12.04.08 - You Were Right

Location: Redwall Pond

Characters Involved: Sivaine, Zade

Ice is slowly forming along the edges of the pond, creeping outward, thickening toward eventually sealing over the entire surface - but the water, cold as it is, is still accessible for now, and this is where Zade can be found. He's dumped his belt and his tartan on the shore and plunged down into the frigid water, and he's swimming under the surface, breaking for short breaths of air and then submerging again. The pond ripples with the motions of the big otter in the middle of it as he uses the cold to help ease the tension and anger he's feeling still.

In a way, Zade got what he wanted, though he probably doesn't want it anymore - Sivaine has gone for a walk. She wanders, almost dreamlike, looking 'round at the skeletal trees and frosted ground, stumbling a bit on an uneven patch of ground. For once in her life she doesn't notice the cold enough to hate it, though her breath crystallizes and hangs and her only concession to the weather is a double-layer of blankets from the Great Hall, half-hanging haphazardly over her shoulders. She blinks and looks down when her foot hits something soft, then calls out over the water. "Zade."

The sound of his name comes at him through the chilled water. Zade doesn't really react to it. He finishes a sweep through the pond, swooping low, dragging his fingers over a rock and then resurfacing no faster than he was going to. His head breaks the surface and he draws a breath, then stays up, treading water and looking at her with a cool expression.

Well, she wasn't really expecting anything better. Sivaine opens her mouth to say something, hesitates. Chances are she won't get another shot at this, so she takes time choosing her words, picking them over with care. A weak wind stirs her loose headfur, forcing her to spit out a strand. "Pfui. Wait, no. Sorry." Her paw shifts beneath the ersatz shawls. "I talked to Harper. It wasn't what he thought it was. I told him that. I think he understands." Pause. "I'm an idiot."

"Yes," Zade agrees, voice carrying a hard edge. "You're a damn idjit an' you're an arse." This is probably a very nice way of saying what he wants to. The otter's teeth bare a little and his head goes underwater. He twists and aims toward the shore, using the momentum of the swimming to make a light leap out of the water - shaking himself and going to snatch up his tartan, which is at her feet. This is used as a towel, swiped across his chest and one arm while he glares at her. "Were y' /listenin'/? Did y' /hear/ what he accused me of?!"

Sivaine doesn't move, though her whiskers twitch when icy drops spatter across her feet and face. Her good paw hooks the blankets, pulls them closer. "Yes," she says quietly, "I heard. And I am." Her expression is impassive - exanimate, maybe - and her tail stilled, voice low. "I know what he thought. That's my fault. If he still thinks that, it's my fault. If he still thinks that, I'll talk to him again. Until your name is clear."

"It wasn't jus' /him/!" Zade snaps. His teeth are showing - his fur is actually prickled out in some places, muscles rigid underneath the slicked-down pelt. "We were in th' infirmary! There was a /Long/ /Patrol/ /officer/ there! .. an' hell even knows who else. An abbey novice accused me o' /that/ an' y' jus'.. y' jus' /stood/ there. Y' /knew/ it was wrong, y' /knew/ I'd never hurt y' or force y' but when /he/ /said/ /that/.. an' /you/ said nothin'. Y' basically jus' affirmed what he thought!" The bigger otter isn't even trying to keep calm. There'd be no point of it. "It's not somethin' y' can jus' /fix/, y' stupid girl! Once someone /thinks/ that.. once it circulates - y' can't jus' make it /go/ /away/!"

Sivaine blinks. Closes her eyes. Blinks again, and doesn't move, keeping her gaze steady. Owlish, you might say. "Major Darklett. Taye's commanding officer," she supplies in a low murmur. "Then I'll speak with him too. I'll speak to whoever I have to." She shivers, though she doesn't look away. It's cold outside.

Thank you. A Long Patrol Major. That's just brilliant. Zade continues to fume, words coming out growled. "It's not. That. Easy," he snaps at her. "Talkin' t' them doesn't make them stop thinkin' it. Talkin' t' them doesn't /change/ that y' DID NOTHIN'!" He tosses the tartan over his shoulder and grabs up his belt, just holding this. His grip digs at the leather. "Y' want me gone? Y' want t' PUNISH me? Hell even knows what I've DONE!"

Sivaine closes her eyes and turns her head a fraction away, as if expecting a blow. "No, it doesn't change it," she murmurs into the wind, starting to shiver. "Nothing changes that. Nothing fixes that. I-" She pauses, mouth a thin line. "Then what would you have me do."

"I don't know," Zade replies with a sort of gutteral growl, teeth flashing. He moves past her, aimed toward the front of the abbey building again. ".. screw it. I don't even care right now." His words are crisp and blunt.

Sivaine bows her head, letting him pass by without protest. "I did," she murmurs, the clipped end indicating the start of some longer sentence, but she doesn't continue.

Zade gets a halfdozen steps from her before his ears flick back, and he pauses. The otter is still tense, but at least .. calmer. "Y' did what?" he asks gruffly, the air in front of his muzzle fogging.

Still as a statue, Sivaine decides to risk it - the situation couldn't possibly get any worse, could it? Now that she's thought that, of course it _will._ But. "You were right. I did like you."

Zade eyes her for a moment before giving a slight gruff noise. His eyes are narrowed, ears back and expression as frustrated as ever when he responds, "I know. Past tense kinda kills it, though."

Sivaine twitches an ear. It's movement, at least, apart from her constant, insistent shivering. "Well. I do like you. It's terrifying."

Zade's eyebrows lift a little. "Yeah, well. Y' plunged a knife int' an owl's eye. Bein' terrified doesn' work as an excuse anymore." He heads toward her, reaching to tug the blankets more securely around the mouse - and then scoops his arms around her to pick her up. Just like that.

Sivaine's head drops in a bow of resignation. Not _again._ "That was different," she dully protests, trying to curl in on herself. "That was for someone _else._ That was for my sister, and.. It was different."

"Well," Zade returns with a bit of a smirk. "What 'bout somethin' for y'self, then?" And he carries her inside.