Lets Play House (Keyta)

[Blythe]

90 Winter, 510 AV Blythe was standing in her kitchen, over the counter. A small wooden bowl and a shiny red apple were resting on a cutting board. A long silver knife lay by the right of the apple. Blythe was holding an orange in her hands. She dug her thumbnail into the orange peel, and then proceeded to shed the orange's skin from there. When she had gotten all the peel off the orange, Blythe stuck her thumb in the tiny hole in the middle of it, and split it silently in two. She put half of the orange on the cutting board, and slowly split the orange slices off of the half she was still holding. When she had finished, she put the orange slices into the bowl, and retrieved the other half of the orange. She split that portion into slices with the tips of her fingers, accidently puncturing the delicate skin of the last slice, and causing a small stream of cold orange juice to squirt out at her. But Blythe ignored it. It wasn't as though it had made too much of a mess. She then placed the remaining orange slices in the wooden bowl, and then placed the bowl to the left of the cutting board. Blythe plucked the apple from the top of the cutting board, and quickly shined it on the top of her dress. She then put it back on the board. Blythe's left index finger held the top of the apple in place, while her thumb braced the bottom. She picked up the knife in her right hand, and cut the apple in half. The half on the right flopped over on the cutting board, and rocked up and down lightly for a few moments, like a see-saw, before it stopped; white fleshy side up. The portion of the apple Blythe still held in her hand she turned on its side, so that the white fleshy portion was face-down on the cutting board. She gripped the top and the bottom between her thumb and other fingers, and rested the tip of the knife to the far end of the apple half. Slowly, she lifted the knife, and brought it down again. Her hand seemed to be rocking slightly as she repeated the motion and cut the left half of the apple into five slices, before cutting the apple again horizontally. Blythe cut the apple right through the middle, so that she had ten tiny slices of apple. She then slid the knife under the pieces she had cut, and cupped her hand over them. She scooped all ten pieces into the wooden bowl, and then repeated the process with the other half of the apple. When she had finished, she crossed to the other end of the kitchen. Her sister, Mist, had left a half a lemon there. Blythe picked it up, and walked back to her bowl of fruit. She squeezed the lemon half over it, allowing each of the slices of fruit to be covered with at least a small portion of lemon juice, and the occasional piece of gushy-looking, light yellow lemon pulp. Blythe's hands had grown sticky with fruit juice, so she rinsed her hands in a small bucket of water that had been left in the right hand corner of the kitchen for that purpose specifically. When she was certain she had gotten all the juice out from between her fingertips, and slightly webbed hands, Blythe pulled her hands out of the tepid water, and rubbed them on the skirt of her dress to dry them off. She then walked back to the counter and picked up the wooden bowl, and then proceeded to her room. Blythe had left Keyta in there after it was decided that Keyta should come back home with her to recover. When she got back to her room, Blythe smiled sweetly when she realized that the girl was the same as when she had left her. Not like Blythe had expected anything to be different or anything. Keyta was still lying down on Blythe's bed. Her back resting against a pillow that had been propped up against the wall. The leg she had broken was propped up on a pillow, and a thin, light pink, cotton sheet had been drawn up and over her legs. The window that was directly across from her had been shut, and the curtains drawn over it. It seemed as though the pale golden sunlight bothered Keyta's eyes, and at times, kept her from getting the rest she needed to recover. A small glass of water sat on the bedside table to the right of the bed. As Blythe neared it, she realized that Keyta hadn't had a lot of it, which could not be a good sign. "Voila, one fruit salad!" Blythe said happily, doing her best to mask her concern for the young girl. She lowered her hands, and placed the bowl on the bed beside the girl, not wanting to put it on her stomach, for fear that she may hurt Keyta by mistake. "I hope you like apples and oranges... we seem to have a lot of those in the house." Blythe paused for a moment and flashed a wide smile, her eyes seemed to light up as she spoke, "hopefully you can help us eat up a few things!" Blythe ran her fingers through her hair. She wondered if Keyta wanted to eat what she had prepared for her, or if she even could. Would she have to feed the girl, by hand? Blythe wondered, not truly knowing just how injured the girl had been, or how well she had been cared for by the healers in the Opal Temple. Blythe wouldn't mind of course. She had fed a number of her nieces, and helped out around the house. She merely feared hurting Keyta's feelings, her pride. OOCThe bed is against the wall, and not in the middle of the room, in case you were wondering.

[Keyta]

Keyta was sound asleep, dreaming of flying through the air, searching for that one thing that seemed to be missing in her life. She couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was definitely something missing from her life. It could only be described as a void in her heart, nothing had seemed to fill it and she didn’t know what would. The little kelvic was extremely tired from the day before. It was just a day of worst luck; she went from trying to find a place to sleep to hardly sleeping at all. The small girl had slept clear through the night which was odd for her, but the darkness of the room was truly disorienting her inner clock. To Keyta, she could swear that the sun were only just now setting, and she would be able to run about the night. Without much explanation, the little girl began to smell the strong sweet scent of freshly torn fruits. Keyta’s head began to move toward the smell, looking as though her head were being moved by her nose as it twitched its way toward the bowl Blythe had set for her. Keyta’s nose touched the edge of the bowl and her eyes slowly and heavily opened to see the wooden bowl in front of her. As quickly as ever, the kelvic took her left arm and grabbed the bowl and shoved her face into the bowl eating from it directly. Keyta could easily taste some oranges and apples in the mixture, and it seemed that there was a another fruit that wasn’t actually in the bowl. There was so much food in the bowl, Keyta knew it was almost certainly too much, but she continued to eat as much as she could without even once questioning where the food came from. After finishing off about two thirds of the bowl, Keyta then began to look around, completely forgetting for a second that she was in Blythe’s home and that she had broken her arm and leg the day before. She took notice to where her limbs were to make sure she wasn’t going to hurt anything again, and then she began looking for Blythe. Why was it that she and Blythe seemed to keep running into each other in the most odd of ways? Keyta saw a glass of water and took it to drink only to drop the glass on the way to her lips. The glass fell from her hand straight to the floor where it broke into several pieces. It made a loud pop and startled Keyta for a moment before making several smaller dinging noises afterwards. The water splattered all over the floor and Keyta began to feel bad since she had just broken something that did not belong to her. Keyta quickly looked up to see what Blythe’s reaction was and to make sure she didn’t make her too mad for what she had done.

[Blythe]

Blythe giggled as she watched Keyta wolf down the fruit she had given her. "Best not to eat that too fast little one. You may give yourself a nasty stomach ache at that rate." With those few words, Blythe crossed to the far left-hand corner of the room. She had dragged her grandmother's wooden rocker in from the other room, and set her journal and quill pen atop it so that she may write and watch over Keyta at the same time. But before she had reached it, she heard a loud clank. A crashing on the floor, the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Blythe turned abruptly on her heels and noticed instantly that the water she had brought for Keyta was splayed across the floor. Tiny droplets lined the corner of her room, the night stand, and one larger puddle lay just below the largest portion of broken glass. Like a mote around a castle. Blythe sighed and ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth and the back of her teeth, producing a clicking noise. "Oh, look what you did!" Blythe half cried, half groaned. "Now I've got to find something to clean this mess up," Blythe added as she tip-toed around the glass shards and out of the room. She walked down the hall and grabbed a small hand towel and an empty bucket from the kitchen. As soon as she had, she returned to her room and looked around the floor. Most if not all of the glass had gathered around her night stand, and the side of the bed. Blythe walked over to the side of her bed, careful not to step on the glass. She then bent at the waist, and delicately plucked all of the visible glass shards from the floor. She held the cold, wet shards of glass between her fingertips for a moment before tossing them into the bucket. When she had gotten all of the shards she could see, she but the bucket down and began to wipe the water off the floor with the towel. When everything had been wiped away, Blythe tossed the towel into the bucket, and rested her hands on her knees. She pushed off them, and brought her body back to a standing position. "All clean," she muttered, as she grabbed the bucket and brought it back into the kitchen. She'd deal with disposing of the shards later. After that, Blythe returned to her room. "Just be more careful ok?" Blythe said. "Especially when you start walking again. You never know if I missed a tiny piece of glass. Wouldn't want anyone to step on that... it'd hurt," Blythe added rather absently as she crossed the room to her grandmother's rocker. She picked her journal up and off the seat, and then sat down. She opened the journal to the next clean page, and stared down at the paper. Perhaps writing a bit of poetry would help to pass the time, she thought, as she crossed her legs, and picked up the quill pen.

[Keyta]

“Oh, look what you did!” cried out Blythe, Keyta now became extremely worried, had she just made Blythe angry at her? “Now I’ve got to find something to clean this mess up,” Blythe said as she left the room. The sorry little girl’s eyes began to tear up as she was now certain Blythe was upset and she knew it was all her fault. Blythe finally re-entered the room with a bucket and a towel to clean to ground. Keyta tried to reach out to Blythe as grab her to try and cry on her, but before she could even feel the warmth from Blythe’s body, she retreated to the other room and again. Keyta was determined, she was now trying to push her legs over the edge of the bed and balance herself to stand up. Blythe walked back in the room and almost completely ignored Keyta and said something blankly in her direction. The injured girl used her left arm to push off the bed and balance mostly on her left leg. She then made careful work to walk across the room holding most of her body weight on her left arm when she placed her left leg down. Carefully but quickly, Keyta made her way across the room toward Blythe almost completely silent, but still making a thud sound with each placement of her left leg. Keyta grabbed hold of the chair Blythe was sitting in and before she could say anything, Keyta lunged at her wrapping her arms around the konti woman’s stomach to hold her as she cried into her dress. Keyta fell to her right knee and continued to cry into Blythe and couldn’t figure out how to show how sorry she was. Keyta looked up at Blythe with her eyes teary and nose running from the red faced crying.

[Blythe]

Blythe was just about to write the words, "the leaves fell alone," when she heard a loud thudding noise on the hardwood floor. It was getting louder and louder, and seemed to be drawing closer and closer. Blythe pulled her eyes off the blank paper and looked up. What she saw startled her. Bright orange hair inching closer and closer. Honey-colored eyes filled with determination. The girl was approaching, and before she knew it, she could feel the girl's tears seep into her clothes, causing the fabric to cling to her skin. She could feel the girl's hands around her, hear her sobs, feel her slight uneasiness when she realized that Keyta's nose was running. She was certainly not in the mood to wash her clothes... AGAIN. Blythe could feel the edges of her journal dig into her leg. The pages were flattened out against Keyta's body. "There, there, don't cry," Blythe said as she sat in her grandmother's rocking chair, which was slowly tilting forward, and then back again beneath Keyta's added weight. "It was only a glass, we can easily get a new one." Blythe said, doing her best to get the girl to quit crying. "I know you didn't mean to break it," Blythe added, as she whispered in the girl's ear and made shushing noises. She was running her hands through the girl's hair, doing her best to comfort her. Keyta's hair felt just as Blythe had remembered it. Soft, smooth, relatively free of knots. Then it hit her. Keyta was hugging her. Keyta was out of bed. THAT. WAS. NOT. A. GOOD. THING. FOR. HER. RECOVERY. Instantly, Blythe found herself in full-blown-makeshift-mommy-mode. Blythe lightly slid her hands down Keyta's head, until they stopped on each of her shoulders. She pushed against them gently, so as not to hurt her, but still forcefully enough where she managed to unravel Keyta's arms from around her waist, and her head from its resting place upon Blythe's chest. "You should be in bed," Blythe scolded the girl as her lavender-colored eyes peered into her honey-colored ones. "You know you could hurt yourself doing that, and we wouldn't want that. Especially not you. Remember what you felt yesterday?" Blythe paused for a moment, waiting for the girl to nod, before continuing. "Now you don't want to feel like that again do you? That wasn't any fun, now was it?" Slowly, Blythe got to her feet. The journal fell from her lap, and landed on the floor with a muffled thud. It was resting to the right of her foot. But Blythe ignored it. Her fingers seemed to be digging into Keyta's shoulders. She was careful not to let go, so that the girl wouldn't stumble without her support. Blythe stared down into the girl's glassy eyes. Her face seemed harsher than usual. Frustrated, stern. Her brow was furrowed, and her facial muscles seemed tense. "You be sure not to do something like this again," Blythe scolded. Gently, she shook the girl's shoulders, trying her best to knock some sense into her, to make her understand. Blythe's eyes were blazing, she was so frustrated, and so worried about the girl. Worried that she'd hurt herself again. "Just promise me you won't do that again," Blythe said, her voice raised, stern sounding. Laced with undertones of concern, and a generally motherly nature. "Nod if you promise, that is all I ask," Blythe said, as her fingers continued to dig into Keyta's shoulders. She was so upset that she didn't even realize she may be hurting her.

[Keyta]

Keyta spent a full hour back in bed crying before finally falling back asleep. She couldn’t figure out shy everything she had been doing was making Blythe so upset, but more confusing at the time was why was she so tired? Keyta laid there for several more hours before finally waking back up, very slowly waking up at that. She opened one eye first, and noticed the sun was still present, which meant she must have either missed another night or the sun was never setting beforehand. Keyta raised her left hand to her face to wipe away the sleep from her eyes and some drool too. She flipped her head over to look for Blythe and was happy to see she was still there. The little girl began to think back on yesterday, how she fell from the sky and hurt herself, how Blythe and this other man seemed to care so much for a complete stranger, and how Keyta completely forgot about something…. Keyta’s bag! The kelvic had completely forgotten about her bag as it still lays outside hidden in the bush near the beach. And know she was completely turned around, she couldn’t remember how to get back to her bag and it had everything in it; even her clothes. At that thought, Keyta looked down at what she was wearing, if anything, and was surprised to see that she was clothed, but not in that cloak from yesterday and not with her own clothes. Keyta reached down and grabbed the clothes with her left hand but was surprised when she did at how soft it was. She then took her left sleeve and rubbed it across her face, and started rubbing her face back against her sleeve. Keyta did not recognize the material, but she didn’t care, it was soft, and it was a wonderful feeling. The little girl looked across the room and noticed a curtain was pulled over a window, and that a large amount of light was shining through the window, but was blocked by that curtain. This only meant that Keyta was indeed awake during broad daylight, which was odd for her, she was so use to being awake during the night. She wanted to get up and try to look at the window, but fear that Blythe would get angry again kept her laying in her bed without much argument.

[Blythe]

Keyta had fallen back to sleep soon after Blythe had forced her back into bed. During that time, Blythe had changed into a clean, lavender-colored dress that ended just above her knees, and whose sleeves were long, and belled out around her hands, and sat back down in her grandmother's rocker. She had plucked her journal off the floor and set it on her lap to the next open page. The quill pen had remained wedged between a few of the journal's pages. When she had situated the journal on her lap, Blythe gently pulled the quill pen out from between its pages, and set to work. Blythe hoped to write at least a single poem while Keyta remained sound asleep, hopefully dreaming of pleasant things. Whatever such a thing may be for such a young and mysterious girl. Thus, Blythe lifted the quill pen and held it between her right thumb, index, and middle fingers. She pressed the tip of the pen into the paper, making a single black dot, which was steadily growing, and darkening as her hand waited to make a move. After a few moments, she wrote: The sand slipped through her fingertips as she held her hands out towards the sky, begging to know when all that time had passed and she had grown so old, so worn, begging to know why she never noticed, until now. Blythe managed to write a few other things before little Keyta opened her eyes. When she did, Blythe greeted her cheerfully, "good morning you silly sleepy head! And how did you sleep?" Blythe asked as she closed her journal, picked it up off her lap and then got up and crossed the room to the side of her bed. Blythe stared down at the young girl, with a slightly concerned expression. "You feeling any better than before?" Blythe asked, as she put her journal down on the night stand. "Did some writing while you were asleep," Blythe commented. "Do you ever write? Or perhaps draw? Paint? Do anything that may be considered artistic or creative?" Blythe inquired.

[Keyta]

The little half awoken girl was half startled by the odd questions, but she did nod her head to Blythe when she was asked if she could draw. And almost completely ignoring her for the moment, Keyta observed the room. Noticing that there was more to this home like Keyta’s own back in Ravok, she wanted to explore the rest of the house. The tiny girl looked at Blythe once more and held her left hand at Blythe and opened and closed her hand and then threw her arm toward the door to the room and repeated her hand movement. Keyta didn’t know exactly how to ask, but she wanted to get up, and she wanted to see the rest of this house, and she wanted to see the others that might live here as well. Keyta then heard voices down in a different end of the house and that made her more anxious, she wanted to meet these new people, and see who Blythe lived with. Keyta started to look around the room for an easier way to move around without having to use Blythe to move about, but couldn’t see anything except for the wall which she had already used once before.

[Blythe]

"No!" Blythe scolded as she wagged her finger at Keyta. "You are not going to move from this bed unless someone carries you. You will not hurt yourself again." Blythe sighed heavily as the girl continued to sign with her hands. "And that's final," she said. She was putting her foot down once and for all. The makeshift mommy had spoken. "Now, why don't we find something you like doing. Maybe it will help to pass the time you spend in that bed, working on your recovery," Blythe began. "Do you write? Even if it's poetry? I write it myself, so perhaps we could compare notes..." Blythe's voice trailed off as she waited for some sort of clue from the girl. "Or perhaps you like reading? Or painting? Drawing? Playing some sort of instrument?" Blythe paused again for a moment, as she searched the inner reaches of her brain for more suggestions. She came up short. "Never did learn how to play an instrument, and my singing voice is atrocious... song is said to be poetry set to words you know. So I suppose I could write my own music, technically, even though it'd be rather basic." Blythe sighed. She knew so little of music, yet, a part of her wanted to learn more about it. She always did love hearing others sing. Well, if they were any good anyway. "Pick your passion," Blythe giggled as Briar walked into the room. "Hello Briar," Blythe greeted her eldest sister. "Hello Blythe, how's your guest doing?" Briar asked. Blythe giggled, "she seems alright." Briar's eyes flashed happily. She nodded, and abruptly turned on her heels and walked back out the door. Her long blonde hair swished behind her, before returning to its resting position along the length of her back. "That's good," she called over her shoulder, before she disappeared from sight. Blythe sighed, her sister was so strange sometimes, she almost didn't know what to do with her. "Anyway," Blythe began, as she turned back to her patient, "is there anything we can get you?" she asked. She had included her family in her question. They should be willing to help her, she thought. OOCSince this is as good a time as any, I shall finally give a short description of Briar, just so you know. Briar's eyes are a deep blue. Her skin is the same color as Blythe's, as are her scales. She is only 5'7, a full two inches shorter than Blythe. Her hair is darker than Blythe's and approximately four inches longer. It is wavy.

[Keyta]

The little kelvic watched this new face enter the room and just as quickly leave the room. Something felt odd about her as she walked away, almost snooty, but not quite. “Is there anything we can get you?” Blythe asked looking straight over to Keyta. Keyta looked at her for a moment and then noticed that the glass she had broken never did get replaced and so she never got to get a drink. The little girl looked back at Blythe and shyly pointed at the area where the glass once stood. She didn’t how else to ask but something about the way she had to ask made her feel funny about asking at all. Keyta tilted her head downward and lowered her left arm back down and wondered if she had been rude to Blythe and wondered if she might get upset again. Keyta then tried to look outside again, how long has it been since she has been awake in the middle of the sunlight hours? How active were people when the sun was up? And when would eyes allow her to see during the day without aching so horribly?