[Mini Event] this proves they were here

In the Hollowed Grounds there were many a crafter and creative alike. Among them, gray and fragile and bent nearly half over, was Ruth. Well known and well loved, the woman seemed as old as the barrier and as wise as the stones that lined her home's front entry. Unwilling to move, unwilling to do anything but love those that needed it, Ruth's home was well protected by the people of the grounds and her hearth well stocked with wood, her tea pot always over-flowing. All were welcome in Ruth's heart, just as all were welcome in this refuge.

Holding ties to no gods, Ruth made her way with the help of her neighbors in the dark of night when they could move the best. Kissing them each on their foreheads, holding their hands, and leaving them with words of love, Ruth waved good-bye to those that chose to fight. For those that stayed, however, Ruth carried them close to her chest as she always had.

The sun dimmed on the horizon as the world around them raged in fury and blood and ash. Ruth gathered her supplies and, when the time was appropriate, called out with her shaky, but attention-grabbing invitation, "Children of the refuge, come learn new skills useful for every region and every home!"

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This is a mini event directed at the children within the sanctuary, but all are welcome!

RUTH

the earth has music for those who listen

Mateo is a child of the refuge, and his are the sort of idle hands for which the devil makes a lot of work. All of this is to say that it's absolutely in everyone's best interests for him to keep busy, and so when the weathered voice calls out, he's more than happy to heed it. Arriving with leaves in his hair, bare feet and pockets filled with blackberries (you can tell by the stains), he falls to a halt a small distance away from Ruth, offering a bright and dimpled smile.

"What kind of skills?" he asks, enthralled. It's true that adolescence can make him moody and more than a little inappropriate at times, but the safe haven has brought out his boyish side; perhaps because that way, he doesn't have to think about death and destruction and his fathers at war. Every little helps, right?

Everest

Already Ever has a routine. Even though it has only been a few days, the boy's mind is regimented or, as his mother sometimes says, inflexible when it comes to simply going with the flow. So when Ruth's call interrupted reading time, Ever wasn't inclined to go at all. Only Mateo's enthusiastic insistence (and maybe a nod from Tobi), had him pottering after.

With his notebook in his hands, Ever looked like Mateo's raggedy ghost; his curls weren't as neat, his cheeks were a good deal more pale, and his eyeline seemed always aimed at the ground. "Hello." He offered politely before wondering if he'd spoken loud enough for the old woman to hear. Swallowing hard he looked to Mateo for any sort of guidance before awkwardly collapsing into a sitting position with his notebook on his lap.

But if the song never stopped, it wouldn't have any magic
So even though it's gotta end, I'll keep singing along

see what you find there with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

Paige wasn't happy about being in the Sanctuary. Not one bit. Admittedly, she was pretty mad about it. The young Attuned had argued with her mother, expressing her desire to stay and help, pleading with her for the chance. Yet her mom was steadfast against her daughter in that way only mother's could be when it came to the wellbeing of their children. Hence her being there with all of the other Halenani workers. Her Auntie Maeve having sent all of them to the Sanctuary as a precaution and what a good thing she did considering what was happening at their home.

She was sulking under a tree when the call went out, hood drawn up and arms crossed over her chest, glaring off at the grassy expanse that stretched before her. Blue eyes lift, flitting towards the old woman who has set up a pile of materials and she fights the urge to snort. "Basket weaving? Really?" The Attuned mutters to herself, pushing up from her resting spot and drifting towards the old woman if only to have something to do. Especially when she noticed that Mateo and Everest were there too.

Plopping down across from the woman, Paige raises a skeptical brow, "What's all this then?" Glancing towards Ever and Mateo, she offers a soft smile to the two boys, long limbs folding themselves into a resting position. All bare feet and slender legs, starting to grow into her expected height and curves as the years continued to pass her by.

Paige

Not all the water in the rough rude sea,

Despite his best efforts, Maeve had successfully made her son settle into the sanctuary for the war. All he had wanted to do was help, at least a little. he hadn't been planning to fight or anything. Yet Maeve had still caught him. It was frustrating but he understood him mum's concern. But with Safrin's protection, he would have been fine!

Edmund was sitting on the dock, deep in thought when Ruth's call reached him. Slightly curious and figuring it'd be best to make the most of his situation, the young Abandoned made his way over. it'd be something to do and learning new skills was a productive usage of his time.

Spotting Paige, he perked up a bit and sat next to her with a flop. "Hey." He didn't recognize the other two, but he did give them brief smiles in greeting, remembering his manners.

Edmund eyed the materials around them in confusion before eyeing Ruth with a warm smile, "What are we making?"

Edmund Ansel the Prince of Torchline

can wash the balm of an annoited king

The come and filter in as the woman calls. Joy spreads over her chest as the preteens gather, manifesting in a wrinkled smile. Wild grey hair halls as the wind twists it from her bun, and she tucked stray locks behind her ears as she moved to each of the children. She gathered the materials each of them would need before folded legs. As she moved to each child she gently smiled at them, picking a few leaves from Mateo's wild hair and touching Edmund's head gently. Paige and Everest went without a touch, however, as the woman's intuition told her it might not bode well.

"You are right," smiled Ruth, her diamond eyes staying soft on Paige, "basket weaving is a helpful skill to have." Ruth hobbled back over to her own supplies and, with surprising flexibility, sat on the ground criss-cross and started her instructions. "The materials bend together when wet. If you try to weave the strands dry, they will crack and break. Isn't that much like our own selves?" She let her eyes fall to her work, showing the children how to dampen the strands of wood to make them pliable. "When we are dry, crusted, closed in on ourselves rather than drenched in the sustaining water of love, we break."

RUTH

the earth has music for those who listen

Content next to his raggedy ghost of a friend, Mateo smiles across at both Paige and Edmund, despite only knowing one of them. Then he's distracted by the touch of a kind hand, blinking to see the leaves scattering down from his head. "I wondered where I put those," he says in a lilting accent, smiling and examining his supplies as they are placed before him.

A surprisingly adept student, one might think Mateo would dive ahead before being instructed, but this isn't about growing plants, so it doesn't happen. Indeed, as Ruth explains, he goes to work methodically soaking his materials so they are more supple, swallowing a sudden lump in his throat to hear the old woman speak. She reminds him so much of his Nonna Vai in the moment that it's as though she's still here, and he daren't look up in case his emotions get the better of him.

Everest

Nodding politely to Paige, Ever shrinks back as Ruth reaches out for his friend. When she doesn't reach out for him, Ever is quietly puzzled as to whether he's done something to earn her instant dislike of him. He didn't want to be touched of course, but that didn't make it clear why he hadn't been.

"I don't think that's true." Ever whispers softly to Mateo. "I don't break when I'm outside of the water. Even if I go too long without showering, I still don't break." That wasn't even to touch on what the sustaining water of love might be, though Ever recorded the phrase in his notebook to ask his mother about later. She was a doctor, so she should certainly know about magical healing properties like this.

Dutifully Everest picks up some strands and takes careful notes so that despite his clumsy efforts, he at least has the steps recorded for later practice.

But if the song never stopped, it wouldn't have any magic
So even though it's gotta end, I'll keep singing along

see what you find there with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

Paige doesn't roll her eyes or grumble at Ruth's unflappable happiness. How the old woman is managing it, she doesn't know, but it isn't for the pre-teen to figure out. She bites back the huff as Ruth very clearly dotes on Mateo and Edmund. It wasn't like she could bite. Didn't she deserve a head pat too? Grumbling a little to herself, the girl looks down at the materials before her before she grows quiet, contemplative even and actually focuses on what Ruth is saying.

Now, she could continue to be cranky and not actually try, but Paige really wasn't the type. Even if she seemed it. Only pouting a moment longer, the young Attuned followed the directions, taking a bit of the wood and placing it in the water to allow it to soak before bending it to the shape she was meant to be making. "Do Princes make baskets?" She teases, glancing over at Edmund with an arched brow.

Paige

Not all the water in the rough rude sea,

"Still not a prince." Edmund counters without missing a beat before playfully adding, "Because if I am, then you're a duchess if I'm recalling succession rights correctly. And you sure don't fit that image at all." Cousins of the royal family were often dukes and duchesses, right? He thinks he read that somewhere.


Edmund sets about trying to create a basket. It's a new skill for sure and it's nice to make something with his own two hands. Though, despite having the precision and accuracy to be a great archer, the young Abandoned apparently is lacking in arts and crafts skills. The basket is coming out wonky, a little lopsided. But still somewhat functional.

Edmund Ansel the Prince of Torchline

can wash the balm of an annoited king

Ruth seemed quite happy and enthralled in her own instruction and simultaneous weaving of her own basket. She didn’t give much notice to the banter between Paige and Edmund, though it was not lost to her ears. Years and years of being around younglings of all varieties and she knew what was worth it to latch on to and what was not. Her shaky hands worked on her reeds and she looked up at each student before moving to the next task.

Ruth lifted her head for a moment and pointed a hand at Everest, her smile unwavering. ”Can you grab the maiden hair ferns and distribute them to the others?” Her voice was like honey, and the message behind her eyes (whether he would pick up on it or not) was that it would be quite more effort than she was willing to put in at the moment to stand and sit again. Lowering her chin again, Ruth continued to work on her basket. ”As you work, make sure the bottom of your basket is strong and the reeds are woven close. Elsewise you will lose your goods. Do any of you have an idea of why basket weaving is such a useful skill to have?” the old woman asked, looking up through dark lashes and a curtain of wispy white hair.

RUTH

the earth has music for those who listen

"Hm?" Rubbing at his eye with the shoulder of his shirt, Mateo glances up at Everest once he has begun the weaving of his basket. "Perhaps she means in a more... metaphorical way? Like how we missed each other when you moved away to Halo for that one season," he suggests, before Ruth is ordering Ever away to fulfil a task, and giving further instructions on their baskets.

Tightening up the bottom of his creation (Mateo does not want to lose his goods, thank you very much), he thinks on her question for a moment or so before speaking up. "Is it so that we can always make ourselves something to carry things?" he suggests.

Not all the water in the rough rude sea,

Edmund scowls slightly when the reed in his hand refuses to stay in place as he tries to weave it. Twisting his hand at an odd awkward, he manages to keep the piece still so that he can firmly entwine it with his basket. Or partial basket at the moment. Wetting his lips, the young Abandoned tries to keep the pieces close to each other as Ruth instructs.

At her question, he pauses. Edmund felt like there was some life lesson at hand but figures he should go for the literal answer first. "Maybe because being able to create something useful out of the plants and resources around us is always a good skill to have. You can make more than baskets with this kind of weaving, right?" He turns the question on Ruth curiously, recalling some of the goods he's seen being sold in Torchline over the years.

Edmund Ansel the Prince of Torchline

can wash the balm of an annoited king

Everest

'Oh.' Ever frowns doubtfully as if Mateo's interpretation couldn't possibly be right, though even in the few experiences he'd had so far, he knew that probably meant he was wrong and the other person was right.

Not knowing anything of princes or duchesses or whatever Paige and Edmund were talking about (though it made his stomach feel funny to see the pair with such easy camaraderie), Everest took a moment to inspect his hands, and then the blades of grass all around him. That was, until, Ruth called upon him.

Exceedingly happy to give a task to do that his mind can wrap itself all the way around and understand, Ever nods and immediately stands to do as Ruth had asked. The ferns were easy enough to identify given where the old woman had pointed, and soon Everest had distributed one (or two in Mateo's case) to the entire group.

But if the song never stopped, it wouldn't have any magic
So even though it's gotta end, I'll keep singing along