been watching Boyd hit the dummy, so he knew those daggers were blunted. They could bruise him to shit, but Raylan wouldn't get cut, nor the staff get damaged.