And not many days after the younger son gathered all togethe

[AW; Prompt #2]

POSTED: Sat Feb 11, 2017 7:33 pm

316 Words; Prompt: Some duties have been neglected in the recent chaos. Repairs need made, weapons need cleaned, and medicine stocks need replenished. Help a clanmate with one of these tasks!
Prodigal de le Poer
carry on my wayward son

Those that had seen Silence's antics would never think them to have any sort of skills at all. None would think that they knew how to do anything other than causing trouble and mischief. While that was true for the most part there were a few things that they knew how to do. The sharpening of blades was one of these such things. They had a whetstone, as they had to keep their own blade sharp, and had it out. Silence had collected all of the bladed weapons from storage and was seated upon the ground with their whetstone and had set themselves to work on sharpening the metals edges.

The knives were the first to be worked on, as this was what they were most used to working with. Still, all metal edges would require the same sort of treatment, just some blades were bigger than others. Of course the bigger they were then the more time that they would take to make sharp again. And even though they were alone this didn't stop Silence from keeping up their incessant babbling. They weren't as loud as they usually were, for they had no one to speak with, but the whispered words were still posed and answered.

"What do you think you are doing?" Prodigal asked when he came upon his sibling with all of the bladed weapons in a pile next to them. Silence didn't bother to look up when they responded to their brother. "Working." Which went to show how serious they were at their task for they didn't elaborate on the subject. "More like messing things up. You are just trying to get in trouble again." Prodigal leaned his head down to sniff at a stained axe. Despite regaining the use of his shoulder he still remained in Lupus form and hobbled around as if afraid the pain would return at any moment.

POSTED: Sun Feb 12, 2017 12:08 pm

When Dove needed to escape her terror during the struggle with the Boreas she’d taken to minding the sheep and horses or walking the borders, filling her head with observations and names and faces as she went to occupy the space anxieties wished to fill. Managing River Lark’s disappearance, she found, was not so easy: There was no escaping those anxieties, ever-scraping inside her skull like ragged nails into flesh. She was for the first time without company of family; it left her lonely and afraid, walking a treacherous path into adulthood blind and alone. And without his company, it was much too cold to sleep in the dugout near Ravenswrest they’d shaped together, knowing the elements would be tolerable if they stayed close.

Dove couldn’t distract herself from the despair. It characterized her every action, her every thought. Her drowsiness, her paranoia, her loneliness, her receding appetite. Without River Lark, she was falling apart.

But desperate for anything to do with her hands and person, Dove took a break from scouting the borders for him to wander the weapon stores, in which she happened upon a pair of coyotes minding the steel. One four-legged, one two. She heard them talking as she approached, but didn’t make out the words.

”Hi,” she said, and spoke in tones that read nothing less than exhausted. ”Dove. Do you need help in here? Tell me what to do.”

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POSTED: Mon Feb 13, 2017 8:27 pm

318 Words
Prodigal de le Poer
carry on my wayward son

"You really shouldn't have taken everything out. You have just made such a mess that anyone could hurt themselves on." Not that Prodigal truly cared if anyone got hurt. He was just using the excuse to end up making a point. Of course Silence knew the truth behind this and rolled their eyes at their brother's sudden concerned about what happened to the elusive they that he alluded to. "You just like to hear yourself complain, don't you?" Prodigal snorted and responded likewise. "Like you have room to talk. I've never seen anyone that enjoyed to hear their voice more than you do."

This bickering continued back and forth until the pair were approached by the female and spoken to. Each individual took their time in looking over the woman. Like usual, Silence was the first to speak up. "Sounds like sleep is what you need to do." they had seen Prodigal like this before. They could tell that their brother was tired but he refused to rest. Or more that it was that he couldn't rest. There had been nights when Prodigal's shoulder had bothered him too much to allow for any amount of rest. Perhaps it was the same with this woman was well. The thought had Silence's gaze drifting over the woman to take inventory of any injury that she might be suffering that would prevent sleep but they found nothing obvious.

"Silence will just get you in trouble if you join in." Prodigal said to dissuade the woman from getting involved with his sibling. "Shut up Penny, no she won't." Silence quickly retorted and held out a hand to beckon Dove closer. "Come here. I'll show you just what to do." Silence sought to try and enclose Dove's wrist within their beckoning hand in order to draw her over to have a seat between his bent legs which parted to make room for her.

POSTED: Tue Feb 14, 2017 10:15 pm

They told her she needed sleep, and though Dove bit back a number of sharp insults borne of drowsiness and the consequent lack of white, her eyes thinned and lips curled back into a silent snarl. Her shoulders were already at risk to break under the weight of stress, and she would not allow this pair of to be the cause for the inevitable snap.

The Reverie knew sibling bickering when she heard it, and grimaced in a somewhat uncomfortable silence until they reached out to her again. Unable to determine which of the pair were more tolerable, she stepped closer when encouraged. When her wrist was touched—likely without any bad intentions—Dove retracted in full as one would from a flame at their fingertips, a snarl escaping.

"Don't touch me," she barked, holding her hand as if it were wounded. She closed her eyes and took a visible breath to settle herself, then stepped past Silence and took a seat beside them with slight but obvious distance.

Embarrassed and hostile, she folded her arms. "Go on. I'm watching."

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POSTED: Wed Feb 22, 2017 8:58 pm

304 Words
Prodigal de le Poer
carry on my wayward son

Silence drew back in alarm when the woman jerked away from them. It reminded them of how Prodigal pulled away from them when his shoulder had been injured. The action had Silence looking harder at the woman. Perhaps she was injured after all. Maybe it just wasn't as noticeable as Prodigal's injury had been. "Hurt?" They asked, brow furrowing with concern at the way the woman clutched to her hand. "Penny had been hurt too but Fang fixed him up." Prodigal snorted. "Not that I asked for it. It was forced on me." "You needed it." Silence shot back before fixing his gaze back on Dove once more.

"How can I show you if I don't?" A frown crossed over their maw as they tried to think through the problem. "Can you touch me?" They supposed that the needed pressure could still be felt if the connection was reversed. But that hadn't been the way that Silence had been taught. Their hands had been on bottom and had been guided when they had learned and so that was the only way that they knew to teach someone else.

"Just shut up and show her from where she is." Prodigal cut in. Silence glared up at their sibling for a moment and muttered out. "Not as easy as it looks." Once more Silence looked to Dove and went to explain further. "Not enough pressure and you are just wasting your time because you aren't sharpening anything. Took much pressure and you wasted your time again because you just damaged the blade. You got to do it just right." And it was to show the correct amount of pressure that the copper coyote had even thought to grab the woman in the first place. There had been no other motive than being purely tutorial in nature.

POSTED: Wed Mar 01, 2017 8:03 pm

"I am not hurt," Dove had snapped back, but she hadn't said she was fine, either.

Dove glared, and ruthlessly so, at the one called Silence as they didn't get the point and argued it. Her nose wrinkled, her fists tightened, and in the moment Dove knew she was overreacting and did nothing to combat the swell. She had scarcely the energy to react at all, let alone mind her manners.

Silence's brother intervened, and though Dove glanced at him without a word, there was a cold gratitude in the unfurrowing of her brows and the settling of her wrinkled nose and lips.

Exhausted as she was, Dove understood. Silence had meant to give tutorial for the precise pressure required, but the Reverie would not allow herself in so vulnerable a position, especially near to weapon storage. The sheer thought of a bladed weapon in her hands—a tool of bloodshed, a thing that cast life and light into an unknown, dreaded darkness—made her sick to her stomach.

But Dove was naive and she knew it. If she were to survive, she needed to acquaint herself with such obscenities.

"Don't touch me," she repeated, slower, less hostile. "I'll practice on something broken or help out somewhere else if I have to, just—please—do not touch me."

She drew back, sighed, and after a moment's consideration: "I'm sorry. I want to help."

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POSTED: Thu Mar 02, 2017 12:02 pm

301 Words
Prodigal de le Poer
carry on my wayward son

Silence still didn't get why the woman didn't want to be touched if she wasn't hurt but just ended up shrugging it off. It that was what she wanted then they would abide by it but it wouldn't help her cause of trying to learn and help out though. "Fine fine, won't touch you." Silence conceded when the woman kept on going on about it. "I only got the one stone but here." The whetstone was nudged closer to the woman. "Try this one. You ain't going to hurt it none." A rusted knife was place on top of the whetstone rather than being handed directly to Dove. The blade was almost useless and so it wouldn't matter if it got messed up or not.

"Now all you have to do id just hold it at an angle." The knife that Silence had been working on was hold up at an angle to show what he was talking about. "You just push it forwards across the stone. Never backwards, only forwards. When you get to the end of the stone you have to pick up the knife and start at the beginning again. Got that?" The procedure sounded simpler than the actual practice was. Sharpening a knife was all about the angle of the blade and the pressure being applied. These were things best learned by doing.

"Why make her waste her time working on something that no one will be able to use?" Prodigal asked when he noticed the state of the weapon that Silence had given to her. "Cause it won't matter if she messes it up." The copper coyote answered his brother before focusing on Dove once more. "Don't worry, everyone messes up the first time. It's no big deal. Really." The attempt was made to reassure her.

POSTED: Sat Mar 04, 2017 12:28 pm

Dove took the offered whetstone and knife and turned them each in her hands while the placated Silence explained the technique in more detail. The instructions sounded easy enough, but her fingers trembled while holding the blade. She'd used a knife before, naturally—while sewing or cutting flowers. She'd watched Junipers practice with blades and admired their dance. But sharpening weapons for purpose of war and bloodshed? Knowing she was lying to herself, Dove took comfort in the rust on the blade and its little chance of utility beyond her practice. Maybe this knife would only be used for cutting rope. That sounded okay.

While the siblings began to argue again, Dove repeatedly traced the stone down the rusted blade using a variety of speeds and pressures and paused to inspect any at all difference on the blade between each swipe. If she made any progress it was slow and scarcely noticeable. Frustration began to snowball, pushed further by their bickering, and Dove paused her practice to glare at the siblings.

"You two don't appreciate each other for anything, do you? Is this how families work in the 'real world'?" Huffing, she held up the blade. "Look, the rock isn't doing anything."

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POSTED: Thu Mar 09, 2017 12:29 pm

310 Words
Prodigal de le Poer
carry on my wayward son

"What are you talking about? There is only one world." The commentary had ceased the bickering for the time being. "Of course I appreciate Prodigal. He is a great warrior. He saved Cru and the girls." The use of his chosen name cause Prodigal to raise a brow at Silence. His sibling always called him Penny to his great frustration so it was odd to hear Silence call him Prodigal instead.

"Now it is your turn to say something nice." Silence prompted when Prodigal remained silent. "Fuck off." The words lacked their usual aggressiveness. "That is as good as we are going to get." Silence said with a wink to Dove, not seeming to be bothered that Prodigal couldn't rouse up a single decent thing to say.

"You keep the stone on the ground and move the knife. It is easier to apply pressure that way." They dipped their finger into a cup of water at their side and then allowed the water to drip off onto the stone. "Try again. It takes a long time. You don't get it sharp in just a few strokes. You got to spend a lot of time on it. And then you have to do the other side too." While they spoke they smoothed the water droplets over the surface of the stone. "You don't got to do it. I can do it all myself." It would take days but Silence was willing to put in the time and effort. It was the one way that they would be able to contribute as they weren't the warrior that their brothers were. "Try to think of your favorite hymn. It will help to have something else to focus on. When you get done singing your hymn once then it will be time to flip the knife over and work on the other side next."

POSTED: Sat Mar 11, 2017 9:58 am

"Everything is different where I come from," she said, and followed it definitively, "it's a different world."

She didn't expect such a glimpse of sincerity from Silence about her brother, and neither had she expected this Prodigal—was that Penny's real name?—made out to be a hero. Dove didn't recognize the names of the victims he rescued, but she read into Prodigal's scars and carriage and wondered. She knew not to judge a book by its cover, as her father was both scar-riddled but benevolent, but she hadn't expected courage and fortitude out of someone with such an attitude.

He cursed as response and offered no kind words in exchange. Dove felt something ignite in her chest.

Though Silence shrugged it off and continued their lesson, Dove scarcely listened; her eyes flicked distracted between Silence at work and leering at Prodigal. She didn't follow along as she should have, and Silence offered to do it themselves. "No, I'll try it with the hymn and everything, just, just hold on."

The Reverie stood, putting herself between Silence and Prodigal and nearly nose-to-nose with the latter, glaring. She barked, "You're a jerk, you know that? I don't think you could save anybody, the way you talk. Every single thing you've said far has just been an insult. What's Silence done to you, huh?"

Adopt one of Dove's traumatized happy-flower-siblings: Mint, Gust, and River!
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