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“Must you do this?”
“Do what?” Iyandrar asked, looking up from the traces in the mud he was examining. Dorian was standing on the trail, arms crossed.
“Run away from the path that all other civilised beings have been using for decades? Go for a wander in the bushes, when our goal is right there?” He pointed at a column of smoke poking from the hill in front of him.
“But…” Iyandrar protested with a small voice, “There might be something interesting in those shrubs!”
Dorian scoffed. “You don’t know that.” He carefully adjusted his posture so he looked even more offended than before. It was always a very amusing display for Iyandrar, though he’d never tell him. He did like not getting his eyebrows burnt off.
“No, and I’ll never know if I don’t take a look.” Iyandrar responded to Dorian’s glare with an amused smile. “Hey, I was raised in a forest.”
Dorian sighed. “Alright, I’ll accept it.”
Satisfied with his observations, Iyandrar made his way through the vegetation and back towards the path. Dorian looked him up and down with a critical eye, no doubt holding back more than one comment about the leaves that were now stuck on his clothes.
Iyandrar followed his gaze. He plucked one of them from his arm without too much conviction, and let it fall on the ground. He looked back up at Dorian with a barely held-back grin.
Dorian shook his head. “I can scarcely imagine that no one before me has been aggravated by your lack of focus.”
“Oh, my mamae did try to teach me not to wander.” Iyandrar shrugged. “She’d tell me, go forward, do not stray!” He smiled at the memory of his mother putting one knee to the ground to run her fingers through his hair.
“Did you listen to her?” Dorian asked in a tone that suggested he’d guessed the answer.
Iyandrar laughed. “Never!”