ISKRA
Between Goose and he, they both made quick work of the plate, sparing only a moment to tip his chin in greeting to Amhran. Iskra spares a moment to mourn the best part of this chore as he slowly places his dirty plate and utensils at the edge of the table, groaning into the lean to pick up the bucket of rocks.
"Isn't dirt just... really really small rocks?" Iskra asks uncertainly as he scatters his stones like chicken feed along the borders that Deimos has indicated. Goose bounds after them at first, snout following the sink into the snow. Yet after each occurrence he finds nothing of interest, so he soon forfeits the game to settle into a supervisory role instead, monitoring their path with a wayward inspection to each bucket every so often. Just to be certain something better hadn't appeared from the last time he checked.
A particularly shiny rock beckons a small girl towards the pattern Iskra had just laid down, and he calls out to her gently. "Hey, I got a better one here." He crouches for a moment, rifling through his bucket for the favorite one he'd spied earlier and set aside, saving it for the very end. It's dark, but marbled with gold veins that dazzle. He extends it to her and she happily agrees it is better and takes it instead. He's certain they have plenty of rocks, but he'd rather not doubt the gaps left behind him due to crow-eyed children.
"Isn't dirt just... really really small rocks?" Iskra asks uncertainly as he scatters his stones like chicken feed along the borders that Deimos has indicated. Goose bounds after them at first, snout following the sink into the snow. Yet after each occurrence he finds nothing of interest, so he soon forfeits the game to settle into a supervisory role instead, monitoring their path with a wayward inspection to each bucket every so often. Just to be certain something better hadn't appeared from the last time he checked.
A particularly shiny rock beckons a small girl towards the pattern Iskra had just laid down, and he calls out to her gently. "Hey, I got a better one here." He crouches for a moment, rifling through his bucket for the favorite one he'd spied earlier and set aside, saving it for the very end. It's dark, but marbled with gold veins that dazzle. He extends it to her and she happily agrees it is better and takes it instead. He's certain they have plenty of rocks, but he'd rather not doubt the gaps left behind him due to crow-eyed children.
It's hard to tell the truth when you lie to yourself
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again
Always give too much of you to someone else
I'm talkin' to you now like we're old friends
It'll never be too late to start again
