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+---- Thread: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work (/showthread.php?tid=866)
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-23-2019
Jigano looked up at the shadow of a cat that fell over him, curious as to why Amalia had shifted position so soon after lying down. He did not expect her fierce promise, used to the gentle, even timid baker and Librarian he has come know and love. This was a new side to the girl, confident and reckless--
Only, it wasn't really so new, was it? He had seen flashes of this Amalia before, when she had acted swiftly to contain the wasp queen in their soon-to-be guild hall, and when they had gone questing for Safrin's library. Her fires were so, so bright when she let them burn, but all too often they were banked and hidden behind her self-conscious fears. He had glimpsed some of those insecurities in the woods beyond life, when she had received her grandmother's blessing. He had not realized then how something had shifted in him, a conscious determination to become a support for her, who had lost so much and relied on so few.
As you are mine, he confirmed, gentle welcome in his mental voice that even so left no room for argument. As Val had once been to him, and would remain in his memory, so Amalia now was. He ducked his head as she scooped him close, allowing the liberty even though Isuma peeped tired protest as her nap was interrupted. As the leopard set to grooming him - strange, uncomfortable, not particularly pleasant for a fox, but a gesture he accepted for her sake as part of the compromises of friendship - he turned his attention to checking on her wounded paw.
Will you tell me about your grandmother? he asked gently. She sounds like she was a remarkable woman.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-26-2019
Foxes, it turns out, shed powerfully against a cat's tongue. Amalia draws her tongue away and it is coated in white fur, thick and cottony in her mouth. Snorting, the big cat attempts to spit it out, a comical series of sounds sputtering from her lips.
When at last she is rid of the fluff she settles back down, wrapping her long body closely around Jigano and Isuma, her head resting peacefully on the grass. For a moment she waits, content yet aware, nose and ears ready to capture any new threat. But things seem quiet for the moment, and Amalia let's herself relax.
Jigano's gentle question stops the purr in her breast. Tell me about your grandmother. Tensing slightly, she turns away, the wound still painful despite years of scarring, raw and tender beneath her skin. Amalia is silent for a few seconds, her dark eyes distant as she stares at the shrine. What is there to tell him? Where to start? A million stories and memories fill her mind, but they all seem too small, too personal, too precious to lay bare for the world and it's judgment.
She is a hoarder of memories, for the are all she has left.
Swallowing, the leopard physically sighs, her mental voice a quiet, earnest thing, shaking slightly as she recounts. She loved the old gods, especially Rae and Frey. She would tell me stories about them, and she taught me to pray. This was one of her favorite places.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-26-2019
Jigano slanted an amused glance at the leopardess as she realized the error of her ways too late. He snorted softly to himself as she tried to free herself of the fluff, nosing her paw a final time before satisfying himself that it was clean and no longer bleeding. It was a comfortable sort of place to be, now that the work was done and their foliage foe vanquished and left to die in the sunshine. Amalia was warm and soft behind him and Isuma was whistling in her sleep as her little talons began to twitch in dreaming.
He had meant his question to bring back warm memories, pleasant ones, but the silence of her purr and the tension in the stocky body behind him warned him that his curiosity was anything but welcome. You don't have to, he said gently, but his friend had already worked up her courage, and a few reluctantly-released facts tumbled out. Jigano was silent, considering the information but it felt so... distant. Like it could have been anyone Amalia was talking about, of the older generations.
Do you want to talk about her? he asked after a few moments of consideration. I want to know more about you, of the life you've had and the people in it... but... not if those memories are going to cause you pain to share.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-26-2019
I don't... like to talk about her, she nearly replies, but she isn't sure that's true. Amalia brings up her grandmother often, sprinkling bits of wisdom the woman passed on like seeds on a loaf of bread. She lives and works in the old woman's shop, sings her songs and worships her gods. Amalia breathes her grandmother's memory, carries it with her wherever she goes.
And yet when is the last time she talked - truly talked - about the woman her Nani was, the things that made her exceptional and left an imprint on the leopard's heart? She does not want to cry, to feel, to hurt. So she rallies, adopting the facade she always wears when talking about the past, pleasant and distant. She used to get all the local kids together to bake, and then said whoever was cleanest at the end would get a prize. I never won. Wry humor slips into her voice, the memory triggering something almost bright and brittle, bittersweet. Everyone loved her.
She grows quiet again, and the only sound is the leaves fluttering in the breeze.
She was my best friend, the girl says at last, her tone hushed and pained, the confession lanced by mourning. When she died it was just me and Ma, and... it broke us. Tears appear in the corners of her eyes; she bites her lip to keep them down, sharp fangs pressing hard enough to draw a drop of blood.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-27-2019
His ears flagged at hearing the initial deflection, 'I don't' sounding fairly straightforward and leaving him feeling guilty for intruding into a place he wasn't wanted, and could only cause pain. Amalia had every right to hide her past away from him, and perhaps Rory could tell him more... though that didn't seem fair either, asking personal questions through someone else.
Before he could resign himself to not knowing, however, her voice slid into his thoughts again. He perked his ears back up, eager to listen, but the oddly flat, impersonal pleasantness in her tone had him turning to look up at her worriedly. The story was simple but sweet, a window into a past he could only imagine but Amalia had lived it. The pain of loss was still fresh after all the time that had passed, her heart unhealed, and the fox twisted to sit up and press his cheek hard against hers, one paw resting on her shoulder for support.
She is gone, but not far, he consoled her. Remember what Ludo said, and what she said through them. She is proud of you, Amalia. As am I. And she watches over you still. I think that she will be happy, so long as you can find happiness. Tell me, my Amalia, what makes you happy? he coaxed, trying to bring to mind deliberately good memories to drown out the sorrow of loss.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-27-2019
Jigano's attempt at consolation is met with a slight softening of muscles, though she does not turn her head as the paw rests on her shoulder. There is no she sounds lovely, no please go on.
Why did you ask, if you don't really care? she wants to demand, but bites her tongue and takes a breath instead. Pain makes her angry, and his apparent disinterest in her tales is salt on a wound she tried to bare and open. Part of her knows she is being unreasonable, that he is only trying to help, to soothe. But another part, the anxious and guarded human in her soul, wishes he had not tried.
I don't know. It is a flat answer, moody perhaps, though she tries to keep the bite of ire out of her mental voice. It isn't his fault, it's hers for being like this, for being inadequate once again. What about you? Where is your family? Deflecting off her own brittle pain, Amalia at last turns to the fox, guarded curiosity in her eyes. She knows nothing of his life before this, the things he has lost.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-27-2019
He had pushed too hard. Again. As he had with Remi, his curiosity into Amalia's past had created a rift between them. Rather than continue her stories after he had offered her solace she went silent and remained tense, closing herself off - closing him out, and leaving him guilty and aching for what his thoughtless words had done.
The pain of knowing he had hurt her was worse than anything that had happened to his tail that day.
Slowly the fox pulled away, realizing too late how he had forced his touch on her. It was too much, to stay so close when he had already done too much damage, and he was forcibly reminded of why he avoided touching others, or being touched by them.
It only ends in pain.
He slipped from the circle of her paws, leaving Isuma sleeping obliviously within the leopardess's protection while he hopped up onto the sun-warmed top of a glowstone, white fur blending in with white rock except where blood dotted his hindquarters. He turned his attention to cleaning it from his fur as he considered her deflection, and let out a silent mental sigh.
Dead. Six years ago. A myrmidon was sent to attack my home town in... retaliation, for my friends and I sticking our noses where they didn't belong. My parents were caught in the crossfire, as were many other innocents. I had no siblings. Val was the closest he had known to a sister, but she had stayed in Torch while he had journeyed and time and experience had caused them to drift apart. And then, after the Silvermount, he hadn't been able to face her again.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-27-2019
He slips away, and the leopard feels another piece of her shutter off in response, a new wound piercing her thin skin. Too fragile, too weak, too selfish- it is always the case, and they always leave her behind, unimpressed when she falls apart, unwilling and unable to put the pieces back together (and who can blame them, really? They're her fragments, her wounds, and she should be strong enough to heal them herself but she just isn't and---)
Dead, he says, and the girls heart sinks, her spiraling anxiety falling away, replaced by empathy for her friend.
I'm so sorry, Jigano. She does not move for fear of disturbing the gryphlet, and also for fear of pushing too far, interrupting him and hurting him in this time of grief. But her voice is rich with heartache and affection. She only wishes there was something better she could say, could do. I'm sure it wasn't your fault.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-27-2019
He paused in his cleaning to nod at her condolences. He was no empath, gifted with the ability to eavesdrop on the hearts of others. He didn't know how his attempt to give her space had hurt her, or he would never have made the mistakes that continued to make things worse. But her attempt at shifting the blame earned a snort, the old bitterness welling up in his chest as she forced him to spell it out more clearly, that first and hardest memory of failure that had consequences beyond himself.
Mine, and no other, he corrected grimly, unable to hide the twist of guilt and vicious blame in the open tones of mindspeech as he would have done had they spoken aloud. The myrmidon's master made certain we knew why it was there. We had gone into the lair of his rival and obtained something he wanted very badly. He threatened our home and loved ones, demanding we bring it to him, or he would destroy everything we held dear. He provided a... demonstration, of his power, and his seriousness.
The fox laid his head down, ears flat as he stared out across the shrine and the glade, blue eyes hard. The joke was on him, as it turned out. My friends were not ones for much sentiment, and had no real ties to the town. I was the point of leverage... and my parents had taken shelter in the building he 'demonstrated' on. Something we discovered after he had left. So, his threats no longer mattered after that. But if I hadn't gone into the Choking Tower, if I hadn't gone to Scrapwall, if I hadn't followed the light out to the starfallen ship that night... If and if and if, Amalia, he said wearily, blinking back to the present and turning to look at his feline friend. Every choice I made led to that moment, and I had so many chances to step away. But I did not, and they died for my stubbornness and my pride and my curiosity. It was not my hand that wielded the weapon, no, but it was my actions that brought the weapon to Torch, and my decisions that catalyzed it being used.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-28-2019
Jigano weaves his tale and Amalia listens raptly, empathy and guilt a raging war inside her feline heart. She would not have expected this from Jigano - wise, worldly, patient, kind. To hear the depth of his mistakes, the sordid tale of youthful pride; it shakes something deep at the girl's core, leaves her in doubt of her understanding of the way of the world.
Not that she blames him- she does not, cannot, never could find it in her to fault him for his sins. She knows too well the weight of guilt, how it can sit on one's shoulders and gnaw at their bones. You couldn't have known, she whispers instead, mental voice still and deep, a lifeline in the space between their minds.
Standing now despite Isuma, the leopard moves to sit behind her friend, close enough to invite his touch but far enough so as not to force it. My grandmother... she used to say that mistakes are like bad food. They taste bitter and hard to swallow, and they might make you want to give up cooking, but if you're willing to taste them and see what went wrong you can improve the recipe for next time. Maybe it's true, maybe it is not. But it's the only thing she can think to give.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-28-2019
There was a long silence, and then something in the small canine body seemed to give out, the fox sagging on the rock. No, he agreed in a soft voice that was barely a whisper. I could not. I should have... but... But that wasn't the way the world worked. If he had known then he wouldn't have made the mistakes that he had made, now would he? Except...
And even if I had known... I would have made the same decisions anyway, he admitted as she came to stand next to him. He accepted her presence and her strength, but the shadows of his past weighed too heavily on his heart, recalled so vividly to his mind once more, and he couldn't find the strength to accept her solace when he had borne his guilt so dearly and so long. I paid and I paid and I paid, but each price was accepted willingly. Each one, in that long, terrible chain, was necessary. My parents didn't have to die, but we had to go to the Choking Tower. We had to face its master and gain the information that would lead us to the Scar of the Spider. And by doing so, we had no way not to wake the ire of Ozmyn Zaidow and bring his wrath down on my home. If my parents hadn't been in town that day, celebrating our return... if they had chosen a different building to shelter in... if... He grew silent again, and this time when Amalia spoke he sighed and allowed himself to lean against her. Not to comfort himself, but to support her and the loss of her beloved grandmother.
I wish I could have met her, he said wistfully. Though... she probably would have seen that I was trouble immediately, and wouldn't have let you join my guild or consort with me. Did she love the Atheneum as you do?
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-28-2019
She cannot say she understands it all, the tale he weaves and the life he has lived. She is an uneducated child next to him, a girl in a snowglobe, never to emerge or truly feel the sun. She will never have to make choices with consequences as grandiose as his.
But pain and loss is a universal language, and guilt sings deeply to the wounds inside her heart.
So she sits in silence as he speaks, letting her warmth be available to him. When he finally leans back, she let's her head resting gently on his shoulder, a comforting rumble rising in her breast.
Something like a chuckle leaves the leopard. She didn't mind it, but she liked to be outdoors, or in the shop. The Antheneum was too quiet for her. I only really starting going there when she died. It was too hard to be in the shop... Around things that reminded me of her. And my mom spent all her time in the infirmary. So I... Found my solace in books.
A sigh, but it is lighter this time, more nostalgic than mournful, enraged.
She would have loved you, though. Like I do.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Jigano - 04-28-2019
He did not deserve her comfort or her understanding, but he could not stop himself from the way her warmth soaked through to him, or resist the rumbling purr that worked its way into his bones and eased some of the tension from him at having to relive the memories he had never really moved beyond. It was a relief when she released him from the past, though perhaps his guilt did not weight quite so heavily on his heart as once it had. She had not turned away when she heard what he had done, after all. Though if she ever knew the rest...
He turned his head, nuzzling her cheek as she told him more of her Nani, a woman who preferred doing things to reading about others doing them. He had not realized Amalia had come to books so relatively late in her life, but her devotion to them more than made up for the time lost.
And then she said she loved him, and the fox froze.
It was too much. After the pain of his memories he had never felt less worthy of her love, but also never in more need of it. He pressed his face into her fur, eyes squeezed shut against the emotions that crowded through him, too large for his small body. Isuma peeped and rolled over in her sleep, dreams sent askew as her companion tried to find the words to reject his right to the leopardess's heart, her family, her trust and care...
He could not find the words because there were no words. His thoughts were chaotic, jumbled, but he finally found two out of all the hundreds he might have used. My Amalia, he whispered, and with them came not words but emotions, the feelings of protectiveness and affection, belonging and love that she had earned through her words and her actions and the time they had spent together, blurring the lines between friends and family when both of them had been left with neither for far too long.
RE: [Seasonal Event] Many Paws Make Light Work - Amalia - 04-29-2019
She does not say anything in reply. She has never been good with words, not a poet or bard like him. Amalia speaks most through actions, feelings, expression, intonation. Deepening her purr, she lowers her head to wrap over his shoulder, a warm bastion for his hurt, an anchor in the dark.
Unaccustomed to being the one offering shelter, the girl finds she relishes the role. It is easier to give love than receive it, and Amalia has so much love to give.
So she stays for him, absorbing his pain willingly onto her shoulders, if only it means his own weight will be less. The losses she has felt, the wounds she has worn- they are nothing by comparison, and the girl feels shame for her obstinance, her unfounded belief that he ought to soothe her. It is her role to help, to serve, to carry the past.
She is good for nothing, if not this.
She let's him guide their next actions. She will stay here, or lay back down, curled around her pack. She will fight their foes, right their wrongs, tell him stories and songs. Amalia will do whatever is asked by the ones she holds most dear.
The only thing he must not ask of her is that she leave.