Crickets and grasshoppers chimed melodies from the long grass, swaying in the breeze sweeping up from the coast of Baroque Bay. The bug song harmonized with the rhythm of the waves against the shoreline a short walk away. It was music Anja was familiar with. When the Drykas was home, he spent a lot of time here, out among the remnants of nature and grazing livestock. The song of nature was soothing to him, even if he couldn't understand what it was trying to say. Anja was still annoyed at the goats, of course, but he could feel his nerves unwind slightly as the song surrounded him. This area was a sanctuary for him, and frustration didn't serve any one. He took a few slow, deep breaths, and inhaled the crisp scent of cut grass then vaulted over the fence and approached the goats.
They were grazing in the longer grass past the edge of the fence, and looked up at Anja as the Drykas approached and bounced over towards him happily. One of the females let out a friendly bleat and trotted over to rub her horns against Anja's leg. "What exactly are you doing over here?" Anja asked in his very best disappointed-but-not-angry father tone. The goats made no attempt to acknowledge his words, simply continuing with their playful bouncing and cavorting. Anja knew from experience that the goats would quite happily be lifted up and deposited back on the other side of the fence, but by the time Anja had picked up a second goat, the first would be back grazing on the wrong side of the fence. It was a little bit like herding big cats with more destructive capabilities. Just as Anja was debating how to go about the monumental task at hand, Kelski walked out onto the deck and called down to him.
Anja looked up at her and felt a small, unpleasant shock at the worry in her gray eyes and the way her voice quivered with uncertainty. What was wrong? Had something happened? The anxiety felt somehow antithetical to Kelski, and Anja's stomach did a sharp flip. Among the sudden worry he had for his friend, a kind of gnawing realization dawned on him. Of course, he told himself, Kelski was not some kind of perfect, always confident, flawless creature. Anja had nothing but respect for her, but in that respect he had to sharply remind himself that romanticizing her was foolish and unfair. Had he done that? Seen only her positive traits? Aside from when he had helped protect her from that ghost and she had been afraid, most of what Anja had seen of Kelski had been remarkable. Fierce, confident, utterly competent. She was a person who Anja felt secure being near, as if no problem was too large for her to handle.
But people weren't one dimensional. They had flaws, regrets, insecurities. Gods knew Anja certainly did. If Anja was only seeing Kelski's strengths, then what had he missed? In some ways, flaws could help define a person, make them tangible and real. If he had missed those things, then how could he hope to form a real friendship with her? Locked in those anxiety-ridden eyes, Anja reassessed.
"Yes, please. I would be very grateful for your help." Anja's voice was warm and reassuring and his gaze was gentle. The tone of voice was the one he used when comforting people, a task that came quite frequently in his line of work, whether when caring for the dead or the grieving. "We don't have anything like goats in Endrykas. Or...well maybe some of the other Pavilions did, but my family didn't." If Kelski came down from the deck and approached him he would follow her with his eyes as he continued talking. "We had dogs, and Striders of course. And Zibri. They're um...sort of like cows I suppose. Have I ever mentioned that my son loved dogs? Perhaps that's why I got so attached to the twins and their mother."
Anja pulled some grass tufts out of the ground and waved them tantalizingly over the side of the fence. The goats simply cocked their heads at him. Anja sighed. "They're very clever, aren't they?" Anja asked. "Much smarter than the Zibri. Not as smart as Striders of course, but you don't try to get Striders to do anything." Maisa snorted in agreement from where her head was buried in the grass. Anja dropped his bundle of grass behind the fence and approached one of the goats, gently holding out his hand to sniff. The female snorted the grass smell from his palm and nibbled at his fingers. "I do like them," Anja said. "They're hardy animals. And that cleverness, that will serve you well in the Wildlands. Nothing better than an animal that can take care of itself. I just wish I had a better idea on how to work with them."
Anja stole a glance at Kelski to study her expression, searching for a sign of her anxiety having relaxed. He wasn't sure what had her worried, but he had a sinking feeling he might be involved somehow. If it was his fault, then it was his responsibility to fix the problem. If it wasn't then well...Kelski was still his friend. He would do what he could to help. "Are you well?" he asked finally. "You seemed worried, just now."
They were grazing in the longer grass past the edge of the fence, and looked up at Anja as the Drykas approached and bounced over towards him happily. One of the females let out a friendly bleat and trotted over to rub her horns against Anja's leg. "What exactly are you doing over here?" Anja asked in his very best disappointed-but-not-angry father tone. The goats made no attempt to acknowledge his words, simply continuing with their playful bouncing and cavorting. Anja knew from experience that the goats would quite happily be lifted up and deposited back on the other side of the fence, but by the time Anja had picked up a second goat, the first would be back grazing on the wrong side of the fence. It was a little bit like herding big cats with more destructive capabilities. Just as Anja was debating how to go about the monumental task at hand, Kelski walked out onto the deck and called down to him.
Anja looked up at her and felt a small, unpleasant shock at the worry in her gray eyes and the way her voice quivered with uncertainty. What was wrong? Had something happened? The anxiety felt somehow antithetical to Kelski, and Anja's stomach did a sharp flip. Among the sudden worry he had for his friend, a kind of gnawing realization dawned on him. Of course, he told himself, Kelski was not some kind of perfect, always confident, flawless creature. Anja had nothing but respect for her, but in that respect he had to sharply remind himself that romanticizing her was foolish and unfair. Had he done that? Seen only her positive traits? Aside from when he had helped protect her from that ghost and she had been afraid, most of what Anja had seen of Kelski had been remarkable. Fierce, confident, utterly competent. She was a person who Anja felt secure being near, as if no problem was too large for her to handle.
But people weren't one dimensional. They had flaws, regrets, insecurities. Gods knew Anja certainly did. If Anja was only seeing Kelski's strengths, then what had he missed? In some ways, flaws could help define a person, make them tangible and real. If he had missed those things, then how could he hope to form a real friendship with her? Locked in those anxiety-ridden eyes, Anja reassessed.
"Yes, please. I would be very grateful for your help." Anja's voice was warm and reassuring and his gaze was gentle. The tone of voice was the one he used when comforting people, a task that came quite frequently in his line of work, whether when caring for the dead or the grieving. "We don't have anything like goats in Endrykas. Or...well maybe some of the other Pavilions did, but my family didn't." If Kelski came down from the deck and approached him he would follow her with his eyes as he continued talking. "We had dogs, and Striders of course. And Zibri. They're um...sort of like cows I suppose. Have I ever mentioned that my son loved dogs? Perhaps that's why I got so attached to the twins and their mother."
Anja pulled some grass tufts out of the ground and waved them tantalizingly over the side of the fence. The goats simply cocked their heads at him. Anja sighed. "They're very clever, aren't they?" Anja asked. "Much smarter than the Zibri. Not as smart as Striders of course, but you don't try to get Striders to do anything." Maisa snorted in agreement from where her head was buried in the grass. Anja dropped his bundle of grass behind the fence and approached one of the goats, gently holding out his hand to sniff. The female snorted the grass smell from his palm and nibbled at his fingers. "I do like them," Anja said. "They're hardy animals. And that cleverness, that will serve you well in the Wildlands. Nothing better than an animal that can take care of itself. I just wish I had a better idea on how to work with them."
Anja stole a glance at Kelski to study her expression, searching for a sign of her anxiety having relaxed. He wasn't sure what had her worried, but he had a sinking feeling he might be involved somehow. If it was his fault, then it was his responsibility to fix the problem. If it wasn't then well...Kelski was still his friend. He would do what he could to help. "Are you well?" he asked finally. "You seemed worried, just now."