Things had gotten exciting! Well, very tragic yes but exciting! Tray couldn't remember the last time he'd been so very afraid and, at the same time, so enamored with what was going on around him. This was the stuff of legends! These were the times that were sung about and just to witness them was thrilling, granted Tray had hidden himself away as his meager telepathy wouldn't do much in protecting those around him but to be alive!
Now, though, there was a lot of work to be avoided, more than was usual especially around the house where his brothers invariably found him despite his best efforts to the contrary. So here he was, wandering the cold streets avoiding clean up efforts in the immediate vicinity of his house. The trick with avoiding work in public was that you needed to look as if you were so busy as to not be bothered by anyone but not so busy as to doing any actual labor. Also, not having to lie outright and allowing others to set the lie up for themselves was also a plus. What that looked like for Tray in this moment was a hand shovel he'd taken from home and an armful of blank rolls of paper, he hoped that he'd be taken for a city official taking stock of the damage. To really drive the point home he'd stop every so often and make it appear as if he were taking notes on his paper, in reality he was simply sketching scenes he found interesting.
This was how he found himself at the ruined wall, engrossed in his sketching while some poor sop made all sorts of racket, grating the shovel through the rubble, absolutely not conducive to a creative atmosphere. Tray tried clearing his throat a few times before finally resorting to making obvious sighs of frustration.
Now, though, there was a lot of work to be avoided, more than was usual especially around the house where his brothers invariably found him despite his best efforts to the contrary. So here he was, wandering the cold streets avoiding clean up efforts in the immediate vicinity of his house. The trick with avoiding work in public was that you needed to look as if you were so busy as to not be bothered by anyone but not so busy as to doing any actual labor. Also, not having to lie outright and allowing others to set the lie up for themselves was also a plus. What that looked like for Tray in this moment was a hand shovel he'd taken from home and an armful of blank rolls of paper, he hoped that he'd be taken for a city official taking stock of the damage. To really drive the point home he'd stop every so often and make it appear as if he were taking notes on his paper, in reality he was simply sketching scenes he found interesting.
This was how he found himself at the ruined wall, engrossed in his sketching while some poor sop made all sorts of racket, grating the shovel through the rubble, absolutely not conducive to a creative atmosphere. Tray tried clearing his throat a few times before finally resorting to making obvious sighs of frustration.
