"They are horrible," Chimbeeriun told her sourly,
and his feathers fluffed more; in agitation he began to preen them down, alternating between speaking and combing. "I have to press and soak charcloth, and I have to carve feathersticks, on my own — I can't even buy them. She keeps telling me, they'll know if you buy it, they'll know if you don't make it with your own hands, but I don't see how they know anything, the..."
Stupid things, he'd started to say, but he heard Skaffwory's voice in his mind now as well — Don't insult them — they'll know if you insult them. Do you really want something so powerful to even have the inkling that you don't respect it?
Kuhyo'ur was nodding vigorously. "That's how it was with me too, I had to do all the grunt work — spinning out filaments, making these wires —" She pointed at the box she had earlier.
"Actually," she amended with a kind of grimace, "I guess I'm still doing that stuff now, but...but I mean...it works up to something more, doesn't it? It's all basics but it really is helpful, eventually."
Chimbeeriun snorted at her loudly. "Probably not as helpful as it could be. I guess with the charcloth at least I get something at the end, but sometimes she has me meditate — just — just sit there, and think. Just listen to the wind, she says. Just listen," he mocked, "to the sound of everyone else making money, earning a livelihood while you sit there like a worm, waiting to be picked off... Everyone else has jobs. Look at you!"
Kuhyo'ur laughed. "Isn't that a little unfair? You do have a trade, after all. Even if it's going more slowly than usual, I think it's awfully cool how you're going to be an elementalist."
"If all an elementalist does is sit around thinking about nothing and carve sticks, then I don't want to be an elementalist at all."
"Haven't you ever seen the salamanders?"
"No," he said. "She only ever just sits there on her fat, burning branch putting tinder on the bark. The branch just looks like burning coal. She says she doesn't call any powerful ones when I'm around because I'm too young. I'm not learning anything that's going to help me in life," he told her in a rough voice. "I still have to rely on her for everything. And —"
"Kuhyo'ur! There are clients!" called a voice from inside, and Kuhyo'ur looked back hastily.
"I'm coming! I have to go," she told Chimbeeriun. "I hope things get better with Skaffwory. Come back again — I think I'll be busy for the rest of this week — but maybe the next at the fifth flicker, okay?"
"Okay," Chimbeeriun said, feeling even more frustrated. So his sister — Kuhyo'ur — was busy. Busy working and earning a livelihood. While Chimbeeriun wasted away his short youth playing with sticks and oily cloth.
He launched himself into the air. The wind was good and buffered him up fast, but he flapped anyway, hard, rowing out his frustrations. I hate this. I hate this. How much longer am I going to have to do this?
Stupid things, he'd started to say, but he heard Skaffwory's voice in his mind now as well — Don't insult them — they'll know if you insult them. Do you really want something so powerful to even have the inkling that you don't respect it?
Kuhyo'ur was nodding vigorously. "That's how it was with me too, I had to do all the grunt work — spinning out filaments, making these wires —" She pointed at the box she had earlier.
"Actually," she amended with a kind of grimace, "I guess I'm still doing that stuff now, but...but I mean...it works up to something more, doesn't it? It's all basics but it really is helpful, eventually."
Chimbeeriun snorted at her loudly. "Probably not as helpful as it could be. I guess with the charcloth at least I get something at the end, but sometimes she has me meditate — just — just sit there, and think. Just listen to the wind, she says. Just listen," he mocked, "to the sound of everyone else making money, earning a livelihood while you sit there like a worm, waiting to be picked off... Everyone else has jobs. Look at you!"
Kuhyo'ur laughed. "Isn't that a little unfair? You do have a trade, after all. Even if it's going more slowly than usual, I think it's awfully cool how you're going to be an elementalist."
"If all an elementalist does is sit around thinking about nothing and carve sticks, then I don't want to be an elementalist at all."
"Haven't you ever seen the salamanders?"
"No," he said. "She only ever just sits there on her fat, burning branch putting tinder on the bark. The branch just looks like burning coal. She says she doesn't call any powerful ones when I'm around because I'm too young. I'm not learning anything that's going to help me in life," he told her in a rough voice. "I still have to rely on her for everything. And —"
"Kuhyo'ur! There are clients!" called a voice from inside, and Kuhyo'ur looked back hastily.
"I'm coming! I have to go," she told Chimbeeriun. "I hope things get better with Skaffwory. Come back again — I think I'll be busy for the rest of this week — but maybe the next at the fifth flicker, okay?"
"Okay," Chimbeeriun said, feeling even more frustrated. So his sister — Kuhyo'ur — was busy. Busy working and earning a livelihood. While Chimbeeriun wasted away his short youth playing with sticks and oily cloth.
He launched himself into the air. The wind was good and buffered him up fast, but he flapped anyway, hard, rowing out his frustrations. I hate this. I hate this. How much longer am I going to have to do this?
Labels: chimbeeriun
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