"No point in living just to survive," He mutters in agreement, a little distracted by his own thoughts.
If he wants to give Mom something good, it's going to be something she lacks. Like the family she's missing. If he can draw back to that, he might actually get somewhere. And since the picture on the fridge is one taken at a beach, well, maybe...
Ugh. He's going to have to say it outright isn't he? For a moment, he makes a face. Then, through his teeth, he asks, "What do you need right now?"
The question surprises her a little. Is he actually asking to barter for the bracelet? She half expected him to just walk away without even a thank you, but here he is trying to make a trade... And she shakes her head.
"First one is on the house. You don't need to give me anything." She pauses, giving him a curious look. "...Unless you're asking for another one?"
...He is asking for a second one. He looks away like he's embarrassed, and there's something almost endearing about that. She tilts her head at him a little, as if she's trying to determine something.
Then she reaches back into that pocket and withdraws the stash of bracelets. Another one gets shaken out of the group. She holds it out to him, tucking the rest away again. Her mouth twitches up into a smile.
"...Second one's on the house, too. But no more freebies."
He colors. He can feel it. He ducks his already turned head, letting his hair become a veil and scratching at the back of it to make it more of one. But he knows. It's too late.
"Right. Sure. Whatever."
He snatches up the bracelet quick and looks about for some, or any excuse he can use to take off. Now.
He flushes in a way that she hasn't seen before and it takes an awful lot of willpower not to tease him for it. But he looks like he's about to bolt at the first chance he gets, and she's not about to let him run off when she's actually enjoying herself.
So she graces him with a subject change, her attention drifting back to the wares around them--and pointedly off of him. "Tell me about her. What kind of things does she like?"
This may actually be the worst thing. Not only is he embarrassed as hell, but talking about her like this, when she's not here, it feels too much like talking about her being gone.
"She's..." He keeps looking for a way out. "She's a Mom, you know?" He says, like an alien would know. "She likes things about her family, that remind her of all that and of home. Like stupid jokes, or growing her fruits, or cooking new foods. She likes people and being around them. Doing what she can for them. She likes sappy movies... cute animals... and sunflowers..."
This is getting hard to talk about. He trails off and doesn't bother to try picking it back up.
"I don't... really know what a Mom is," she points out with a small amount of hesitance. It's not entirely the truth. She remembers bits and pieces of a mom that isn't hers. One that never existed. But she's not sure if that's what human moms are supposed to be like, or just how she was made to think of them.
"I don't know about any of that other stuff, but sunflowers... we could do that, I think. Come on--" And she'll take him by the elbow to lead through the marketplace, so long as he doesn't yank it away from her.
He makes a face. Yeah, that was a stupid explanation. But it was one of the most apt.
He makes even more of a face, teeth grit like it's some unpleasant thing as she grips his elbow, and he almost does yank away. But he wants to find these sunflowers now too. Sunflowers from the moon that's... oddly fitting.
The moment she stops, then he's going to yank away. "What exactly do you have in mind?" He asks, then looks.
She doesn't stop until she's sniffed out the kind of thing she's looking for. There's a particular stall that she passed by earlier, not too far away. When she finds it again, she comes to a halt, letting him yank his arm away as her pleases.
"Something like these, maybe?" she responds, gesturing to the wares on display here. There's small pieces of crystal jewelry lined up in rows, each piece carefully crafted to resemble plants and flowers of some kind. And among all those pieces is a small necklace charm fashioned like a sunflower.
He frowns first, then his brows lift. "That's..." He reaches for that sunflower necklace. His pale fingers curl around and lift it up, letting it catch the light.
"That's actually not bad." He looks up, but doesn't speak to her. Instead he calls, "Yo! Rabbit!" Not the most charming greeting but-- "This for that?" He holds up a shell bracelet and points to the sunflower. The rabbit doesn't look entirely happy with the tone, tapping a foot and considering.
She watches the exchange with a small shake of her head. He's really not one for haggling, is he? The rabbit looks distinctly unimpressed, and she watches its little nose twitch, first at the boy and the bracelet, and then at her. She lifts a brow back at it. Is it looking to her to sweeten the deal?
She gives a bit of a shrug. "I don't have anything else on me, but I'll bring some cherries up next time we visit. That's the best I can do." That's an outright lie, but this particular rabbit doesn't know she has more bracelets in her pockets.
It seems to think about that for a moment, then nods, its ears flopping along with the movement. It holds out its hand for the shell bracelet.
He stares the rabbit down, like in lieu of manners, he can win the creature over in a stare off. If he waits long enough the rabbit will cave.
Only for her to cut in. He lifts a brow at her but manages to hide it before the rabbit looks back, and, to his surprise, accepts the deal.
He drops the shell to the rabbit's little paw, then snatches up the sunflower before it can change it's mind. It gets tucked into a pocket, a means to keep it safe, and he starts walking.
He glances back when he's sure she's followed and caught up. Then he asks, "Why did you do that? Go through all that trouble?"
She follows after the boy, making a quick getaway before the rabbit can rope them into anymore bargain for his wares. When they're a decent ways away, he speaks up, and--
Why did she go through all that trouble? She scrunches her mouth up to one side and shrugs. "It's not like I have anything better to do right now. And you seemed like you could use some help." A little bit of boredom, a little bit of sympathy.
She snorts at that. "Last I checked, you weren't some performing monkey. I can entertain myself." Just because she chooses that entertainment to be with him doesn't mean she can't direct it elsewhere if she's unwanted.
"By the way... I hope she likes the gift. Try not to just throw it at her. Wrap it up in something; it makes the surprise better."
It's pretty much the exact opposite of that one guy's reaction, way before. It's just flippant enough that it comes across genuine. He's going to let it go, just walk away and get back to what they're here for, when she goes on, and he turns part way back.
His mouth opens but nothing comes out for a minute. Then, "Right. Sure. I'll... do that or whatever. See ya around."
He's back at Mom's targets because he can't just throw knives at Gabriel every day. And besides, sometimes he wants to get experimental. And nostalgic. Like tying long strips of cloth to the end of each knife and tentatively seeing if he can swing it anywhere near the same. Usually, the answer is no, but that doesn't stop him from trying.
But as the second cloth snaps in half mid pull-back, with a quick catch and a curse, he starts to think that maybe this just isn't going to happen. Nothing is as good as him. Which feels simultaneously bolstering and truly, deeply disappointing. He frowns down at the useless knife and sighs. Gotta make do. There's no way around it...
It's not unusual to find Aletheia wandering around the Meadous. She makes patrols twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening--and sometimes during the middle of the day. This place is her home. There's no reason she can't just enjoy being in it.
But she comes across that strange boy again, and there he is...playing with knives in front of that woman's home again. His mother, he'd said. She tilts her head a little as she smells him, a bit of a smirk on her lips.
"Hey, Cocoberry," she calls, stopping and leaning on the white cane with the dragon head that she's taken to carrying around again. "Getting pretty good with that."
The cloth thing is clever. Not perfected, but she can't help but be just a little impressed with the ingenuity.
He looks up, frowning at the nickname and at her. And then at her comment.
He scoffs in offence. "First off, I'm not 'getting pretty good' I am good," He says. "Second... it's this cloth that's the problem. The cloth and the balance of the knife, with only so much improvement available for either."
He looks down on the knife again with disdain, the sort of judgement one reserves for another person that's disappointed them as opposed to a tool that's not doing it's job.
"Which is why I said Pretty Good. And not Good." There's an air of teasing in her tone that she turns on him for just a few seconds, but not more than that. She already knows he doesn't have much patience for games.
He huffs, but her shortened teasing wins her favor. He doesn't sour towards her, this time. Of course, he doesn't look all that happy either. Her mood is always bright and a little mocking-- like he usually is, and it bothers him just as much that his first reaction is this. He tries not to think about that.
"Ugh. No." It's admitted rueful and reluctant. "And don't offer rope, I am not going to practice a lasso."
"Lucky for you, I was going to suggest a sword. I'm not a one trick hoofbeast, you know."
Whether he knows what that is or not, she continues on, leaning more heavily on her cane. "I wouldn't be much of a guard if all I could swing around was some perfectly knotted rope."
He straightens up, a definite look of surprise upon him. And confusion.
"The way I recall you talking about hanging, I'd think you were. I thought you hadn't an interest in swords." A pause. "How much of a guard does this place even need? The most fighting that's happened has been around me."
"I can like more than one kind of weapon," she chides him, like that's the most obvious thing in the world.
"But the guard isn't really about keeping people from fighting. You guys manage yourselves. It's more about keeping a watch on anything that might have come in to mess with this place." She smirks a bit at him. "Serves as a welcoming party too, if you remember."
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