Snippets and Stories: (BP) A Joke

This happened relatively early in their journey.

Shortly after he realized what Vye was, Zeal had with all due haste, smuggled the Shol out of the sanctuary and past the wandering eyes of hunters and unsavory civilians alike.

At first the other was understandably cautious, yet nonetheless far too naive, placing far more trust in a completer and utter stranger than any of sound mind should. Tentative though it may be, and in what many would find an endearing manner.

Such was as Zeal noted on their very first night, having escaped the boundaries of the sanctuary and delving deep into the wilderness beyond.

Far enough out, he let the young Shol out of his knapsack, to continue on foot. The terrain was difficult to navigate.

And when his newly acquainted companion fatigued, Zeal forced him back into the knapsack that they may continue.

Zeal dared not break for rest, lest they be discovered.

Deep into the woods they went, afoot and on nonexistent paths long past the apex of the moon's journey, and even after the sentinel of the night had long since slipped beyond the horizon, retiring before them.

It was only by the next dusk when her pallor again greeted them, that Zeal finally permitted them to rest.

Such feats of endurance were not uncommon for the mercenary, but for the Shol it had been a trying first day, holed up in a cramped and stuffy bag, jostled and bumped.

So when they settled in for the night and Zeal assumed first watch that his charge may rest, it wasn't truly expected. Sleep was oftentimes when one was most vulnerable and helpless besides. And there was little reason to trust him.

So when the Shol bid him rest, and soon fell asleep, he was astounded.

They swapped off at the highest point of the moon's ascent, but Zeal himself held no such sense of trust, and but lay still. His breathing he slowed, and made shallow, feigning sleep. Not that the Shol noticed.

Too naive, he didn't even consider that there may be any ulterior motive.

Zeal allowed himself a light sleep, for no sleep made for poor judgement, and lacking attentiveness. Something his charge could not afford.

And had awoken that morning to find himself adorned with a garland of daisies, the sigil of friendship and faith.

Another Time, as he was making his rounds scouting out the area around camp, Zeal had opened his bag to find a braided twine of rosemary and white heather. While not well known, such plants afforded their keeper a small measure of protection, ward off malice and misfortune.

But he himself held his reservations, needless attachments were nothing but a burden. As Vye himself would discover, he was sure.

And so he remained aloof, cautious of the small curiosity that had so taken to him.

And then one evening as they sat around the campfire with Vye's incessant chatter rattling on his ears as was the norm, the Shol suddenly stopped. Zeal was ignoring him again.

He studied him carefully and then burst out laughing.

He thought his companion mad until the Shol stared him dead in the eye, lips quirked in a small smile, "You're a joke."

His first thought was nothing as what Vye said sunk in. But mostly for him to differentiate it as anything different than the usual droning chatter.

A joke.

His second, to backhand him for his stupidity.

Zeal didn't, although he did raise a brow at that. He would humor him, and because his curiosity was sufficiently piqued, "A joke."

Considering how much the Shol depended upon him, he was a fool to insult the only one keeping him from the reapers.

Had it been anyone else he would've been collared and thrown in ice. Vye would need to learn to watch his tongue if he wanted to survive. Mouthing off to the wrong person would mean death.

The Shol nodded, "Cowards hate, and bite. Pitiful things, for they can only pretend to have strength. They flaunt themselves with apathy, hatred, aggression, because they can do no better. All to protect themselves, because the truth is that they're weaker and more afraid than anyone else of being hurt. That's why they're always trying to prove that they're better and stronger. It's much harder to love, than it is to hate. "

Where was this coming from. Zeal grimaced.

"It isn't falling that makes you weak, it's never taking the leap. The strong just climb back up." Vye sang at him, "You're weak. G' night Zeal."

Speechless and in shock, he watched Vye clamber into the fine downy fibers of the bol he'd conjured.

Zeal stayed up late into the night on first watch, staring at the warm glow of the embers.

He was a joke.

He snorted. What utter nonsense.

The Shol was talking bloody nonsense.

He wasn't afraid of warmth, it simply wasn't on his mind. There were other things that took precedence, and there just wasn't the Time to devote himself to the consideration of something as time-staking and fanciful as Family.

But as the night wore on, his thoughts couldn't help but turn to the small gestures, and the small hand that was constantly reaching for his.

This must be what it was like to raise a Family. To have a child of his own.

And, he mused, it wasn't so bad.