1629, Fire Season, Illusion Week, Wildday
Context
In the camp of the Sartar Alliance, during precious down-time between journeys. S5.O-16.
Events
After seeing Lord Raven, and politely picking a bit of boiled horse out of her teeth where nobody can see her, Berra goes in search of the Feathered Death.
He ith to be found commentating on a fyrd practice1Practithe.
Berra slips in beside him. “I heard you have an eye-patch because you send your other eye to look for undead to kill.” She takes a look at the fyrd as well.
He nods thoughtfully, “Good thtory. Maybe I should work out how to do it.”.
“How’s it going?” Berra sounds subdued, but not beaten down. Just quiet, and a little bit curious.
“It’th not bad. Not my prefered thtyle of fighting, but it’th okay.”
“Why would dragonewts be puzzled when I threaten to kill them?” It sounds like an ordinary Berra question, but there is the suggestion it was not the one she meant to ask. A hesitation, or a determined expression.
” I don’t think they experientth Humakt ath we do.”
There is a long pause, and finally Berra blurts, “Do you ever lose your temper when you don’t mean to?” Finally her eyes come off the struggling amateurs to focus on the professional.
“Sometimeth. That guard didn’t really detherve it. When I wath a duckling I wath worth.”
Berra winces. “Only there’s that kid now, Nayale. And I remember being really angry when I was her age, so I’m just … I was unjust to her. How do you not do that?”
“Breathe. Meditate. Endure.”
“But it always happens really quickly.” Berra sighs. “I’m probably going to get sent through Duck Point.”
“Good choiceth.”
“Eh.” Berra is obviously distrustful of the advice or her abilities. “Any messages for your … family?”
He digs in a pouch. “Give thith to Mother.” It’s a handful of coins and a gem
Berra does not even bother counting it. She just pulls out a cloth to wrap it and keep it from her own. “I might owe two thousand Lunars to the grazelands.”
There’s a little groan
“I know. Lord Tennebris might cover it because I got sent, but… I walked off Irillo’s caravan a bit after that. And anyhow, I shouldn’t just assume someone else will do it – it’s my responsibility until I find out. I killed four people.” Beat-pause. “That wasn’t my temper.”
“Magic?”
“Yeah.” Nose-wrinkle.
“Then nothing to berate yourself about.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t. But I’m feeling a bit annoyed about Irillo and… it’s hard being a commander, right? It’s not just me?”
“Yeth.”
Berra sighs. “I… thanks.” Then she grins, and bows.
- 1Practithe
