Watching and Whittling Who: Kierban and Raven When: Anesus 2, around 10:30 AM Where: The main hall
Another day, another chance to meet more of the compound's newest residents. Kierban had been up all of the previous night, anxiously flitting about all three levels of the building, subconsciously memorizing each new face he spotted but consciously looking for people in obvious need of aid. Of course all the new arrivals had been lost and drifting, but some rose to the occasion and handled themselves just fine, whereas others looked obviously aimless and unhappy. It was these latter examples to which he had cautiously allowed himself to be drawn, to render assistance if they would allow it.
It was the way of many of the older residents to allow the new arrivals to fumble around and figure things out on their own, whether because they had also had to fumble or because they just wanted to keep out of the way of the flood of new bodies, but Kierban simply had to be out among them. He had to be there to help if anyone needed it. He couldn't stand to do otherwise. And maybe, just maybe, this would be the time he found people who he could fit among.
But, unsurprisingly, it hadn't been the case. Oh, he'd found and assisted a small human girl in finding a room upstairs, and a pair of Lykos had realized he knew what he was doing (even if he had a timid way of going about it) and asserted their dominance to receive guidance to open rooms in the basement, and he'd fielded numerous questions from other who recognized that he was an older inhabitant, but there had been no bonding, no clicks, no establishments of kinship. As expected, though he'd keep trying, keep hoping.
He gotten to bed a few hours before dawn and slept through the morning, as was his usual, then tackled the day with the same intent, as well as chores--both his duties and those that weren't, but that looked like they needed addressing anyway. And he looked for people in need and stayed where he could easily be noticed or found. Same old, same old. Now here it was, the morning of the second day of the year, another half-past come and gone, and the compound was covered with fliers. He'd have to attend the meeting they advertised. It'd be a chance to see all or most (hopefully) of the newcomers all at once...and maybe to be seen as well.
That meeting, however, was still several hours off. For now it was only late in the morning and Kierban sat in the main hall, on the end of a bench nearest the fireplace, hunched over and leaning on his knees. Given his nearness to the fire and all the odd layers of clothes he wore, plus the black scarf wrapped tight around his neck, he probably looked as if he were freezing. In his hands he had a whittling knife and a small chunk of wood, while tiny curled shavings littered the floor between his feet.
He sat with the table to his back and the fireplace to his side, so the firelight illuminated his work while he could still turn his head and survey the smattering of other souls in the main hall. Their faces were all memorized, though he didn't know all their names. Aside from those who were entirely new, he'd watched them for some two years now, ever ready, never intruding...but always looking for a place where he might finally fit in.
Raven had gone hunting just after dawn, catching herself a squirrel and cleaning it's bones. It was a little hunt, true, but after yesterday's rabbit she didn't need much. With one skin set out to dry, Raven played with the squirrel's tail, wondering just what she could make of it. If she collected enough, it would make a nice little trim to the clothes she wore. The bones she carried with her in a little pouch. She'd find a use for them; all she needed was a little time to sit and work on them.
The moment she entered the main hall she drew attention, her scent strong of blood and sweat. At mid-morning, there were few Vrykolas around to bother, but those few foolish enough to try to stay out during the day bared their teeth in response. It was not enough to draw out the bloodlust, as it was dry, rubbed into dirt, but they glared regardless. Raven smirked faintly in response, caring little about what others thought. Those of her own kind were used to such scents.
Sprawling out by the fireside, Raven looked up at the boy beside her, sitting up on the bench. Scent dictated that he was one of her kind, busy working at a carving, the careful cuts of a knife. Raven drew a small bone out of her pouch and began to do the same, her knife in hand. "What's with the writing on the walls?" she asked, only now aware of the fliers that seemed to be everywhere. Her ability to read was not all that great, but she could manage, given the time. Now, though, she was being lazy, hoping he might help her out if he already knew.
He saw the girl coming well before she arrived. Though he hadn't been born with them, he had the motion-sensitive eyes of a Lykos now, and combined with the fact that he was already highly attentive to what was happening in the main hall, he couldn't have missed her. The scarceness of her clothes made him self-conscious of his own multiple layers of human garb, and he briefly paused his whittling to tug his scarf tighter, even though sight and the powerful scent of the hunt upon her made her species blatant. Lykos. Like him, but not like him, but who was?
Kierban watched her sprawl, equal parts attentive and wary and nervous and eager, ducking his head submissively to make it clear he knew his place as she looked up at him. She was new, he knew that much, but still her confidence radiated powerfully in the way she moved and carried herself. She was not in any obvious need of help, but she had drawn near on her own and looked at him, but perhaps all she wanted was to sit by the fireplace as well....
Her question was as welcome as her voice was intimidating in its assurance. She wouldn't even need to try to walk all over him, female or not.
"They're to t-tell about the meeting tonight, here in the hall, j-just after s-sundown," he answered immediately and obediently, his own voice soft around his meek stuttering. He'd been taught to read as a child (a human child) and had never forgotten. He didn't forget anything. Not even if he wanted to. "Newcomers are enc-c-couraged to attend. You'll be told about how things w-work around the compound."
Raven looked at him as he spoke, her eyes glued to his figure and face. She noticed now the abundance of clothes, clothes rather than skins, and the position of his body, the curl of his back. He was a submissive if she'd ever seen one, the sort that would likely do whatever she asked as soon as she asked it. At least, that's what his body said, though odd that he'd taken to human garb. Maybe he'd been there longer, in the compound, and had done it to fit in. She could never quite tell. Everyone she'd met had been so very different.
"Who'll do the telling?" she asked, curious to hear if these would be rules or guidelines and how they would be enforced. "And why do you talk like that?" Far as she could tell, she'd done nothing to threaten him and wouldn't do so, if he knew his place. And yet he seemed scared out of principle? Raven knew she hadn't been there long enough to earn herself a reputation, unless Paziter was running his mouth at everyone he could find. If that was the case, she had a Vrykola to hunt down pronto.
Outside of frightening him, there was nothing like pointing Kierban's stutter out to make it worse. Even if it was only behavioral, he couldn't unlearn it. There were more than a few other compound residents who couldn't even stand to listen to him without getting irritated and frustrated by the way he spoke. It was bad enough when Kierban could tell his speech bothered others without them saying anything. Having it blatantly pointed out to him was humiliating.
"I-I-I'm s-sorry, I c-can't help it," he murmured, cheeks flushed as he dropped his grey eyes timidly from the girl's piercing stare. But he still answered her other question, expanding on his answer for her benefit as a newcomer. "And, um...T-Tayne P-P-Peregrine will head the m-meeting. He's a h-human and p-possibly the next head of c-c-compound. He'll ex-p-plain the c-compound rules and g-guidelines, and d-divide up ch-chores."
Raven sighed heavily, only realizing what she'd done after she'd done it. Now he was even harder to understand, a fact which frustrated her and saddened her slightly. There were times she wanted to be feared, and there were times when she wondered if it had anything to do with her at all. In this case, Raven decided it was more him than her, something that might not be righted, but could possibly be adjusted. She suspected she could have used a little more tact.
"Look at me when you talk to me," she said softly, her voice even, not condemning and not commanding, but maybe requesting, if Raven could be said to do so on occasion. "A human as head? Who decides? Can he be challenged?" The idea of taking orders from a human, especially one not in her pack, was laughable-- as was the idea that a human could be in her pack in the first place. Already she was wondering what alpha had not stepped up to his rightful place.
Contrary to Raven's intent, her soft and even tone made Kierban's stomach clench and made him want to fall on the floor with belly and throat displayed. He winced and looked up obediently, half-expecting to be cuffed for whatever unknown offense he had made. That she only asked something more and did not raise a hand against him was a relief, but also a little confusing.
"W-well he's not head yet," he admitted sheepishly, as he was always afraid when he had to correct someone, while warily keeping his eyes on her as asked. "Th-there's also J-Joliane, another h-human, and Gochin of the N-Nuzar tribe. Those three were the t-top picks for new head of c-compound."
Kierban paused a breath, swallowing as if that would carry away the worst of his stutter. His knife and tiny block of wood dangled, half-forgotten, from his hands. "I think T-T-Torehl, the head from l-last year, h-had his eyes on them. I d-don't know if Tayne leading the m-m-meeting means he was actually p-picked. It might just be a t-test to see how well he d-does," he offered, hoping to appease her. He was Lykos-raised as much as he was human-raised, and her questions made it obvious she did not approve of what he had just told her regarding Tayne.
If Kierban had actually fallen on the floor and exposed his belly, Raven would have walked away in disgust. As much as she liked to dominate, she didn't know how to handle such submissiveness in a male. It confused her, so different as it was from what a male should be, and she felt a bit like she should put them in their place. Submissive or not, they should at least try to show strength.
"Gochin," she said, nodding to herself. "Hopefully he'll step up. I don't know much about the Nuzar tribe." In fact, she preferred to keep within her own, though she knew that was highly subject to change. She was at a point where a Lykos was a Lykos and that was better than a Human or Vrykola by far, regardless of tribe. "I guess I should attend, as a newcomer, but it'll be interesting to see how Tayne does, if it's a test." By the way he talked, she suspected that was the case. Anyone being thrown in front of that crowd deserved some kind of credit, depending on how they handled it.
"I'm Raven," she said, sitting up with a half smile, expecting his name in return. "What are you working on?" she asked, nodding towards his knife and the piece of forgotten wood.
Kierban had absolutely no idea if Tayne was really being tested or not. Speaking in hypotheses was not something he was comfortable doing, not when his mind was an ironclad repository for facts, but he’d been desperate to avert a rise in Raven’s temper.
He just hoped she wouldn’t be more mad and take it out on him if the meeting tonight proved him wrong.
“M-my name’s Kierban,” he answered in turn, relieved she didn’t seek a swap of tribal names as well. The name drawn for his move to the compound might have been ‘Kierban Parnsehi’, but he still remembered being ‘Kierban Isaac Surazal’, and did not know which name was truly his anymore. It was safer to just be Kierban, lest tribal, human surname, or both be lies.
At Raven’s reminder, Kierban looked down at his hands. “Oh, um…j-just clothespins, for hanging laundry.” He could whittle very well, as he had been taught and put to use by his pack, but not artistically. Creative talent wasn’t something he could memorize. “The up-s-stairs closet always n-needs more. It’s a ch-chore I do for the c-compound.” One of many self-assigned, rather than actually requested of him.
He then looked to the bone Raven was carving, herself. “H-how about you?” he asked politely.
Raven didn't understand the whole surname issue and only gave her tribal name when something was asked in addition to what she'd given. As far as she was concerned, she was just Raven and why the rest of that mattered, she didn't quite know. It was nice to know he was just Kierban. It made things simple.
"They have you making clothespins?" she asked, raising a brow. That was a chore that she would refuse if assigned, partially due to the fact that she didn't have enough clothes to go hanging up in the first place. She understood the desire to cover oneself, but the Humans and Vrykolas seemed far too caught up in appearance as far as clothes went. Her wardrobe was empty, save a few furs she'd brought with her. If she needed more than that, she'd figure it out when the time came.
With a glance down at her own work, Raven smiled, lightly sliding the knife against the bone before looking up at him. "Nothing useful," she answered. "I carve the little bones into beads. Squirrel bones aren't very strong, so they can't be used for much more than decoration."
Kierban decided not to enlighten Raven that he whittled clothespins by choice—her disdain was heavy enough already. It seemed quite clear to the older Lykos that, if a place for him to fit in even existed, it would not involve this narrow-minded female. Not unless the compound served its purpose and mellowed her out as the weeks and months and years went by. He wouldn’t wait around on it, though.
As long as she was going to sit near him and make conversation, though, he would do his best to be useful and informative. “If you m-make b-beads a lot, you m-might be able to use them in t-trade around the compound,” he suggested, fiddling idly with his wood-block and knife, but keeping his eyes on Raven as he’d been instructed. “N-not everyone has a t-talent for making p-pretty things. I sh-sure don’t.”
Really, the closest he ever came to doing anything artistic was replacing pieces on the lounge’s chessboard when they got damaged, lost, or removed by pranksters or by people who just wanted to be a nuisance—but it didn’t count as art when all he was doing was working off a memorized pattern for the simple pieces.
His answer earned a smile, the girlish part of Raven pleased. Occasionally she enjoyed being a female, and those rare occasions usually involved beads or feathers and looking the part. While she didn't understand the Vrykola's need for layers of clothing, she did appreciate the aesthetics of the combination. It was the colors that attracted her, like rare jewels. While beads were only a small part of that, it was what she could make on her own, with what she had.
"Depends on what I could trade them for," she said thoughtfully. "If it was something I can't make, that would be nice..." Her mind drifted off for a moment, wondering what that might be. The Humans possessed a number of talents to be jealous of, so she was certain she could think of something in return. "I can teach you, if you want," Raven said, looking up at him. Maybe it was a strange offer, but he seemed nice enough, if he was interested.
Perhaps it wasn’t necessarily a strange offer, but it still caught Kierban by surprise. In the moment that Raven’s attention wandered, he was so busy being relieved he’d finally said something to please her that when she spoke again, he hadn’t expected the direction her dialogue would turn.
“T-teach me?” he blinked. He was no stranger to being offering things out of pity, by those who were kind and felt sorry for misfits like him, but Raven did not seem the sort—not to mention being offered to be taught something was a far cry from being given hand-me-down clothes or a new whittling knife.
“I’m n-not sure I’d be very g-good at it,” he temporized. “I’ve n-never carved anything except t-tools and things that g-get used up in work. B-but if you still w-want to show me how you d-do it, I’m a v-very quick learner.” That, at least, he knew for certain.
There was a part of Raven that deeply wanted to throttle the boy. She'd offered, hadn't she? Why did he feel the need to question it. He seemed almost desperate, but Raven couldn't figure out why for. Desperation had to have an objective, didn't it? Though if that was Kierban's issue, then Raven didn't understand it.
"If you can carve tools, you can carve beads," Raven said, hopping up off the floor to go and sit beside him. She pulled another little bone out of the pouch tied about her waist and showed it to him, her knife in her other hand. "I like working with the little bones, but you could use wood, or anything else that would take to a knife. I don't advise using stone, unless you don't mind wearing down your blades."
With her hands, she broke a bone in half at the weakest point, then used her knife to start whittling. "If I want a round bead, I try to peal it like an orange," she explained. "The key is to get as smooth and even a finish as possible. When you're done, you can use a little oil to polish it up. Give it some shine. Works on bone and wood, but if you're using something else, try it out on a broken piece first." Raven glanced up at him to make sure he was listening, then dug into her pouch for a little tiny blade, far more like a sharp pick. "When you're done, you have to drill a hole in it, with something like this. You don't want to rush it. Take your time, or you'll break the bead."
Somehow Kierban managed not to flinch when Raven hopped up beside him. Though they’d only been conversing a few minutes, and she was both younger and shorter than he, she already had him distinctly intimidated. Once this little meeting had worn itself out to its natural end, he would likely do his best to stay out of her way in the future.
Unless, of course, he ever saw her in obvious need of assistance. He couldn’t resist a person in need unless they had made it abundantly clear that the only thing they were towards him was hostile…although sometimes he might try, even then. The nightly challenges sometimes required it. Such was the point of the compound, after all.
But he leaned in attentively as Raven began her demonstration, absorbing every word and stroke of her knife. It was definitely a process he could duplicate if all he needed—for whatever reason—were simple round beads. If he ever needed beads of intricate decoration, however, well he’d just be out of luck. Unless someone ever taught him that as well, of course. He could not create—only imitate.
“I see,” he told her with a diffident nod, after she had displayed the little pick. “Then…what’s the b-best way to s-string them when you’re d-done with that?”
If Raven had known how much she intimidated Kierban, she would have laughed, for she wasn't even trying. It was one of those times when she was just being herself, and that state happened to make him uneasy. This was a simple task demonstration, something she'd learned at a fairly young age, and she didn't mind sharing it because she knew she would always be better at it than him. It wasn't doubt in his abilities, but over confidence in her own.
"I usually thread them on with a tiny rod and a thin band of leather. String works, if you can find it. And needles. I'm sure there are some around here who would trade if you don't have them. It's one thing the humans are decent at making, but find out what metal the needle's made of before trading for it," she said, hoping he remembered the warning. She wasn't entirely sure what he was allergic to, but he would know, and hopefully would identify the issue before it became one.
"You can carve little designs on the beads. Or paint them. Depends on what you're aiming for," Raven said with a small smile, then slid off the bench. While he seemed like a nice guy, she had already determined that he really wasn't the sort she wanted to hang out for long periods of time. Nervous energy seemed to come off him in waves and she'd rather be elsewhere. Still, it had been good to meet him. He could be good for something, eventually, or if she found she ever needed clothespins. "I'm gonna wander for a bit. Get some fresh air. See you later, Kierban."
Kierban nodded in understanding at her warning. It was only common sense, after all. No Lykos ever forgot to be on the watch for the metal they were allergic to—or at least, they never forgot more than once. Thankfully he didn’t run into silver too much unless someone wore it as jewelry or broke a mirror. That latter one had happened once, and not by accident. Hadn’t been a good day, that.
When Raven stood to depart, Kierban couldn’t say he was surprised, but he was admittedly relieved. “Th-thanks for the l-lesson,” he told her with another polite nod, then followed up with his ever-present offer. “Let m-me know if th-there’s ever anything I c-can do for y-you.”
"Of course," she said, smirking a little to herself once her back was turned to him and she began to wander off. That had been the point, hadn't it? It was always good to know a few people who'd offer to help out, either out of loyalty or out of fear. She could easily guess which one Kierban was leaning towards, and she hadn't even had to work for it. It didn't bother her, though. Raven had never cared too much for the opinions of those below her.