Took advantage of the PNPC Guardians. Trying to get used to this character and the situation he's in. / +7
Ephraim hummed a ditty to himself as he helped carry the sizable piece of spruce, the bark-stripped trunk balanced over his shoulder. It had been felled by some of the other wolves of the Tribe—prisoner, member, or Guardian, he did not know or care—and now he would set to work shaping a canoe. He’d been singled out from the other prisoners he’d shared the dark cabin after someone’d heard him babbling about fish, and eventually his skill at making canoes had been unearthed. He was glad to be out and about, however; another might think he hadn’t quite grasped the fact that he was below everyone else in AniWaya in Maska’s eyes.
And it was so sunny! The sky would grow dark for months at a time in some of the tundra he’d visited, but here everything was brilliant, bright—the sunlight drew out all the colors of the village. Even the sad heaps of huts destroyed by an apparent snowstorm were more vibrant, and the heat coaxed the distinct scent of the earth and wood out in the open. The eunuch broke out into a broad smile, his skin tingling from the warmth seeping through his dark brownish-grey coat.
“Quit simpering,” the Guardian behind him snapped.
Ephraim let out a content sigh. “You cannot see me simpering, friend,” he pointed out gleefully, “though I must confess I am—gah!”
A deft roll of the trunk made the weight thump against his head, and he was momentarily dizzied by the blow. He walked in silence until they’d found a nice place in the grass, a little ways off from one of the main paths. He went to his knee and dropped the spruce, glancing over his shoulder at the Guardian. They all remained nameless to him, not that he recognized this one anyway. He gave a shrug of broad shoulders then reached out with a white hand, grasping the axe that the Guardian unceremoniously shoved at him.
“I’m not sure how you make canoes here,” Ephraim drawled. “Had to be small in my clan, yes—streams not easy to navigate. But the fish! Oh, the fish was as bountiful as it was delectable.”
The Guardian pointed. “Work.”
The quarter-dog hybrid blinked a few times then grinned. “Oh, work—yes—you have to get in a rhythm, you know.” He winked and stood, holding the axe over his head in preparation to swing. He paused there, however, arms rather loose, and let his mouth form a small “o” as he looked to his current captor. “You don’t suppose you could spare me a morsel, eh? You need vittles for work, yes.” He made his brown eyes widen pathetically as a dark stare bored into him. “Oh, oh—my arms feel like jelly, pal, just like jelly. But I’ll try hard to make it work if you don’t have any food. I don’t know if there’s a deadline for this canoe thingy, but—”
An exasperated sigh. “All right. I’ll get you a snack. Wisteria is patrolling the village, though—you get any ideas about running, and she’ll shred you.” The Guardian cast one last look over his shoulder before walking off, apparently pleased to be rid of the prisoner’s presence for a while, despite his threats. Besides, with the other Guardians constantly skulking through the Village, there was no danger of the fool escaping.
Ephraim smiled innocently after him. “Oh, no, of course not. I’m not even in shape to run, eh?” He patted his ample stomach then glanced at the trunk, his giddy demeanor fading briefly as he started to swing the axe. As foolish as the eunuch acted, he was perceptive—knowing that he had to bide his time and figure out how AniWaya ran. He hadn’t gotten much information out of his fellow prisoners, as most had been too sullen to respond to his gab, but with time, he hoped to be approached by at least a normal Tribe member who knew what was going on.
For now, he played the part of the free labor, chopping away at the barkless trunk as he’d done years past. The rhythm came naturally, and the unused muscles ached sweetly with the exertion, bringing back memories of before he was cut. After a while, a little work melody whistled from his lips, and he was the cheery and naïve prisoner once more.
