WHO: six, marcus, marcoulf, barrow, matthias, laura & derrica WHAT: escorting some stranded orphans back to ostwick WHEN: firstfall 9:45 WHERE: on the road to ostwick NOTES: n/a.
How nice it would be to fear something as simple as wolves. Derrica's fingers twist idly in the edge of her cloak, watching Marcus and the child. He's good with them in a different way than Matthias and Barrow.
Patience and rationale are valuable, she thinks. There's something to listening and explaining as a method of placating children's fears.
"Yes," Derrica answers gamely. "And it's why there's one of us in every tent, just in case."
Though Derrica is more concerned with bandits than wolves. Hamish doesn't need to know that.
"Don't you think Marcus and I are more than a match for a few mangy old wolves?"
Hamish finally tears his gaze away from the dark tree line -- no doubt seeing glowing yellow eyes where moonlight catches on every damp leaf -- to look up at Derrica, taking her measure, the staff she holds, as if imagining what she could do to wolf. Whomp it, maybe.
Marcus had had a similar thought to Derrica, earlier, that bandits are the more likely, more vicious, certainly more intelligent concern over some wild animals that a flash of fire or a loud noise could frighten away. But he imagines, then, that wolves are the more evocative terror to a small child, with fangs and spooky howls and the like.
He'd have to have a talking to with the older ones about silly stories, tomorrow.
"But you know what isn't a match for mangy old wolves," he says, ducking down now into a crouch, staff held at a steep, practiced angle. "Tired little boys he didn't get enough sleep the night before, aye?"
Hamish gives a whine, but it's more sullen than fearful, now.
A smile twitches at Derrica's mouth. How did she measure against a wolf? She's curious to hear, but not curious enough to derail Marcus' approach to this conversation to ask.
"Go sleep, Hamish," she agrees. "I promise, sitting up is a lot more boring than you're imagining."
Not that Derrica is complaining. But she imagines there's some wailing about to happen in that tent about how dull this trip is so far. It's a little funny. Strange what these children have found to object to on their journey when all their escorts are just pleased at having to navigate chilly weather and altering the lyrics to songs.
"Besides, it's cold," Derrica continues, her constant refrain for months now. "And you haven't come out with a coat."
In the end, it's very likely that the cold is the most convincing component in this argument. Hamish seems to shiver on cue at Derrica's urging, looking back at Marcus, and when he nods back towards the tend, Hamish goes racing back to it, as if the chill in the air and wolves both might get him between here and there. But he doesn't issue the forest any last fearful looks.
Slower off the mark, Marcus gets to his feet, levering himself up with his staff.
"You'd have managed it without my help," Derrica deflects, turning her gaze from Hamish's retreating form to Marcus. "Bringing him out to see was a good idea."
With one hand, she cinches the folds of her cloak back around her body against the cold.
"You're good with them," she continues. "We'd have had a harder time without you accompanying us."
It feels right to tell him. He's a grown man, and likely doesn't care very much for her praise, but this is the truth. Marcus is capable at wrangling children in a very different way than Barrow and Matthias. There's an aspect to his presence here that tempers Barrow's bluster and Matthias' eagerness, steadies Six and Laura's uncertainty. He has some experience, Derrica thinks. She doesn't ask, because she can piece together some of his life just from assumption. He'd likely had some young mages in his care, and Derrica is hesitant to ask directly for fear that the rebellion hadn't been kind to them.
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Patience and rationale are valuable, she thinks. There's something to listening and explaining as a method of placating children's fears.
"Yes," Derrica answers gamely. "And it's why there's one of us in every tent, just in case."
Though Derrica is more concerned with bandits than wolves. Hamish doesn't need to know that.
"Don't you think Marcus and I are more than a match for a few mangy old wolves?"
no subject
Marcus had had a similar thought to Derrica, earlier, that bandits are the more likely, more vicious, certainly more intelligent concern over some wild animals that a flash of fire or a loud noise could frighten away. But he imagines, then, that wolves are the more evocative terror to a small child, with fangs and spooky howls and the like.
He'd have to have a talking to with the older ones about silly stories, tomorrow.
"But you know what isn't a match for mangy old wolves," he says, ducking down now into a crouch, staff held at a steep, practiced angle. "Tired little boys he didn't get enough sleep the night before, aye?"
Hamish gives a whine, but it's more sullen than fearful, now.
no subject
"Go sleep, Hamish," she agrees. "I promise, sitting up is a lot more boring than you're imagining."
Not that Derrica is complaining. But she imagines there's some wailing about to happen in that tent about how dull this trip is so far. It's a little funny. Strange what these children have found to object to on their journey when all their escorts are just pleased at having to navigate chilly weather and altering the lyrics to songs.
"Besides, it's cold," Derrica continues, her constant refrain for months now. "And you haven't come out with a coat."
no subject
Slower off the mark, Marcus gets to his feet, levering himself up with his staff.
"Nicely done," he says. "My thanks."
no subject
With one hand, she cinches the folds of her cloak back around her body against the cold.
"You're good with them," she continues. "We'd have had a harder time without you accompanying us."
It feels right to tell him. He's a grown man, and likely doesn't care very much for her praise, but this is the truth. Marcus is capable at wrangling children in a very different way than Barrow and Matthias. There's an aspect to his presence here that tempers Barrow's bluster and Matthias' eagerness, steadies Six and Laura's uncertainty. He has some experience, Derrica thinks. She doesn't ask, because she can piece together some of his life just from assumption. He'd likely had some young mages in his care, and Derrica is hesitant to ask directly for fear that the rebellion hadn't been kind to them.