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Author Topic: Incy Wincy Spider [Kieran]  (Read 788 times)

Incy Wincy Spider [Kieran]
« on: February 25, 2018, 02:22:06 AM »
With every passing season, Struna longed for home a little more.  Summer had given way to autumn and on cold mornings, when frost glittered on the ground, it was easy to imagine the frigid waters of the Great Lake, tendrils of mist rising from its mirror-like surface.  The air would be cool and still, painted with the laboured breath of sailors, punctured by the flat krrp krrp of coots and the sound of Mayberry voices - singing low and steady - setting the rhythm to the day’s work.

Perhaps it was this thought that caused the dark-haired girl to begin humming quietly to herself as she stabbed a piece of potato with her fork.  Meal time was all but over, another day done and dusted, and many cadets had already finished eating and retired to the sleeping quarters.  Those few who lingered talked over bowls containing remnants of congealing stew, the energy and excitement of the day ebbing away.  There was no indication of the furore that was about to ensue.

It started with a gasp, and then a cry of surprise and fright.  Chairs creaked and scraped across the wooden floor - a sure sign several persons had risen from their seat in haste.  Chewing idly on a mouthful, Struna watched the chaos unfold, disinterested until a particularly hysterical youth squealed - “There’s - there’s a spider!” 

One of her companions, a boy whose handsome face was painted with acne, was quick to play the part of hero.  “Don’t worry, I’ll squish it for ya, doll!”

A spider?

Well now, that changed everything.

Struna dropped her fork and jumped to her feet, bolting towards the group.  A small, skittery shadow on the floor denoted the movement of the arachnid - evidently the boy saw it too, for he lifted his leg and aimed his boot.  “No!” Struna protested and, not having had time to plan, slammed herself into him.  He was taller and broader than she, so while the violet-eyed girl interrupted his attack, she did not send him flying to the floor.  “Just leave it alone!  It’s more scared of you than you are of it!”  The spotted cadet stood there, dumbfounded, and Struna was agitated enough to push him, slamming her hands against his shoulders.  “Go on, get out, go away!”

One of the group was giggling now, trying to stifle the sound by pressing a hand to her mouth.  Struna answered their amusement and silent judgement with a glare.  They didn’t know the misfortune that would rain down on them if they killed the defenceless, lucky creature.  With a huff, the former fisherwoman dropped to her knees and peered under the table, trying to locate the spider.  The boy glanced from Struna to his companions, and mockingly twirled his finger at his temple.  By his judgement, something so small wasn’t worth fighting over.  “Good luck finding your friend,” he drawled, turning to leave, his companions following, laughing in earnest now.

“Thanks,” Struna responded out of reflex, without looking up, focused instead on scooping up the spider and releasing it safely outside.  Sarcastic or no, a wish of good luck was still a wish of good luck.
Logged


Re: Incy Wincy Spider [Kieran]
« Reply #1 on: June 24, 2018, 12:28:28 AM »
As usual, Kieran was among the last to eat. Having gotten himself in trouble for muttering an insult at the instructor, Kieran had to stay out longer running laps as punishment. He was not going to be easy to break, and yelling at Kieran did little, but perhaps make him more mouthy. So now with his bowl filled with cooled stew and bottom of the pot stew to boot, he moved to find a seat in the hall.

"You. Move." He jerked his head to emphasize his words; blue eyes narrowed as he glared at the other cadet, a look that promised trouble if the other did not do as he asked. There were many other seats in the hall, but this one served as the best vantage point. His back to the wall facing all others in the room, so no possible attack from behind and he keeps an eye on the others while he ate his stew.

Old habits are hard to break.

The cadet looked at his bowl, now empty save for the spoon and remnants of broth that clung to the bowls side and pooled at its bottom, and then back up at Kieran. The other's dark eyes bore into his own,  challenging him.

The cry of surprise caught Kieran's attention. Breaking from the staring contest, he turned his head, spinning on his heels to face the commotion,  his stew sloshing from one side of the bowl to the other from the sudden disruption.

“There’s - there’s a spider!”   

A spider? How Pathetic.

Kieran thought inwardly as he reached for the spoon that in his soup, his hand finding it just as a raven-haired cadet bolted towards the speckled face boy who was about to squish the little pest. 

Huh? Now this is interesting

Kieran quirked a brow as he ate the first cold spoonful of stew, slurping at the spoon to make none of the thickened liquid spilled. The years fighting - earning - his meals had thought him to eat fast and let none of it go to waste, so cold or not, the stew would not go to waste.

He watched as the girl slammed into the boy whose face was an unfortunate mess of blemishes, her anger about killing such a meaningless little thing piquing his interest. As the group left, their laughter no longer loud and uninhibited, Kieran walked over, his bowl still in hand. He didn't dare put down his bowl - there was a cadet known for having a bottomless stomach and a love for food.  He didn't know why he decided to wander over to the girl who was still on her knees looking for the creature, but at least it was more interesting than staring into another boy's eyes for the rights to a seat.

Coming to a stop next to the girl, Kieran bent down, squinting his eyes as he tried to spot the spider. "Why such a scene for  a measly spider?

« Last Edit: June 24, 2018, 06:42:58 AM by Kieran Ashmiller »
Logged


Re: Incy Wincy Spider [Kieran]
« Reply #2 on: October 12, 2019, 01:32:41 PM »
The urgent search for the spider was briefly interrupted by the sound of approaching footfall, a pair of military-issue boots coming to a halt beside her. Struna glanced up suspiciously from her spot on the floor - half-expecting to be harrassed again - and found a boy with a bowl of stew clutched in his hand. His body was bent, with hair as dark as a raven's wing tumbling over his brow and into narrowed blue eyes, his expression suggesting that he was looking for the spider too.

After a pause, Struna continued her search, peering between the legs of abandoned chairs, her gaze darting over the odd spatter of spilt food. What a mess. What a waste.

Why such a scene for a measly spider?

"Landfolk're a strange breed," she answered quietly, as though to speak too loud would be to startle the arachnid. "Seem t' think the little critters'll do 'em harm." Struna sat back on her heels a moment, slender fingers pushing loose hair back behind an ear. Her focus shifted back to the newcomer, violet-hued eyes drifting up his form. He was perhaps a couple of years younger than she was, shorter too, with some growing left to do. That being said, there was strength written into his limbs that belied his years and size. It occurred to Struna then that she may have misunderstood his question.

"Oh. You mean me?" From the first day she had arrived at the Training Corps barracks, having trundled in on the back of a cart with other young individuals coming from north Wall Rose, she had been painfully aware how mismatched she was. There were those who struggled with her dialect, whose gazes lingered on her unusual garb - layers of wool and waxed linen - and on boots that glittered with fish scales. Mercifully the uniform, as close-cut and flimsy as it felt, afforded her a degree of invisibility.

"S'bad luck t' kill a spider," Struna explained, ducking down beneath the table, this time crawling under, casting her eyes about until she emerged defeated at the other side. "Need all the luck we can get, bein' stuck in this shithole..." Reluctantly she climbed back onto her feet, brushing the crumbs from her clothes - even at this early stage of their training, it was already clear that the instructors didn't tolerate a shabby appearance. Unfortunately for Struna, it would take more than a quick dusting down to shift the dirty marks on the knees of her white breeches.

Her attention returned fleetingly to the dark-haired boy, before darting around the floor, frustrated by the deep colour of the stone, and how easily a spider could blend into it. "You were late t' dinner, huh?" It was half a statement, half a question, for it seemed to be the only explanation for the nearly-full bowl of cold-looking stew that the boy was clutching.
Logged


 

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