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Intro Type Thingie!
"You take it back or I'll do you even worse!"
The shout was almost typical, had been heard by many other riders, in many other camps, yet somehow to the pair scrambling along the muddy patches of grass where a bit of snow had melted, this was the only time that the moment had truly mattered. Here, not one full day away from their two small villages, two boys were biting, scrambling, yanking at each other's braids, whatever it would take to prove the other wrong.
"Take it back." The smaller of the boys repeated, spitting blood and half a tooth out of the corner of his mouth, before he slammed a fist into the side of his larger opponent's face. "I've had the best of you, I've proven it and you'll keep silence from now on."
"How's hitting me going to change what I know about where you're from?" the second boy demanded, as he struggled to throw off his oponent. It ought to have been simple enough, by the sheer matter of weight, but somehow the boy straddling him held fast, particularly after he'd finally gained the upper ground, despite that his right eye would be too swelled to use tommorow. Then again, when you were small and quite quick tempered, you learned the tricks to fighting early on.
"So maybe hitting you won't do a thing." Daegmund agreed, still grappling for position as it became clear that the large boy was slowly struggling free despite his efforts to the contrary. "But I think this..." Swiftly before there was so much as a chance to move, Name's badly scrapped fingers were around the other's nose and twisting hard, until he heard an all familar snap and warm blood gushed over his fingers. "Going to keep it up?" he taunted, pushing himself off the ground slowly. "Or do you want to shut your trap?" His tones were gleeful as he rose in something close to triumph, though why none of the the boys from his village were cheering was a mystery to Daegmund.
Had he not proven they were not so backwards as was often claimed? Had he not proved once again, as he'd proved to his fellows there was nothing a girl could not do well as a boy?
Had...Why was someone pulling her away, despite that she was kicking her hardest at this person's boots though her arms were pinned back...How...
"How old would you be,Daegmund lad?" It was Elfstan then, who had dragged her away and was now pushing her into his tent, then rooting in a small pouch for supplies. He'd ridden near their group this morning and so far had easily seemed fooled. Now that he was asking such things though, it was time Devona put her skills at lying to the test. "Thirteen." she answered swiftly, knowing as a boy she could not be sixteen as she truly was. This age at least bought her some time in which she'd need not worry about such small things as changing her voice for a small time yet. "And what of that?" she couldn't help demanding as was her usual wont. "I may be smaller than the others, but you didn't leave me back there did you? When did age account for..."
"You'll want to settle down before you're fourteen, else I think you won't see that." Elfstan's tone were casual enough for giving out a warning, though the wet cloth he pressed to her face stung with whatever mixture he'd put on it. She half wanted to hiss at this, but Devona's pride allowed to her to do no such thing as male or female, so she settled for a glower instead.
"I'll see it when I've done them all for calling me the things they dared!" she challenged, glaring hotly at the rider as he took the cloth away and shook his head. "I do not bluff if that is what you think," She pressed on, anger making her still bolder than she'd been before, now that the blood was washed away and gradually stopping still, despite that some still came out of her mouth with every word.
"No thanks for any of this, boy?" Elfstan asked her, snorting as he offered a second cloth. "Put that one in your mouth and hold it there until your bleeding's stopped." he ordered. "Maybe it'll quiet your tongue enough to keep you out of things till dinner, though I've my doubts so far as that goes. I think that Oeric got the better end of it for cleaning up your friend." he added, brushing his cloth this time against some mud caked still on Devona's forehead before nodding that she may as well leave. "And next time boy," he added, right before she slipped outside, "You wait and tell your kinsman what they have to say for his own village. Elfhelm will set them right. It's in your nose." he added, and Devona supposed she must have looked surprised. "Another of his sons, I think or..."
"Sister Son and what is that to..." Devona broke off midway into that challenge. After all, the man was being nice enough, but dragging Uncle into it made things difficult all over again. He'd not give her away, she didn't think. Lady Eowyn's example in the war, and all his talk of women in the city by the sea called Dol Amroth would mean she'd have a chance, but even so, she hoped that when she saw Elfhelm again, he'd let all recognition slip until they were alone. "I'll go now." she said instead, giving Elfstan a firm nod as she turned back in the direction they had come.
"You watch yourself then, Daegmund. Don't let your fire burn out too quickly." Elfstan cautioned, though of course, she barely heard him. The flame of youth stretched out before her, and there were her fellows, boys who knew her secret and agreed to keep it, greeting her with questions, praise and points she'd better mind the next time she was in a fight. If it blazed perhaps too brightly, were there any who could blame her?
The shout was almost typical, had been heard by many other riders, in many other camps, yet somehow to the pair scrambling along the muddy patches of grass where a bit of snow had melted, this was the only time that the moment had truly mattered. Here, not one full day away from their two small villages, two boys were biting, scrambling, yanking at each other's braids, whatever it would take to prove the other wrong.
"Take it back." The smaller of the boys repeated, spitting blood and half a tooth out of the corner of his mouth, before he slammed a fist into the side of his larger opponent's face. "I've had the best of you, I've proven it and you'll keep silence from now on."
"How's hitting me going to change what I know about where you're from?" the second boy demanded, as he struggled to throw off his oponent. It ought to have been simple enough, by the sheer matter of weight, but somehow the boy straddling him held fast, particularly after he'd finally gained the upper ground, despite that his right eye would be too swelled to use tommorow. Then again, when you were small and quite quick tempered, you learned the tricks to fighting early on.
"So maybe hitting you won't do a thing." Daegmund agreed, still grappling for position as it became clear that the large boy was slowly struggling free despite his efforts to the contrary. "But I think this..." Swiftly before there was so much as a chance to move, Name's badly scrapped fingers were around the other's nose and twisting hard, until he heard an all familar snap and warm blood gushed over his fingers. "Going to keep it up?" he taunted, pushing himself off the ground slowly. "Or do you want to shut your trap?" His tones were gleeful as he rose in something close to triumph, though why none of the the boys from his village were cheering was a mystery to Daegmund.
Had he not proven they were not so backwards as was often claimed? Had he not proved once again, as he'd proved to his fellows there was nothing a girl could not do well as a boy?
Had...Why was someone pulling her away, despite that she was kicking her hardest at this person's boots though her arms were pinned back...How...
"How old would you be,Daegmund lad?" It was Elfstan then, who had dragged her away and was now pushing her into his tent, then rooting in a small pouch for supplies. He'd ridden near their group this morning and so far had easily seemed fooled. Now that he was asking such things though, it was time Devona put her skills at lying to the test. "Thirteen." she answered swiftly, knowing as a boy she could not be sixteen as she truly was. This age at least bought her some time in which she'd need not worry about such small things as changing her voice for a small time yet. "And what of that?" she couldn't help demanding as was her usual wont. "I may be smaller than the others, but you didn't leave me back there did you? When did age account for..."
"You'll want to settle down before you're fourteen, else I think you won't see that." Elfstan's tone were casual enough for giving out a warning, though the wet cloth he pressed to her face stung with whatever mixture he'd put on it. She half wanted to hiss at this, but Devona's pride allowed to her to do no such thing as male or female, so she settled for a glower instead.
"I'll see it when I've done them all for calling me the things they dared!" she challenged, glaring hotly at the rider as he took the cloth away and shook his head. "I do not bluff if that is what you think," She pressed on, anger making her still bolder than she'd been before, now that the blood was washed away and gradually stopping still, despite that some still came out of her mouth with every word.
"No thanks for any of this, boy?" Elfstan asked her, snorting as he offered a second cloth. "Put that one in your mouth and hold it there until your bleeding's stopped." he ordered. "Maybe it'll quiet your tongue enough to keep you out of things till dinner, though I've my doubts so far as that goes. I think that Oeric got the better end of it for cleaning up your friend." he added, brushing his cloth this time against some mud caked still on Devona's forehead before nodding that she may as well leave. "And next time boy," he added, right before she slipped outside, "You wait and tell your kinsman what they have to say for his own village. Elfhelm will set them right. It's in your nose." he added, and Devona supposed she must have looked surprised. "Another of his sons, I think or..."
"Sister Son and what is that to..." Devona broke off midway into that challenge. After all, the man was being nice enough, but dragging Uncle into it made things difficult all over again. He'd not give her away, she didn't think. Lady Eowyn's example in the war, and all his talk of women in the city by the sea called Dol Amroth would mean she'd have a chance, but even so, she hoped that when she saw Elfhelm again, he'd let all recognition slip until they were alone. "I'll go now." she said instead, giving Elfstan a firm nod as she turned back in the direction they had come.
"You watch yourself then, Daegmund. Don't let your fire burn out too quickly." Elfstan cautioned, though of course, she barely heard him. The flame of youth stretched out before her, and there were her fellows, boys who knew her secret and agreed to keep it, greeting her with questions, praise and points she'd better mind the next time she was in a fight. If it blazed perhaps too brightly, were there any who could blame her?