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Tue Feb 12, 2019 9:10 pm
Wed Feb 27, 2019 2:57 am
He could hear his mother bustling about outside, rummaging through her various possessions. She knew he was keeping something from her and he knew that she knew. He wanted to keep it just between them though, just for now.It was like a precious secret that he wanted to hide away from the world and only open it up when he was alone.
He, himself, was rummaging through his own stuff, gathering together posessions that he was going to drop off at the carpenter's shop. His time was divided up between Guinevere's place and here with his parents and over time was beginning to lean more towards the shop in the middle of the Fort.
He smiled as he heard the young boy addressing his mother, and her muffled reply.
Hey Pushok, just give me one more minute buddy. I'll be right out. Since Risa had moved in with Honrin, the space inside of his Wetu was much more cluttered.
He finished stacking up the last of his things upon the bed of furs and then turned to the young boy.
I was thinking we could work on basic stances today, how does that sound? Their two accents were not dissimilar, and an ousider would be forgiven for thinking they were one and the same but to Honrin the differences were easily distinguishable.
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Tue Jul 30, 2019 11:40 pm
Wed Aug 07, 2019 2:54 pm
The boy's infectious enthusiasm was encouraging, an eager student was an attentive one. Remembering his own newly shifted form helped, Honrin had shifted to help his sister out of a tree where she had gotten herself stuck. Then she had simply fallen onto him, he had made a good landing pad according to herself, his stubbed tail hadn't agreed.
Fortunately for them his mother, being the hoarder that she was, had a supply of weapons in their camp so they did not have to trek all the way to the Fort. He laughed at the antics of the young boy, and remembered his derpy son who exhibited just as much zeal but with a heavy temperance of self doubt and anxiety.
It was promising to see Pushok had some sense of restraint and did not simply snatch the weapons from his mother's store. Only when Honrin gave his permission did he tenderly pick up Jace's bow.
Atop the rack of weapons was the grand longbow that his mother had brought with her all the way from her birthplace, the bow had been snapped in half during the war in Anathema and although it was glued back together the bow was thus unusable ever again. It made him sad to see.
But Pushok was already moving on, not really interested with the full strength bow that would be impossible for him to draw. For the bow, they would start with something less weighty.
Remember, handle carefully, these are dangerous weapons. He reminded the boy gently. It was easy to become lost in the veil of excitement and forget caution.
Pushok eventually caught sight of Honrin's own long-sword, mostly unused in combat but still kept sharp and deadly and his skills honed and taut. The heavy sword was handed to the boy, again with a repetition to be cautious, and he almost dropped to the ground beneath its weight.
Honrin chuckled, taking it back from the youngster before he could hurt himself. Apparently this one was the one. There would be need for the development of muscles before Pushok was capable of handling something so heavy.
For himself, the sword was a burden in his hand that he was used to, and in the day before her crippling injury Honrin had often sparred at swords with his mother, and more often than not came out on the worse end, she was a ferocious woman.
Being challenged by a skinny, stick of a boy was amusing on several levels -- in another vein he could see himself at the same age stood before his strict hard-faced mother, anxiety and excitement clashing together in his guts.
Now, he found himself parroting the same things he could remember to the young boy before him. Of the readiness of footwork, and the need for lightness. A still combatant was a dead combatant. He hoped Pushok would take his words and run with them.
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