02.03.09 - Take it Back

Location: Redwall Open Ground

Characters Involved: Harper, Darcy

There was some sort of back-up in the stairs! So they doubled back. Tricksy, them. "So I miss the little bugger, ya know it?"

"Oh, oh yeah, though I'm not sure how well he'd take to being called a 'little bugger'," Darcy chuckles. It's chilly, but a nice night; she hasn't bothered with a jacket, it's just a round-about way back to the infirmary. The doe's steps are slow, aimless. "How soon do you expect him back anyway? Few seasons?"

Darcy says, "To visit, I mean."

"Well, it'll depend on if there's another Patrol visit... If not? Eh. Private by seven seasons, no doubt. Then he could easily be stationed at the 67th for a while... I s'pose /I/ could always visit there. See Jarril, 'n' my mum 'n' brother."

"The 67th is kind of ... creepy-weird-ish, isn't it though?" Darcy points out, scuffing a wayward chunk of ice with her toe.

Harper chuckles. He... shrugs. "It's, you know. There are long-timers that've gotten kinda funny. Never havin' a hot meal'll or seein' the sunlight'll do that to ya." But he shrugs. "The short-timers ain't so bad. It's not a bad place, really."

Darcy rolls her shoulders backward in a slight shrug. "Heh, well. Yeah. Can't envision him all cooped up in that place, though." She pauses, looking off toward the wall. "I want to visit Salamandastron. Never been there. I'd like to visit Zoe, you know? ... hah, you're going to poke fun at me, I /know/ you are."

Harper looks back at Darcy with a half-smile, a quirky little thing. He shakes his head. "No. I won't. The Colonel's... hard not t'love. Maybe we could visit t'gether sometime. If the Abbey c'n spare the both of us at once, anyway." Chuckle.

"She was like.. I guess my mentor? While she was here. Something. Especially with all those weeks of the plague. I /miss/ her." Darcy shakes her head a little, smiling ruefully. ".. but yeah. Yeah, we can find a few weeks to spare sometime, summer maybe? Go visit, get back here in time for the harvest? ... that'd be nice, Harp, I'm holding you to it."

From the direction of the entryway comes a squirrel, middle-aged, sort of brownish gray in color and bundled up against the cold. He looks tired, and a little lost, gazing around at the main building and then the open ground with his brows furrowed.

Harper pauses in their trek, breeeathing in the fresh night air. It's crisp, no doubt, but it's also good. He tilts his head back, looking up at the stars. "I'll hold you on that, too," Harper agrees. The squirrel goes unnoticed by the buck.

Darcy tilts her muzzle up to give Harper a soft smile, kind of affectionate, kind of far-off and thoughtful. She doesn't say anything else right away.

The squirrel takes a few more steps, looking around, then sees the hares. "Oh, uh. Hey? 'scuse me?"

"Mm?" Harper looks around, his smile extending to the stranger. "Oh! Hello. C'n I help you?" He turns, taking a few idle steps that way.

Darcy's steps take her in a slight turn, and her head tilts, hands sliding into her pockets.

The squirrel gives the pair of them a weary smile. "Yes, thanks - just point me toward the infirmary? Them at the gate told me it was around this way..."

"Oh, well-" And Harper looks around, and then points towards the infirmary. "It's just there. That window with the light in it? That's the infirmary."

Darcy's head tilts. ".. you don't look like you're dying."

The squirrel nods and smiles at Harper. "Okay, thanks.. I wasn't sure, since it's, heh, on the second floor." His ears twitch as his eyes go to Darcy. "Ah, I'm not, thank heavens. I have a letter to deliver, is all, they said I'd find the guy there."

Harper's eyebrows go up. "The guy? What guy?" Now he's flat-out intrigued.

And the squirrel's gaze flicks back to Harper. "Harper .. Seton? No, Sutton, I think?" He digs into an inside pocket of his coat.

Darcy's brows lift up immediately. "Oh, that guy."

Harper's ears perk. He glances back at Darcy, eyebrows raising, and then back to the squirrel. "That'd be... me." What? Did Tam catch a messenger while on the road and send a letter back? That /would/ be just like him.

The squirrel blinks. "Oh! .. oh, well. Heh. This is yours, then," he says, and hands it over. A little crinkled, but. Letter!

Darcy's eyes meet Harper's, and she shrugs. "Could be. He's apparently getting good at writing without knowing /how/.."

Harper takes the letter, flipping the envelope over. His name's scrawled there. It's not a very sophisticated script, but it's not dibbun-done. His brow furrows. "Huh." He turns the envelope again, slitted the seal with a claw-tip.

His task complete, the squirrel nods at them both and heads inside.

Darcy edges in a sidestep to bring her closer to Harper, peering at the letter as it's opened. Curious, can you blame her?

Harper extracts the trifolded papers from the envelope, the latter of which is handed off to Darcy. "Not Tam's writing," he murmurs. He counts the pages. Three of them. His brow furrows and he flips it around to read the first. "Amelia? I don't know any..." He trails off. Just reads.

Darcy's eyes narrow a fraction. "Distant cousin? Old admirer?" she suggests, but her voice is low, and once Harper starts reading she quiets. The doe watches his face.

The smile of before is gone. His eyes scan rapidly back and forth, back and forth. And then. He staggers. A choked sob is ripped from his chest. "What?" His face contorts, smooths out, and contorts again. His eyes scan the page even more rapidly than before. "... What?"

Darcy starts to look a little alarmed as soon as the smile slips off Harper's countenance. "Harp?" Her hand catches against his forearm, ears pinning back. "Harper. What. What's it /say/.."

The papers slip free of his hold, flutter to the damp snow. His shoulders hitch. Another sob is wrenched out of him as he drops forward in the snow, going to his knees.

Darcy loses her hold on him from this motion, but a moment later she drops also. The pages are snatched up before the snow really damages them. "/Harper/." Her voice is strained, eyes on the buck with worry before they drop to the first page. She skims over it.

Harper curls forward over himself, arms hugging around himself. His forehead touches forward in the snow and he just. Reels back. And wails, up at the sky. He collapses back forward, his paws held palms upward, cradling nothing. "Nononono... Flax, /no/. My /babies/...."

The letter gets right to the point. Darcy shudders and her fist clenches, the parchment crumpling in that hold. She draws a breath, lets it out, stunned and helpless. She says nothing - what to say? One hand slides to his shoulder, squeezes.

Harper jerks forward in the snow, freeing himself of the burning comfort. He falls forward, onto his hands and knees, his paws disappearing to his wrists in the snow. But he's unaware of the cold. "My... I held them in the palm of my hands, they were so /tiny/... Their little cries..."

His snot and tears mix, trailing in the snow.

That hand draws toward Darcy, fisting, lifting toward her muzzle. Her upper lip draws back, showing a kind of silent snarling expression at his anguish. The doe looks about ready to cry also. ".. Harper. Harper.." Her voice is tiny. She doesn't know what to /do/.

"I should have... I should have..." His muzzle twists. "I should've /been there/!" He shudders. "I should've... should've..." But he just trails off, his head resting forward in the snow, supported by his forearms.

Darcy shakes her head, stubbornly. The letter is shoved away in her pocket, and she moves forward on her knees, grips him by the arm and shoulder. "Harp. /Harper/. No. Harp? Look at me.." Her voice shudders, nearly breaks. "... Harper.."

He slowly turns his head, cheek resting unawares in the snow. His eyes are full of twisting anguish. His eyes narrow with pain, briefly close, open again.

Darcy's arms slide lightly around his shoulders, form leaned over him, face against his shoulder. Just contact, the best comfort she knows how to give. ".. not your fault," she mumbles, shifting her muzzle to the side, meeting his eyes. It's heart-wrenching. Tears blur her vision. "Harper," she whispers, and holds him tighter.

Harper just looks lost. Whether or not her words are getting through to him is debatable. His eyes close this time, and they do not open again. His paw comes around, going for the pocket he knows she's stored the letter. He fumbles a little.

She lets him take it, and her arms stay around him. Helplessly Darcy gives a little crooning noise, warm and breathy, meant to be comforting.

Once he has the letter, he crumples it in his paw. And starts to push up at the shoulders. Intending to get up. He makes nary a sound.

Darcy's arms ease from around him. She looks at his face carefully, blinking back moisture, the soothing sound ebbing off into silence. The doe sets one foot against the ground and stands up, grasping one of his arms, pulling to help Harper stand as well.

Harper just stands there. Shoulders hunched. He looks down at the crumpled letter in his hands. Not moving or speaking. And then he starts moving forward.

Darcy's fingers press at his arm briefly, then she drops her hand. Her features are tense. "... Harp?"

Harper pauses. Turns his head slightly, but doesn't look back. "... I'm okay." He sounds anything but. He sounds dead.

He starts walking again.

Like hell he's okay. Darcy draws a breath, lets it out, and follows. At first she stays a step back - then edges closer again, hand at the bend of his arm. ".. you want to. To lie down? Something to drink?" Her voice is gruff with anxiety.

Harper shakes his head, gently freeing his arm. "... No, Darcy." His voice is low, soft, and devoid.

She doesn't try to keep that hold. Her ears are back, expression fretful. Helplessly the doe blinks a few times. ".. nothing I can do?" she mumbles.

"Can you-" He stops, his face twisting. /No./ "Can you take it back?" No, he didn't think so. And with that he just goes to walk off into the night.

Darcy flinches. Her fingers curl together, tightly, in front of her, and he stares after him until he's gone, taking slow breaths.