Rah and Ty on the Beach
Western Shore
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Shore ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sea of sand surrounds the magnificent mountain now to your side. The golden sand is flat and hard, easy to walk on. You stand directly between the volcano and the sea. The refreshing sea spray tickles your face as a tropical wind from off the sea whisks it in your direction. The serene roar of the blue-green waves and perhaps the call of a distant gull are typically all that can be heard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Exits: [W]estern [S]ide of the [M]ountain, [Sh]allows, [U]pshore, [D]ownshore
With:
[IC] Tyree
This afternoon, Tyree is enjoying a day at the beach. In a way that only Tyree can. He's out here to train, pushing his body as hard as he can, just to feel like he's doing something. Sometimes he almost wishes a vermin raid would come, or something, so he'd know he wasn't wasting time. Wouldn't confront himself with the fact that he really was just out here to keep from facing anyone else. He's training with sabre and spear and sling, with a ring of wooden posts representing dummies. Going through the forms, whacking them and chipping them furiously until his paws ache. Even kicking them! Breaking one when it gets hacked up enough for him to snap it. No mistaking it: Tyree is hard-core when he wants to be.
Of course Rah becomes aware of the lone hardcore hare on the beach in the ways that he has... probably someone giving him a note since you can see Tyree from the niche-watchtower. He's probably giving the guys on watch a good show. Rah comes padding over up behind Ty, quietly. Well, very quietly, compared to the fury that Ty is kicking up. Rah spreads a blanket and sits, bringing out a canteen. He waits for a lull in the fight, before he clears his throat. "Thirsty?"
Probably. The poor training posts are being slowly whittled down to nubs, his sabre shaking in his paw. He finishes it with an interesting twirl of his spear, whipping the sharp tip into one post and knocking it down with the incredible force offered by such lengthy leverage. He drops the spear and stabs the sabre into the ground, panting as he looks around at the damage done. "Not good enough," he says, spitting out grit and sand kicked into his mouth. For hating being dirty he certainly seems to have made a mess of himself. He turns to Rahier and takes a deep breath. "Yes, sah," he says calmly. "A drink would be much appreciated, sah."
Rahier crosses his legs on the blanket, and pats the spot next to him. "Wanna have a breather?" The buck holds up the canteen, unscrewing the cap. "Migh' wanna wash out th'sand before y'take a swallow," he says, with a grin. The canteen is hefted, up within Ty's grabbing range. "Killed enough targets f'today?"
"No," Tyree says, taking the canteen and remaining standing. Even though he's breathing heavily, having obviously been training hard for some timne. He quaffs the water and spits out some sand first before gulping down more. "Not enough. Never really enough, is it?" he asks. "Training's never over, sah."
Rahier leans back now that Ty has the canteen, his paws splaying out behind him as he holds himself on his elbows. "All work an' no play makes Ty a dull boy," he recites, with some creative license, apparently. "Looks like you're doin' well, tho'. We'll have t'make up s'more targets after y'whack 'em all." Grin.
"Maybe," Tyree says, drinking more water and finishing off the canteen quickly. Still panting, he picks up the spear and sling again, the heaviest weapons, and prepares to go at it again. "Just tryin' to keep useful, sah. Why? You got somethin' to suggest for me to play?" he asks over his shoulder. He doesn't want to keep going. But he does. Because he's just that stubborn a silly hare.
Rahier grins. "Well, dunno. Y'don' have t'actually /play/ butcha could come an' sit down here with me an' have a chat." He pats the blanket again, still grinning. "Since y'drank all m'canteen an' all." He leans back again, after having patted the blanket. He is a silly stubborn hare.
"I, uh..." Tyree looks around, making sure nobody else is watching. Around Rahier, he can kind of show a bit of weakness. It'll be okay. He drops spear and sling and lets his shoulders slump. And he finally drops down next to Rahier, knees curled up and paws wrapped around them, head resting on his legs. "Gosh I'm tired, sah," he admits wearily. "I hurt my paws, I think. Hitting the wood all day. Probably got splinters all over m'knuckles an' pawpads."
Thump-thump-thump, spear, sling, butt. Aw, Ty looks so tired. "Well, hey," he says, fishing a kerchief out of his back pocket. He uses it to dab Ty's forehead, then peeks at the hare's paws. "Lemme see, you silly thing. Splinters aren't no small thing."
"Guh," Tyree says, lifting his paws to show Rahier. They're mostly bruised and stinging, with welts on them for how long he's been holding on to the rough, worn wood of the spear and the sweaty bound sabre handle. And there's splinters, several of them, in his knuckles and fingers. "Punched 'em a few times," he explains. "When I got, uh... overenthusiastic." He shakes his head. "It doesn't hurt much, though. I can still hold a weapon."
Rahier frowns a little. Like a father frowning at his son. Sigh! "Well they'll get all nasty and infected," says the healer. See, he knows. Using his claw, he delicately picks out one of the larger offenders. "Should take ya up t'th' infirmary so we can have a proper go of it."
"Dah! Fff..." Tyree hisses when his paws, which are run down raw, are touched and prodded and have things pulled out of them. "I... the infirmary?" Where Lin is? She might have sharp words for him if she sees him like this. "Uh... it's really not that bad, sah," he says, trying to pull his paws away. Though, it's impossible to do anything with them in this state, so he just holds them up. "I just, uh... I had a lot on my mind today." He shakes his head. "Things build up, an'... I gotta let it out sometimes." On his own flesh, apparently.
Well he can't pull them away, Rah's not done! Gently, he brings back down Ty's right paw to rest it on his knee, leaning over it to pick splinters out of it while the fighter talks. "What didja have on y'mind?" Extracting one, he holds it up to the light before flicking it away. "Musta been somethin' big." The devastation before them shows that clearly enough.
"I..." Tyree begins, but seems hesitant. When isn't he? "I was just thinkin' about, uh... family, sah," he murmurs. "You know, I just. I haven't received a letter in some time, an'... an' all that with my father, they..." He licks his lips. "I never really got ta' get closure, sah. He went away an' came back dead." He shakes his head. "Kind of melodramatic really, sah. We all knew the risks, an' so did he. I thought I'd gotten it squared away by now."
Rahier grunts, still peering closely at Ty's paw. "M'dad died when I was away from home too," he says. "Well, reverse o' y'situation, I s'pose, but similar. Wished I woulda been there, tho'. They live pretty far from here." He grins, a bit. "I toldja y'should write 'em, din't I?" Well, he quiets some. "Whatcha wantin' t'do 'bout it?"
"I did write," Tyree says a little vindictively. "Didn't get a reply. I s'pose the messenger just got held up or somethin', but... the self-righteous part of me wants ta' believe my family's cut their ties. We were never that close." He keeps his paw out and lets Rahier examine it. Some ice and TLC for the stinging and aching, please? He stares long and hard at the welts, the bruises, the drying blood in dark fur. "I don't want to seem the emotional type, sah, an' I don't regret... much. But I rather wish he hadn't gone so soon." Is that actually a tone of softer, more introspective thoughts? In Tyree?
TLC can be provided, yup. Rah picks another slender sliver from his paw, though, flicking it away into the sand. "Always loved m'dad," he says. "But we weren't.. really close, either. Sent me away t'do m'learnin' when I was jus' a kid. Joined th'patrol, after that." He bobs his head in a little nod. "People never go when y'want 'em too. S'only normal f'you t'miss him, y'know?"
"I know, sah," Tyree says, in a very quiet, humble voice. Like he was admitting to some embarrassing mistake. He flinches when the next sliver comes out. "But I... I don't know if what I feel is proper, sah. I... it feels... like a hole in my chest when I think too much on it. It was my choice to stay behind after the funeral. I don't really know why I did it," he admits in a terse, sort of growling voice. "I could've gone home with mother and my siblings... but I stayed. I think in the end I still thought I could make him proud. He never..." He pauses for several long moments. "I like to think he was proud, an' that he loved me. Just didn't know how to show it. But in the end, now he's dead, an' the most I remember getting out of him was a pat on the head after I came home from sweatin' my tail off."
He thinks he's gotten them all out, and so releases Ty's paw. He draws up a leg, resting his chin on his knee so he can watch the fighter speak. "It can be hard f'a father t'show affection sometimes," he says. Especially a soldier. It can be hard to relate to your own kids. "I think there was a lot on that lil' head-pat, y'know?" Eyes turned up to Ty, he shrugs. "D'ya /wanna/ go see y'mom an' brothers?"
"I don't know," Tyree says with a shake of his head. "I just... don't know, sah. I haven't been back in years, not since the funeral. I don't know what to expect. My brothers will hardly know me, an' my poor Mum... well, it's probably best if she doesn't see me." He shakes his head. "I just feel so... disconnected," he says, holding up his paws again. "My father never once said anything about how much I meant to him, or, or how he was proud I'd joined up. I never..." He shakes his head, unable to really vocalize what he's feeling. "It's stupid, sah, you see? I sound like some... some needy little fool. This is pointless to talk about." He stands up quickly. "I'll get some bandages an' go back to training, sorry to take your time."
Rahier suddenly smiles. "Hey hey, it's not pointless, y'obviously care a lot 'bout it. C'mon." He pulls a little at the bottom of Ty's tunic to keep him in place. "I think you're overestimatin' things a lil'. If it bothers ya a whole lot, y'should jus' take some o' that leave time you've stored up an' go /see/ them. Y'migh' like it more than y'think." His paw slips. "Well, I'm proud o' ya f'joinin' up. S'not an easy thing t'do."
Tyree stops, and looks down at Rahier for a moment. "I..." He looks back at the sea, and seems to come to a decision. He sits back down. "No, it's not very easy," he says quietly. "Major..." He licks his lips quietly. He paws at the sand, his eyes darting about, unsure and hesitant. He fidgets several times, his ears flagging, trying to find any other noises. He goes still and stares at the setting sun for a long, long time. If anyone else hears what he's about to say he's going to punch them into next week. At last, in a voice that isn't full of the stoicism he usually packs with it, he speaks again. "I just wanted to hear him... say it," he says in a breathless, weak whisper. "You know? Just... once. 'Tyree, I love you and I'm proud of you.' So I could be sure. Instead of all the times he closed his door and assumed everythin' was fine. When I needed... I needed him," he whispers brokenly. "I needed 'im. An' he's gone. And I'll never know if I... if I was good enough. I wanted so much just to do that... it was
the only reason I joined up, to make the family proud. We're small, you know. Not many relatives. It was always all on me, the eldest, to... to do somethin' great an' keep our name in the books. But I'm not... not doin' a very good job, am I? Just whackin' sticks around on a beach. I felt I had to do... *something* great. To keep my expectations high, and... now, I. I know I'm just a stupid, normal hare whose only goal in life is to get a flippin' plaque on my door." He puts his face into his knees as he curls up. "I'm not much of anything."
Rahier hehs, watching out to see while... Tyree speaks, and lets it all out. "S'only natural f'us t'look at ourselves an' think we could jus' be somethin' more but.. ain't like th'story books where y'win all th'glory an' get th'doe." Rah had to deal with this himself. Maybe it's just how old he's become that he speaks with this hindsight. "Y'don't have t'be a great man, jus' be a man. Th'best man y'can an' no father would look down on ya an' say, I'm disappointed in m'son. You're shapin' up t'be a great patroller, Ty." Rah's little grin surfaces. "Y'have your... quirks, but I like ya. Mos' people I know like ya. Give it some time, an' you'll do some good things here. Maybe even settle down an' expand th'family." His paws settle on his knees, watching Tyree, quiet for a moment.
"Ahhh," Tyree exclaims, looking unconvinced as he glances off to the side. "No, major, I'm not. I'm not a great Patroller. I'm just... I don't know what I am," he laments, twirling a paw in the air. "I'm certainly not good enough to have gotten my father's attention. Is that so bad, major? To just want some attention every now and again? Is that so selfish?" he asks him earnestly, turning back to look at him. "I don't, I just, I... ahh... I feel like I'm a child again," he mutters darkly. "I never got that, sah," he explains clearly. "I'm not with my family, my father's dead, and I don't know what to do except come out here and hit things. I feel empty, sah." He goes silent again and looks down at the ground. "... D'you really mean it, that you like me, sah? An' others?"
Rahier's grin cracks again. "You're fresh, Ty. Give it a couple seasons. Y'know, action doesn't come 'round here all that often. Maybe y'should go out on a coupla patrols? That'll get y'fur on y'chest real quick." Then he won't have to work off his aggressions beating wooden posts. Ahem. The major bobs his head in a nod. "Wouldn't be out here flappin' m'gums atcha if I didn't like you. I think pretty much everyone finds y'endearin'." Despite his manner, clearly.
Tyree considers this for a moment, looking down at his knees. "A real patrol," he murmurs. Not just wandering around on the beach and running messages? That might be something. "I'll apply for one as soon as I can, sah," he says. He looks back and forth, and then, very gingerly, pats the major on the shoulder. "Sah... Rahier... thank you, sah. I... I haven't talked to anyone about this since the funeral. I don't feel at peace, but... it's just good to know I have someone I can trust." He clears his throat. "Er, don't tell anyone I almost had a breakdown? Please?"
"Y'could even go to th'67th in Mossflower. Get some real patrollin' done that way." Another little grin curves his smile. "Or a patrol down t'Southsward. 'M sure y'family would be real surprised t'see ten o' us with y'with 'em." The major just smiles at the pat, and nods. "Don't need t'tell me, Ty. 'M jus' glad y'got it out in th'open."
Groups:
