The ache in his arms was enough to drive him to an early bed, but it felt like the ache in his legs would keep him there. Work and training today, a clash in schedules, had left him sore to the bone. Sunrise had called for a training session with stiff, uncomfortable armor and hours of repeated swings at a small target his poor eyes continued to deny visibility of. It was a cheap dummy most could dice in half with his time spent with a sword, yet he had done more damage to himself than the target. He had been getting better; this time he had actually run it through… the marked areas were so blurred at close range it took time to find his mark.
And after that he had been requested by an elderly man to aid in lugging a cart half across Syrilas after his horse was injured by wolves outside the city. That in itself was a heavy task. Roped to the cart like a beast of burden, finding foothold sturdy enough for each step was already a challenge. With the cart covered but the contents obviously of metals or something of equal weight, the task of simply getting it moving had him straining. If he could count he would have been surprised at how many steps he took compared to how many it felt like. He could have run miles with more ease.
On his way back to the Syrilas Apartments he found a reason to forget his desire of rest. A whimper had caught his attention first, but when a yelp followed he turned to try and spot what was going on. With his poor eyes failing to distinguish the blurs, he listened… The whimpering was moving, but so was everything else. It sounded small, obviously not a child, so it was an animal… Young too… His eyes cast down, squinting now. A little blur weaved through the feet of passersby and no one seemed to notice. Its movements were awkward, like nothing he had ever witnessed. With only the mass of gray, he looks closer, just a little, to focus on what others could not see.
It was a canine, a young, male pup in fact. Gray fur, that explained the color of the blur, but why the strange motion? It took a little more focus to see a physical ailment others could see with untrained eyes. It had a limp. The right forepaw was injured, and the poor pup was starved with ribs on display. Johan slowly makes his way over to the animal which had now taken to laying in the street, maybe in hope of its master coming for it? Not likely, he thought. The animal had either been neglected and thrown out, or beaten and starved before running away.
Poor thing, Johan thought. With slow steps towards the canine, he could see the blur shift. Having unfocused on the Aura, he had to assume the animal was looking his way. Stopping a few feet from the pup, he removes a dirty glove to expose a callused hand. This had definitely been someone’s pet, as it rose and was unhesitant in moving closer. Sniffing Johan’s fingers with the touch of a cold and wet nose, the pup seemed to grow eager. The rapid swinging behind the pup that Johan assumed to be the tail began wagging. “Quite friendly, despite your condition…”
It had been so long since he had spoken to his mother about a pet. Of course she said he was not ready for such responsibility, and left it at that. He had been Twenty-four since early this season, surely by now he was ready for it. A smile crossed Johan’s chapped lips at the thought of a faithful companion like this pup, but it faded as something else crossed his mind. What if he was wrong about the owner? What if this poor pup had gotten lost and injured afterwards? His mind slipped to the thought of a child crying over a lost companion. From what he had seen of the pup's aura it was an Akinva Deerstalker, a family pet and a breed he had wanted as a child himself.
With a deep breath he forces the thought from his head. The pup had started scaling his extended hand, attempting to gnaw on his wrist white taking weight off of its forepaw. That adorable energy brought back his smile. Lifting the pup, it yelped as his arm brushed its paw. When it began to struggle, his other hand rose to rest on the back of the canine’s neck and with a soft voice he hushed his new friend. “Shush, shush now, little one… You are safe with me.” It aided a bit, but still the pup whimpered. Johan had never held an animal – well, not a live one anyway. Rising to his feet and continuing his trek home, he had to readjust the hound several times before it found a comfortable position resting against his chest with his head propped on Johan’s shoulder.
The walk seemed much livelier as he stroked the pup’s kind fur and cooed to it in a soft voice. He remembered how that always soothed him after a nightmare. It was when they started down the hall with his room that his new friend seemed to relax fully, to the point of snoring even. After unlocking his door and removing one of the torches from the wall, he entered his home and crosses the small room to lay the canine on his bed before turning his attention on the hearth. Though the pup had stirred to awareness, Johan continued to set split logs in the fireplace along with kindling.
Only when the hearth sparked to a young life did he stand. Having to exit once more to replace the torch, he closed the door upon reentry and quickly strides towards the now whimpering pup. He sat down on the edge of the bed and was greeted by a wagging tail of the gray blur. Reaching behind him to take the bundled blanket, he slips the dagger from his belt and carefully cuts a long narrow strip from the stiff cloth.
“I’m sorry, my friend… this may hurt.” He spoke softly before sheathing the dagger and tossing the blanket behind him again. The pup had moved towards it to investigate but with a hand reaching back for it, the pup quickly returned to Johan’s side. Tracing the dog’s body with a hand and picking out its midsection, he lifted the pup onto his lap and slowly took the hurt paw in his hand. Though the pup yelped, Johan did not release. Using the ripped cloth, he wraps the leg to keep it straight and sturdy. Though he had little idea what he was doing, he had seen this done once on a man when his arm was bent the wrong way.
When he had tied it snug, he felt the bandage and hoped it was not too big, it near doubled the limb’s girth, maybe even tripled. At least when he sat the whimpering pup down he could ignore the sounds in hope that the limb would be better soon. Rising to his feet he moves towards a table laden with numerous things of day to day life. For now he took up a skin of water and poured half of it into an empty bowl. After taking a swig of the fresh water himself, he proceeded to feel around the table for the less obvious things. His Bowl and water skin had been marked with bright colors to help him distinguish them, but now he felt for something he had no need to mark before. Feeling a thick, slick structure he lifted and investigated it.
A bone from small ham which had fed him for a few days; he had planned to throw it out this morning, but luckily he had procrastinated. It still had a fair amount of meat on it, but still he took out his dagger once more. It had an edge kept sharp, unlike his eating knife, which he used to carefully split open the bone to bare the marrow to open air. Resting the two halves on a plate along with a few strips of fat which he would not eat; Johan takes the two dishes and rests them on the floor near the warmth of the hearth.
Scratching came from across the room. He could tell the pup was trying to get off the bed, but the cast was interfering; for a little while at least. With a *Kerplunk* sound the pup was on the floor and hobbling towards the bounty given to it. Johan chuckled at that before returning to the table to take the seat there and simply watch.
“It must have been a while since you have eaten mere tablescraps…” He could not imagine how long it had been since the poor animal had eaten. Despite his earlier doubts, his mind was now set. “I believe I shall call you… Leets…” Steel backwards, a simple but lovable pet name appropriate for the companion of a Metalsmith… “Leets,” he repeated to try the name out. He enjoyed the name, it sounded comfortable already. The pup seemed to have only food on its mind. Little Leets grunts and gnaws on bone, laps noisily at the water, and repeats for six or seven chimes before he finally falls into a slumber.
Rising from his chair, Johan unties his weaponry from his belt and removes the black Windoak Surcoat to ready for bed. Striding over to the slumbering pup he lifts the canine from its protective position over a cleaned and gnawed bone. “Come now, boy; time for bed.” And with that, he walks over to his cot and sits. Resting the Bastardsword at the head of his bed against the wall and the dagger hanging on the frame, he finally stretches out. The pup had begun to stir, but as it was nestled against Johan’s chest it nuzzled close and whimpered a light sigh. |
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by Johan Barnaby on May 13th, 2013, 9:30 am 
