Who wants to be SWAGTASTIC with me and Firefly
who is not here right now, but I’ll find her eventually?
Shar does!!! Shar does!!! CAN Shar be SWAGTASTIC TOO? Please?
You’re Shar? Hi, Shar! We can be SWAGTASTIC together! We just need to hunt down Firefly so we can be a SWAGTASTIC trio… do you have—what is SWAGTASTIC, anyway?
Shar returned, “Hi Mar. Whose firefly? Do I have what??? I don’t know isn’t swagtastic the same as fantast with extra swag.” XDDDD
ooc: Where did firefly go? I thought you had a jar for that. *teasing*
Restimar sat with his legs crossed, his chin atop is fist as he feigned intense concentration. “SWAGTASTIC is like fantastic? I thought it was a type of warrior from Spare Oom.”
-bats hands away and wrinkles nose- S-s-stop! Do you bother Caspian like this? I’m nawwt pokea-… Oh. Thank you -takes balm- -rubs on cut- Ah. Feels good. -furrows brow- And no, I don’t need healer. I am one. What kind of medic would I be if I can’t even stitch myself up? The cut has to just rest a while, it’ll clear. -sighs- Anyway, you just said Calormene is rich with healing herbs? I’ll have to order some. Or maybe even go there myself. Though tensions are high between Narnia and Calormene, do you still trade with them?
-stiffens but pats his hand- Restimar, Restimar please. Don’t feel bad for me or anything if that’s what you’re feeling. Let’s just stop talking about it. It was wrong of me to have brought it up. Really really forget about it. And even if you can’t or don’t want to forget, let’s not talk about it. -winces a little as he dries her face- You are always taking such good care of me. I don’t deserve it, but you do anyway. …Will you let me look after you too? It’d only be right.
-gasps a little- Not friendly to Ma? Why not?! Ma doesn’t deserve that. She’s perfect. -scratches cheek- N-no! No it isn’t bad at all. In fact, it’s commendable. It’s good to have a wide amount of knowledge. …Do you think -smiles- you can teach me, though? All I ever learned was how to use a sword, throwing knives, and a bo-staff. But I…actually don’t know why I suddenly got really shy all the sudden -laughs nervously- I’m sure it was nothing. Maybe what I ate for lunch was bad and it’s backing up on me. That’s what it felt like anyway. And stop it with the healer business, I can take care of myself.
Swords are for cutting pe-…well that’s a realistic way to remember. But no, I’m not singing to you don’t you dare ever ask me that again. And yes I like art very much -looks a little sad- Y-you didn’t notice the teacups I painted? I worked hard on those. -pats his shoulder- You’re doing fine keep it up. -moves back to the pig- Wait, wrong food what are you…-looks over- Oh. Oh it’s lettuce. It’s alright, I didn’t notice either. Cabbage or lettuce it works either way. Let’s see, you cut the whole head of lettuce didn’t you? That should be enough. -shuffles around kitchen- …Okay, the sauce is done. I’ll just throw the meat in like that and the vegetables in this bowl… Okay! Now I’ll let you combine the marinade with the filling BUT WASH YOUR HANDS FIRST. Just stir it all together with your palms. I’ll get the dough.
I don’t “bother” them. Of course not. Just because I put frogs in their bedrooms doesn’t mean I “bother” them. -stares at her- So a healer doesn’t need another healer to heal him or her? Wow! I didn’t know that. -nods- Calormen likes using herbs and things. DON’T go there. We still trade with them and we look peaceful, but it’s really dangerous travel to Calormen. You can go the market to buy the herbs instead.
Silly Firefly. It’s not wrong to talk about the past. I do it all the time. Oh! One time I set this one lord on fire. It was very, very funny. -ruffles hair- But, okay. We’ll stop talking about it because you said so. -nods repeatedly- Ma said to listen to you or else I’ll get stabbed… I still don’t know who’s going to stab me, though. -grins- Take care of you? Isn’t it the other way around? I mean, you weren’t the one who got bitten by a dog.
-tilts head- They’re not friendly to Ma because she married into this family so many sees her as an… insider—no! I mean, outsider. Yes, out— -smiles back- Sure! I’ll teach you. What do you want to learn first? Hand-stands? Oh, wait. That’s not a weapon… you get shy because you ate something bad? -pokes her stomach- Are you going to throw up?
-pouts- Fine. No singing. We’ll just paint inst—you painted TEACUPS? Where? Can I see? Can I use one? I promise not to nibble on it. -finishes cutting- I’m done! -runs to wash hands and runs back- “Stir it all together with your palms.” -nods and slams hands inside the bowl- Like this?
In the house of the Higgins, Ember used to be the last to wake up. Her father was always the first, waking really early, before even the sun rise, to hunt. Being Narnians in time when the Telmarines were ruling was not easy. They could not go to the market, or any other public place. Their food was always provided by her father, and they consisted of eggs, fruits, seeds,roots and meat of animals. His father always certified if it was not a talking animal before killing it, and only killed adult ones. The second to wake up used to be her mother. She used to clean the chase and prepare the breakfast. And finally Ember. She had always woke up with the smell of the breakfast.
Now, almost four years after the lost of her parents, Ember wakes up because of the breakfast as well, but not because of the smell, but the sound. Different from her father, Ember kill any kind of animals, from the babies to the talkatives. She simply kill what she can find. Most of the time are squirrel because they are abundant in the forest. The meat of the squirrels were not the best, if you could call it meat. They were so thin and small that they don’t even have much meat. Ember loved meat of bunnies, but they were so difficult to find now a days. Ember thought that perhaps they all were turning meal to the wolves that scour the forest at the night. The squirrels in the other hand, hide themselves in the trees and, because of this, they are save from the wolves. But not from the huntress.
This morning was not different from the others. The brunette was after a squirrel for her breakfast. The animal was not different from the many others she has hunted. Ember stayed quiet behind a bush, her blue eyes in the creature. Silent she prepared her bow with a arrow, her eyes still on the squirrel. She raised the bow and targeted the animal’s eye. The painless way to die. An arrow in the eye.
Living for so long in the woods, the huntress was able to hear like the animals. She heard some steps coming close and her heart frozen. She lowered her body on the bush to not be seen. Her eyes moved from the animal to the place she heard the steps, but she didn’t see who or what was making the noise. The eyes moved to squirrel once more and she noted that the animal heard the sound of steps as well.
The animal moved to the bush in front of the one Ember was, and that was when she heard the SQUIRREL! . The huntress got scared by the intensity of the voice and fell in some twigs behind her in the ground, cracking them all. She moved her gaze, frightened, to the bush in front again in time to see a man jumping from it. Her heart was accelerated and she could feel the beatings in her ears. Sadly, no sign of the squirrel.
After a time breathing hard, she decided to investigate the man in the clearing. He looked different. Perhaps was his eyes. Ember had never seen eyes like his. The grayish blue eyes studied the man quietly and she spotted that he had a sword. As silent as a shadow, she managed to get out of the bush and climb the nearest tree. When she was safe in one of the branches she decided to finally talk to him, “Who are you?” She asked, as loud as she could.
The squirrel was as good as gone. The information about his loss did register, even though it only lasted for a second before it was promptly heaved away. What filled in the gap and captured his mind was the rustle of leaves. Restimar, an impish grin already itching his lips, crouched low in hope that the squirrel wouldn’t escape him again. When he heard grass being crushed, the lord tilted his head to the side, his mind swirling with confusion. There was no scattering above the leaves. There was, instead, a dull and even sound. Then, nothing. Restimar scratched the tip of his nose. He leaned closer to the ground to attempt catching the elusive sound. It was deliberate. Wary. And much, much heavier than a squirrel. One image came to mind.
“Bear!” Restimar sprung out to where he estimated the bear would be. Airborne, a plan latched onto the lord, telling him, step by step, what to do once he encounters the bear. Bears were heavy and if it was a mother with a cub, it could be extremely deadly. The man glanced at a nearby tree, swiftly measuring its height, calculating if it was sturdy and high enough to fend off a bear. Climbing was good. Running would also suffice. The sword, like it was reminding the lord of its existence, flapped against his leg. Restimar inwardly shook his head—killing was not an option. When he landed, another idea fastened onto him: the bear could be a talking Bear. It was this simple and highly improbable possibility that ruled over the other more practical one. He surveyed the area for the bear he was brimming with excitement to meet.
“Who are you?”
The lord’s head shot up, tracing the vast tree trunk and up the graceful branches rich with the green of leaves. The leaves among the branches formed a canopy and inside was a slim creature looking down at him.
Ignoring the previous question altogether, Restimar remarked, “You’re an odd-looking bear.” He strode to the base of the tree and imbued with a giddy amusement in discovering a new creature, the lord squinted to get a better look. Dark eyes widened as they entered the light eyes of the creature, a human girl. A chortle choked him, but he still managed to cheerfully exclaim, “You’re not a bear!”
Now, this lord is not one who thinks things through, for in fact, he would rather act on his first instinct. And right now that was climbing a tree. For a reason that only Restimar can comprehend, he deemed it rude to climb an occupied tree and filled with good intentions, he ventured to the east in search for a tree that could carry his weight. The man only stopped when the perspiring kisses of the sun didn’t sting his neck anymore. Before him was the wide trunk of an oak tree. Filled with the delicious start of ebullience, he patted the trunk of the tree. An epiphany came right afterward and Restimar reacted instantaneously. Knees bent, feet flew from the ground and strong arms brought the man to the first branch. Using the same lissome movements, Restimar climbed to the same height as the girl on the tree a meter away and when he could finally discern that the girl’s eyes were indeed gray—just as he predicted—the full grown man swung his legs over the branch and he flashed a toothy grin.
“Hi! I’m Restimar. What’s your name?” Restimar patted his thighs as if his dirty hands could possibly clean his equally dirtied pants. Without looking up, he rambled on. “You know, this is a good day for bread. There’s a good bakery in Cair Paravel, but the old man is very, very mean. It’s weird to have good bread made by a bad—hey.” His gaze snapped back to the girl. “What are we doing on a tree?”