Those Who Beat The Flames (IC) (Closed)

"Really? It isn't?" Shena said. "You're the only person that's ever said that to me. Everything I say that can be offensive is probably a joke. I'm too much of a public servant to be rude. I thought you knew."

She watched him as he pulled out the coin. It caught a glint of a nearby street lantern.

"Yes, copper is a lovely colour," Shena replied. Then she chuckled and shook her head, "Are you going to compare it to my eyes now? Or maybe the colour of my hair when it catches the sun?"
 
"No..." Seth mumbled, staring at the coin for a moment. "Have you ever seen a mix of copper and red? It's a beautiful colour. I could show you if you'd-ch!" he flinched, almost loosing his balance. Blinking a moment, his smile became genuine as he turned to look at his assailant. The blonde girl standing behind him held a large rock, which of course, was just used to hit him over the head. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, only receiving a nod in return. "Awe c'mon, you could at least talk! Fine, don't. Anyway, Alli, this is Shena. Shena, Alli," he introduced them, using weird hand movements, one of which came close to hitting Alda.
 
Seth's tone was suddenly laced with a darkness she'd never heard from him before. It was as if some switch had happened, and suddenly, she was talking to a cloaked stranger instead of a stupid, playful, flirt. Her position made it impossible for her to back away, but she had felt her hands tighten on her fruit basket.

Relief came just as suddenly. Switch off.

"Ah, Alli. Nice to meet you," Shena said to the new arrival. Normally, she'd hold out a hand in greeting, but this Alli wasn't saying a word. Just glaring at her.

"Well, perhaps I'd better go," she said. "I've gotta be somewhere, and you've got another girl to entertain you."

With that, she twirled away from the crates, turned back to give him a friendly wave, then trailed away, down the road.

As strange as that experience was, it was brief; barely a passing thought.

There were more pressing matters at hand, like Lisette, and dear Baltemont. Her friends needed her, and she'd given herself the luxury of getting distracted, so now she hurried.
 
Seth frowned. "Well, if you must go- Hold on! Ew, that's just gross. Ew, ew, ew, ew, with her? Ew!" he cried, shivering as if the thought was about to make him vomit. He sighed, then, and watched her leave. "You know what, I think you scared her away."

"I really don't care," Alda replied, pushing the blonde hair back over her shoulder. Her voice was like that of a child's, one that did not match the body of the young adult she was currently being.

"Fine, fine. But was that hit really necessary?" Seth whined, rubbing the back of his head.

'You were about to kill her,' Nazar signed before adjusting the mask on his face. Seth huffed, giving up on trying to argue against the obvious.

"I guess," he muttered, "C'mon, we need to go already."
 
Yet another ale was presented and yet Xenia couldn’t bring herself to touch the drink as she tried to ignored her rising annoyance. Tessa may have been a friend, a good one at that, but she could never school her frustration at the comments made about her life. It wasn’t her fault that she was as she was, far from it. But her private stories were not ones to be shared, especially not in such a crowded area.

The perky waitress took note of the growing darkness in her companion’s expression and her attempts at conversation grew weaker and weaker until they stopped all together. It wasn’t long before Xenia rose from her seat and before Tessa could even get up, the young criminal spoke.

“Don’t.” she murmured, the stillness in her cool voice made her tone sound harsher than intended. “I won’t be staying in a room for the night.”

Tessa opened her mouth to respond, perhaps to even argue, but knew that all it would garner was a fight. She nodded, unable to mask the sigh that slipped past her painted lips. As she stretched her hand out to grab the untouched ale her friend left behind, the sound of footsteps began to fade and by the time the glass touched her, her friend was long gone.

Xenia slithered back to La’Belle’s, using the chaos of the rushing ladies preparing for the night to her advantage as she retrieved her clothing, pleased to find that Jessabelle had been good to her. Clothes clean, pressed and packed into an old satchel bag. The sight brought the faintest of smiles to her lips as she slipped the gown off of herself in exchange for her most comfortable tunic, pants and hunting boots.

Time like these reminded her of when Jessabelle would insist that she was a little boy and not a young woman. Again, her lips twitched upward as she packed her new daggers and pins away into her bag then slipped into the night, following the shadows alongside the road to keep attention as low as possible. Perhaps it would be one of her famous sleepless night. The ones that made her run back to town to sleep a day away to recharge.

"Well it surely won't be the Thistle that i'll be visiting tomorrow."

In a second, her mood soured again and her head hung lower than usual as she traversed the streets.
 
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When Shena got to Lisette's door, she was surprised to find it locked. They walked into each other's houses all the time. If was locked it meant they weren't home. She looked at the doorknob in bewilderment for a moment, then knocked.

Aeris was the one that opened it. "Oh, Shena, come on in," he murmured, ushering her in with a hand gesture. "We decided earlier that we should keep our doors locked at all times, and curtains drawn," he said. "We've also talked to one of the guards about carrying weapons. He said it's a good idea."

"That's good," Shena said. She had entered the room now. There were only four people in total. Lisette, with her eyes closed and her cheeks puffy, was leaning against Dalton on the straw couch. A few of Baltemont's things were on the table in front of them.

"Others had to go home to their own families," Dalton said.

Shena nodded in understanding.

"Lisette?" she said, placing the fruit basket on the low table and sitting down on the other side of her. "How are you holding up?"

The woman just let out a sad sigh, then lifted herself from Dalton's shoulder to plop herself against Shena. "Thanks for coming," she said. "I'm just stunned now. What do I do with this?" she said, stroking the bulge on her stomach. "How do I raise him alone?"

"You won't be alone," Dalton said. "We'll be here."

Aerin nodded in agreement; always the quiet source of comfort.

"Your child will have four parents," Shena said, putting an arm around Lisette and squeezing her gently in a hug. "All four of us."

Lisette smiled, then suddenly, she lifted herself upright and picked something off the table. It was a long, wooden, case. "Shena," she said, "You play, right?"

Shena didn't need to open the case to know what was inside. "I'm rusty," she said, "Really rusty."

"For me?" Lisette said. "Just a simple classic. Please?"

"I'd butcher the sounds," Shena said. Even so, she opened the box to look at the instrument.

It was a flute, made of a thin, reed-like wood. Her own, sitting unused somewhere, was an opulent thing made of nickel, ivory, and gold. It was her father's most extravagant gift, and not something she enjoyed showing off, but she once had loved to weave delicate melodies with it. She used to play it in the back rooms of her mother's brothel, sometimes if just to shut out the uglier sounds that emanated from the thin walls.

"Come on, it's muscle memory, right?" Dalton said, encouraging her with a wide smile. He always did his best to harbour cheer. "How long ago was it anyway?"

"At least three years," Shena told him.

Lisette looked at her, then leaned against her again, pressing her cheek against her shoulder. "Baltemont used to play for me," Lisette said. "You remember, don't you Shena? Dalton, you weren't there, but he used to play outside my parent's house every night for me. Wooed them faster than he wooed me, actually. It was my parents that insisted I give him a chance."

"I remember," Shena said. "I also just now remembered who taught me the art of using guilt as a tool."

Lisette grinned at her playfully, but Shena could still see her eyes glistening.

Reluctantly, Shena put the instrument to her lips.

She played as slowly as possible to make it easier for herself. The sound that came out, and the feeling of her fingers against the holes, felt immediately different. The gentle hum was quieter and softer than her own instrument, and she had to press harder to hold in the air. She did alright at first, but as the song's notes began to climb higher, the sounds began to sound uncertain and shaky, and when they began to squeak in complaint of her neglected skill, she stopped.

"I told you," Shena said, "I completely butchered that."

Dalton chuckled sheepishly. Even Aeris couldn't hold back an embarrassed smile. "Wow you're right," Lisette said, "You really did." Despite themselves, they all burst into a subdued laughter. "Practice," Lisette said, putting a hand on Shena's arm, and sliding the case towards her. "Take it and practice. You said that my child would grow up with four parents. Be the one that plays them lullabies at the bedside."

In other circumstances, Shena would have found a way to decline, but now, she couldn't. Not when Lisette needed every bit of comfort anyone could give her. "Alright," she said, putting her hand over Lisette's, "I'll try."
 
It wasn’t unusual for Xenia to feel the scalding stare of the guards that watched the outskirts of the city and it’s gates, but tonight there was something different on top of their unusual boost in numbers. Their stares weren’t ones of simple disapproval of such unladylike behavior, nor were they ones of anger at the boldness of her actions. They were of suspicion, wary with a cautiousness that made her think that whatever she had seen back at the Thistle had been very serious.

Xenia nodded her head in the direction of the nearest guard, receiving a nod back as her clean boots became stained with the dirt of the unpaved road. A burst of wind that tussled her hair lifted her spirits as she approached her comfort zone, stopping before she delved too deep. After the events with the wood elf, she decided to not try his patience and sink into the same dark and tangled regions of the forest. In the midst of thinking back, she remembered her encounter with the young woman from before. Xenia struggled with putting a name with a face, even if their encounter had made an impression on her.

“She said she wandered the western end.” the girl whispered to herself, tasting the phrase for the usual sourness that would come with thinking of what was destroyed more thoroughly in the frightening flames. “The west.”

Her head cocked in that direction, eyes squinting as if she focused hard enough she could see all that the girl had seen during her time of traveling. It couldn’t hurt, she assured herself. But it was a lie. It could and a lot, but she rolled her shoulder blades back and moved her, suddenly heavy as lead, legs off the beaten path that headed northeast. Tonight, Xenia chose to face her demons.
 
When she returned home, she placed Baltemont's flute case gently on the plain table amidst her forest collection and opened it. Lightly, she brushed her fingers against the sharp edges where the smooth wood cut sharply away into circular holes.

She looked at it; stared at it... Then left the room, heading downstairs to change into more comfortable clothing. She also made herself a cup of hot barley tea, sipping it slowly downstairs at the table by the little wood stove. Then she buttered and toasted a small heel of bread. And another half a cup of tea to clear her mouth of the dry crumbs.

An hour later, she was standing at the table again, this time with a book of sheet music in front of her and the instrument in her hands. Again, the thing squeaked and wavered in her hands. She put it down, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. Dalton had been right. It was muscle memory, but it wasn't this flute her muscles remembered. She raised her gaze to the back corner of her collection, at the shelf that held her rocks. It wasn't the rocks she looked at. There was a drawer at the bottom of that shelf. A locked drawer tucked behind a fat pot with a bushy plant in it.

She stared at it for a good five minutes, before she fished out her keys and set to labouriously shoving the pot aside. Her stubborn rejection of her father's wealth could go to hell. She'd learn how to play a goddamned flute for Lis.
 
A brisk pace, a brisk pace is what she desperately needed to keep if she intended to see any land forgotten by her long ago any time soon. But with every few steps, a new reason to stop and pause came up. She was hungry. She had a rock in her shoe. She kept tripping. She was thirsty. She could swear something around her was watching her. Xenia again paused as an itchiness in her throat threw her into a nervous coughing fit, one that didn’t help the extreme sense of paranoia that she felt piercing her to the core.

At this rate, she thought in frustration, i’ll see something new by dawn.

Once her throat has calmed and she did a quick scan of her surroundings to assure that she hadn’t called attention to herself she shook her head violently. Hoping to clear her brain of all such excuses, she continued until she was dizzy and had to lean up against a tree, feeling a dull ache in her left temple begin.

“Xenia, what the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed out loud, knowing that chastisement would be the only way to move forward. “Nosiris is dead. You hear me? Dead. Get over it.”

With a new resolve in her hazel eyes, she ground her teeth together and pressed forward to uncharted territory. The trees began to thin out slowly and the grass beneath her feet also became sparse. She swallowed hard and pressed on, but her gaze began to drop lower and lower until her eyes stared straight at the ground.

Coward. She could practically hear it being screamed in her head, but she paid it no mind until she could hear the faintest sound of water. Rushing water. Her head shot up, eyes shut as she tried desperately to hone in on that familiar sound and once she had it she dashed off. With eyes bleary from the sting of wind, Xenia found comfort in her lack of vision.

Had it been too soon? That was a stupid question. Yes, of course it had been. But in the direction she ran, the land did not give way to signs of healing, but to the normality of the thick forest she knew so well. Xenia knew she had to be running back towards the path to town, there was no other options and then the sounds of water gave way to the sight of it. And she froze.
 
In the King's Capital, people had learned how to keep their belongings safe. It wasn't unusual for houses to have hidden drawers, hidden pockets, and in some of the dirt houses, even wooden crates buried deep into the floors.

The flute was easily Shena's most expensive item, so she kept the drawer that hid it out of sight. After she'd pushed aside the pot, she had to slide away a thin panel that made the bottom of the shelf look smooth and solid. Then, she had to struggle through three locks.

And when she finally opened the drawer, she drew out a long parcel, wrapped in inconspicuous grey wool. She set this on the table beside Baltemont's crude wooden case, took a deep breath, and peeled back the plain cloth. A box of dark ebony melted into existence, and that was only the first layer. Lifting the ebony lid was like unleashing a trapped angel. Sitting on soft, purple velvet was her flute, all gold and silver and ivory, glowing like the rarest of heaven's treasures.

Maybe it was because she was older, but her guilt melted away into a gentle appreciation for the craftsmanship of the delicate instrument. The body of the flute, all glistening nickel, was covered in swirls of expertly placed gold leaf, as if the instrument had been dipped into marbled water like a sheet of parchment. The keyholes weren't crude holes, either. On the borders of each was a rounded loop of ivory, made to snugly hold soft fingertips.

She just held it for a while, marvelling. And then she blew a single note.

Baltemont's flute could sing like a crooning wolf, but hers sang like honeyed bells.

She'd forgotten how much she'd loved it. Now, the childlike glee returned to her, followed by a rush of regret. If Baltemont had had a chance to touch this. If she'd only shown it to him...

Shena put down the flute, turned away from it, and let herself cry.


Baltemont's golden fingers could have woven godly melodies with it.
 
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Nazar was the first to leave, eager to get back to the forest where he didn't need to hide himself. It was more of a bother than embarrassment, but he never dared to let the lower half of his face show. Never. Not after the last time that had almost got himself killed and to top it off, it seemed that Alda had set the city on edge. When the group of three neared the city gates, they decided to take a more discreet rout. The city had the main gates, of course, but then there were the secrets exits and sewer ways.

Seth took the lead towards the nearest exit, grinning widely at what was to come and beginning to skip a little, pulling ahead of the other two. A year. It had been a whole year since they had been home together and he was happy to leave the city for a while. He loved the city, of course, but home was home. "Almost home, almost home," he began to sing, only to be hit over the head once more by the girl trailing behind him. Huffing, he began to hum instead, "Hmm, hm, hmmmm, hmm, hm, hmmmm."

Once they had reached a small exit, Alda stepped forwards, changing her form slightly so that she was a little stronger and with the help of the others, they managed to push the metal grate aside. She watched the other two enter before stepping into the small tunnel, the grate rolling back behind her. Seth clicked his fingers, yellow light crackling from his fingers to dance around the ceiling of the tunnel. "And we have light!" the older boy cried.

"Will you shut up already?" Alda snapped, making him jump.

"Wow, someone is grum-py!" he sang, skipping ahead of them again. Nazar signed a hurried apology before hurrying after his brother, their steps echoing back to her. Sighing, she looked up, watching as the lightening crackled and then disappear as the boys got further and further ahead. In the dim light, there seemed to be scratch marks. The tunnel wasn't used very often, but perhaps a wild animal had found it's way into the tunnel and got themselves stuck. Her heart sank. If only she could see such beauty. Ever since the blaze, there wasn't very many animals left in the forest.

"Ooooi! Alliii!" Wait, how long had she zoned out for? They sounded as if they had reached the end of the tunnel. Alda huffed, moving her lead like legs towards the sound of Seth's voice, hoping that they would move fast enough sot hat they didn't leave without her.​
 
Two mornings later, when Shena awoke, she was mildly surprised to be staring at an unfamiliar ceiling with someone curled up against her. Memory rushed back to her quickly, though.

"I couldn't sleep at all last night," Lisette had admitted yesterday afternoon, to Shena and Dalton. "I feel like I'll never be able to sleep alone again." So then their old sleepovers had returned, with an added Dalton. It was like they were children again, but more cramped. There was no way in hell that Aeris' wife would allow him to join them, so it was Shena against the wall, Dalton on the edge, and Lisette comfortably inbetween them.

It had been the funniest thing last night, when they had all crammed under the covers together. She almost felt sorry for poor Dalton every time Lisette playfully slapped him when his hands accidentally wandered into places where they shouldn't have. Somehow, the man always managed to laugh it off with them.

He was already gone though. Dalton's day started before the sun rose. How he managed to get up without the light of the sun baffled her. Either that or he had snuck out after they had fallen asleep in favour of his own bed. Shena was amused by the thought.

Lisette, next to her, had latched onto her arm and was presently drooling all over it. Shena just lay there for a while, unwilling to wake her. Her poor friend probably needed the rest, and the escape. Asleep, she was at peace, and she didn't have to feel Baltemont's absence. Shena sighed, and leaned her head gently against Lisette's for a good half-hour before finally getting up.

By some miracle, she managed to avoid waking the pregnant sloth while untangling herself. She washed up at the basin, and was pleasantly surprised to find a pot of fruity oatmeal sitting covered on a rack over the faded embers in her fireplace. It was still warm. Dalton must have stayed all night after all.

She smiled at the gesture, emptied the pot into two bowls, then went to Lisette and playfully flicked half a spoonful of it onto her cheek. "Get up, lazy," she said. The snoring pile of blankets let out a load groan in protest. "Come on," Shena laughed, "Dalton made us breakfast, and it's going to get cold."
 
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Rolling her shoulder back, Xenia peered out the small window of the simple inn hidden in the lower district as the sun’s light became impossible to ignore. The sheets that rubbed against her legs were rough to the touch, not that she should be complaining. It was a miracle that they were stain-free considering the hobble she decided to inhabit. A single night’s stay didn’t hurt her wallet all too much and if the price would keep her from facing Tessa while her emotions were rampant, she would pay anything.

She shivered as her bare feet touched wooden floors, scanning the room for any abnormalities. Without wasting another moment, she gathered her bag, weapons and slipped her boots back on, enjoying the feeling of familiarity that washed over her. It was time to find a job; she wouldn’t spend another afternoon like a miserable thief in an expensive, but borrowed, dress.

Xenia hummed a familiar tune as she waved a disinterested good-bye to the old man who had attended to her when she arrived in the wee hours of the morning. The gesture was returned with the same enthusiasm, or lack therefore of, and the young assassin was on her way. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, the Thistle was her best chance at hooking in a usual customer and she was positive that something new had gone astray during her absence.

--

Tessa hadn’t had the best night’s sleep. It was uncomfortable to know that she had let her rarely-angered friend walk away in such a foul mood. The girl couldn’t help but fear the consequences of someone crossing her in such a state, but considering she wasn’t awakened by the tap-tap-tapping of a young killer on her window, she assumed Xenia hadn’t taken her anger out on anyone else. It would be an awkward, lonely day, she was sure of that.

In the time she knew the criminal, Tessa found out that Xenia would sooner vanish from her life than show a droplet of grievance. It would be days before her friend returned and that thought in its self made her nervous. The guards had been restless lately, popping their heads into the inn more than usual and with great reason after the attack, but it seemed too strange.

Attacks had happened before, many times, and there had never been such surveillance. Something was amiss… or perhaps there was something she didn’t know.

Tessa polished glass after glass behind the bar of the inn and let the idea simmer. Soon enough, the corner of her lips twitched upward.

Something she didn’t know… yet.
 
Shena hurried to the office. She had everything she needed, but between being farther and making sure Lisette would be alright, she was later than usual.

Something was strange when she walked in. It was quieter. Emptier. Then again, there were rarely more than ten people there at once. Their work was outside on the streets, and many had likely left already. She supposed Baltemont's shadow still lingered. He hadn't been one of them, but Lisette was. The office didn't have to know who her husband was to lament that fact that she had lost him.

The head courier, Ardon Riszt, had made an appearence, too. That was always an occasion. He had his work responding to complaints and taking care of special packages, and sometimes he would take a route when someone was absent, but he did much of that work outside of the office.

"Sir Riszt," she said, nodding to him. He was sitting at a table, staring at a few forms in front of him.

"Shena, you're a loyalist, right?" he said. She could tell immediately, from his voice, that something wasn't right. Sir Riszt was a jovial old man, especially since last winter, when his daughter had given birth to two little twins.

"Yes, sir," she told him. "What's wrong?"

"Sit," he said.

When she did, he sat back and breathed a long, heavy, sigh. "There have been guards," he began, "and Baltemont, he was a taxer. It's just come to my attention that, two days before Baltemont was found, a labourer that was cleaning the alleyways was killed as well. Last night, a courier in one of the northwest districts didn't make it back to the office. They're still looking for him. Laurence and Keyri resigned when they heard."

"Laurence has been here for years..."

"I know. Keyri I accepted, Laurence baffled me. But it's not right for me to stop them." Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, and glared Shena in the eyes. His manner was uncharacteristically serious. "And it won't be right for me to stop you, should you wish to do the same."

"No," Shena said immediately. She felt a few eyes fall on her. That must have been louder than she had intended. "I intend on staying, sir," she added in a softer voice.

He leaned back, gaze softer. "I think I understand, but can I ask why anyway?" he said, a smile peeking out from the sides of his lips.

"Because there is no other place I'd rather be," she replied. He was right, he did understand. She knew he did. It wasn't the musty office of paper that she cared for. It was the city; the country. The hope. She wanted to be part of it, in the service of the King, and Sir Riszt had known her long enough understand.

"I'm glad for your youthful determination," he said. "If you had left, I would have been lost." Suddenly, he smiled, and the sparkle in his eyes returned, and he once again became the jovial man she knew. "But this is not about me," he said. "The district meeting is in two days, the first of every month, as always. I can't believe it's August already. In any case, your duties start today. Figure out how to get Keyri's and Laurence's duties completed. All new reports, special requests, and complaints go to you. I will finish off whatever is already mine."

"Pardon, sir? Are you--"

"Yes, Shena. I'm gone," Sir Riszt said. He had stood up, and then his words became an announcement to the tardiest of the couriers. "I have grandchildren to spend my days with, and enough money not to need to put my life on the line for it. Laurence has fled, Lisette is in mourning, and none of you have been here as long as those three except her." He made a flourish of removing his short cloak, coloured a little differently than the standard uniform, and presenting it to Shena with a playfully dramatic bow. "My position is yours."

A round of applause, enthusiastic but sparse, pattered across the room, but Shena didn't need a roaring crowd to justify her joy.

"And with it," he continued, sitting down and speaking only to her again," comes a spot at the district council." He removed the district pin from his shirt, took her hand, and pressed it against her palm. Her expression matched his now. "As tradition dictates," he continued, "I will be your mentor there for as long as you need me. Congratulations."

"Sir, I- Thank you. Thank you, sir."

He just laughed. "Who else could it have been, my dear? Now, you are already acquainted the Madam Celeste Ferro, the district head, are you not? Your home is quite close to the Ferro House."

"Barely. I'm a little bit acquainted with her father, though."

"The General? Friends in high places! Very good! The meeting is in the early evening, at her family home. I will pick you up here. Dress well, but not too decoratively. Don't bother with lunch or dinner. Madam Ferro likes to allow the chef to flaunt his skill."

He stood up again, and reached for his coat. "You already know how this old office is run," he said, as he tossed it over his shoulders. "I am going to go over to that big white house, give her my official resignation, get a drink at the Thistle, and then I will be at my daughter's home, running around in the yard like a madman with her children. Good day, Shena." He put on his hat, tipped it to her with a wink, and headed for the door. "I'd wish you luck, but I don't think you'll need it."
 
Click. "I began by looking around the room." Click. "Nothing could be seen but darkness." Click. "And so I lit up the darkness like I always do." Click. "And I saw... Giant red eyes!" Seth cheered, jumping into the air with a raised fist. the boy was met by silence and he frowned, finally looking at his audience. It seemed his brother wasn't listening and the old man was fast asleep, snoring away happily. "Seriously? No one was listening?"

'I'm sorry. What were you going on about?' Nazar signed, obviously confused. As the breeze picked up slightly, the cards in front of the boy start flying, causing him to scramble after them.

Seth chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, never mind," he sighed, exiting the cave and walking out onto the cliff edge. Turning to his left, he began walking down the edge of the cliff. The path had been cut into the stone years before the town had been built and a points, the path was overgrown. Seth cursed loudly, brushing away the bindies and pushing through the bushes. "This is so stu-ah!" he had slipped his foot into a small hole. "Oh come on!" he screamed, sending birds flying into the air. The boy tried over and over to pull his leg out of the hole, but still it wouldn't budge. Pausing for a moment, he smiled, reaching down and digging around the edge. Finally, he freed his foot, grinning like an idea.

"Took your time," Alda murmured, tilting her head to the side and letting her hair fall to the ground. Seth blinked, looking up at her.

"You saw me in trouble and didn't bother to help?" He asked, pretending to be offended. Alda giggled, looking away and staring at small family of wild cats. She sighed softly, bringing her knees to he chest and smiling. "Something wrong?"

"Hmm?" Alda blinked, looking back to Seth as he moved a bit closer to her. The blonde shook her head, smiling and pointing to the family. "It's nice, isn't it. You don't have to be blood related to be considered a family."

Seth nodded, pulling himself onto Alda's rock and sitting with her. "Indeed it is. Though, I'm a little jealous, to be honest."

"Jealous because they are related by blood?" Alda asked. "Same here."

"You know. You could always get a pet," Seth murmured, "That way you don't have to keep bringing wild animals home."

Alda laughed, dropping a leg off of the edge of the rock. "I s'pose, but then, I'd still bring them home. I mean, look how cute they are!"

Seth rolled his eyes, jumping off and pulling his friend down. "Lets go. I'm sure Pops would be awake soon."