Growing Pains [Flashback]

[Zeal Aldercraft]

59th of Summer, 511 A.V. The warm sun beat at Zeal's back, as he meticulously went around the grassy enclosure checking that each of his deerstalkers had enough food and water for the night. He'd never part with them, he thought, as beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He was hot and the day had been a long one, but the sun was finally beginning to bleed out and the smell of rain on the wind was a welcome one. He rolled up the sleeves of his hand-knotted shirt, exposing the dark lines of the windmark that spilled over his forearm, and topped off the last feed bowl. When he was satisfied, he stood back and took stock of his small pack. There were only two fawns left, the rest were pure white. All four generations mingled in the pen; he'd been raising them since he was twelve. Each of them was well fed, had a healthy coat and clear eyes. They were naturally protective and would make good guard dogs, bringing him a decent trade if he could ever part with them. But he couldn't. He wouldn't even think about it. He kicked the latch closed in a huff and turned his back on the kennel. His father couldn't force him to sell the dogs. He'd find another way to pay his gambling debt and if it meant so much to Pivl that he learned his lesson...well, he wasn't going to get it easily from Zeal. Besides, the dogs would be worth even more mizas and bigger trades down the road, he'd be quick to remind his father, when he came out to the pen. Zeal had already bred the kinks out of their hips. Only some of the first two generations walked with a limp. By the third, he'd mastered coat color. It wouldn't be long before he had their temperaments under his belt. His father would have to wait to sell them and find another way for him to pay the mizas he owed. It wasn't long after he was done that his father came strutting down the rocky path, his shoulders squared. Zeal's body tensed. He could be as stubborn as his father could and he was prepared to be. Pivl’s dust-coated hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck and tied off with a leather cord. His blood-stained pants screamed bad omen to Zeal. If his father was dealing with a patient in bad shape, he was going to be irritable and not up for negotiating. He thought frantically, trying to come up with a way to stall the moment, to put it off until another day, but his father seemed to have cleared the distance between them in a heartbeat. Suddenly he was there, eclipsed by his son's shadow, but the hard line in his jaw said he didn't care about the size difference. Zeal puffed out his chest, packing all of his pride into the gesture. His father was unaffected. The line of his body remained rigid, like his spine was carved out of stone. Pushing away a strand of wheat color hair a shade lighter than Zeal's, his father's frustration hit its breaking point. "Don't look at me and think I'm going to fix this for you because you huff hot air in my face. This is your fault. Your problem. I gave you a solution you didn't like, but you gave me a problem I liked even less." Zeal's hand shot up. "Wait a minute, Father, you're the one with the big pavilion and the unending line of patients. You can afford to help me, but you won't. Not even if it's to help yourself." He gestured to the lively group of dogs behind him. "Those dogs are bred for protection, to keep our families safe as we travel. There's hardly anyone one in Endrykas breeding them, which means even more leverage in our barganing and trading with the other pavilions. This isn't just a hobby, it's a business." Pivl snorted. "A business that you ran into the ground before you got it up and running." He walked over to the pen, unlatched the gate and swung it open, then went inside to stir up the dogs, herding them toward the exit. He leapt towards the gate, wondering how his father could be so pig-headed. "What are you doing? Don't let them out!" "This is what you did with the money you gambled away. You should have opened the gate yourself and let all your stock run free. It would have been easier for me."

[Zeal Aldercraft]

The dogs spilled out of the enclosure and milled around him looking lost. Zeal burst out laughing. His father had no idea how good his dogs really were. A shadow eclipsed Pivl's weathered face. “You think this is funny?” He lowered his voice and Zeal heard the sadness in it. “You’re the only one of my children who doesn’t take this family seriously. You don’t respect me as Ankal. You make your mother worry so much she cries into her soup. So soft a woman should never cry. How do you sleep at night? It must be why you’re always drinking yourself into a stupor.” His stomach churned. As much as he knew his father was right, he didn’t always give him the respect he should give his Ankal, he felt sick at the idea of hurting his mother who’d given him every kindness in the world. Still, it was his life and he was young. His siblings had weak personalities. They were easily led and Zeal wouldn’t be. He drew an imaginary line in the rocky earth. “I’ll find a way to pay you back that doesn’t involve my dogs.” He grabbed the scruff of the one closest to him, Vanya. She was always lingering by his side, skittish of strangers, protective of him. Her thickly muscled body was like a wall between his father and himself. The lines etched into his father’s face seemed to deepen. “There’s only one way to make this right, Zeal. Give up the drinking and the games and come work for me, the way you should be doing. Stop running from the spirit healer you are.” Zeal choked on the words. “I may be a healer, but I heal animals and people who’ve got scrapes and burns. That’s all I’m ever going to do. When are you going to figure that out?” Spirit healer wasn’t the life for him; chasing ghosts through the Sea of Grass, risking his life against demons? No thanks. He’d told that to his father countless times, over patients and in front of the fire, that he would never do it. He was blind to how lucky he was that Zeal helped him with the healing at all because there was a buzz around the healing tent that made his teeth ache. He was as sick of the conversation about spirit healing, as he was about the ones about his deerstalkers. “I’m sad to see you got your stubbornness from me, as well as my charm.” There was a hint of warmth, despite his anger as he approached Zeal. That was the thing about his father that made him the craziest. He crossed his arms over his chest as his father spoke. “Since you have yet to see the light about anything that you’re doing, I’m going back to my patients.” His face took on a faraway look and Zeal could tell he was thinking about one of them. His father was a good healer. He always thought about his patients, but he should have thought more about his son. “That’s it?” “That’s it.” “What does that mean? You’re letting me keep the dogs?” “It means I’m done wasting energy that could be saving lives.” Pivl turned on his booted heal and walked away. Zeal watched him until his slight frame disappeared into the sea of pale tents. The rain began to trickle down. He should have felt like he’d won. His father had left, his dogs were still here, but as he was putting them back into the pen, the sickening feeling in his stomach had him thinking his father might be the one celebrating.

[Lariat]

Zeal Aldercraft

Experience:

Observation: 1 xp
Socializing: 1 xp

Lores:

Third generation deerstalkers don't run away immediately.

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