Picking up the Pieces

Characters Involved:

Samara, a female squirrel

Castus, a male squirrel

Lacuna, a male squirrel (spoofed by Samara)

Southsward Village: Apricot Road

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You stand on the dirt road of the village, which is warm against your footpaws. Wheel ruts run back and forth down the road, heading west towards the town square. Tall homes and buildings stand alongside the road, smiling at you as you walk along the street. A young couple walks by, nodding towards you as they stroll eastwards.

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It would be a quiet night, but there is a disturbance in the tavern - beasts are yelling, there is clatter of broken glass, and the general chaotic din that can only be associated with a bar fight. Several beasts spill out of the tavern and into the streets, and while not much is immediately evident in the confusing mass of twisting, snarling, snapping, and flailing bodies, it would appear that it is three against one - and the one is holding her own, for now. Those interested in watching the revelry pour out of the tavern in an excited cluster, yelling and chanting their encouragements, while several brave mice attempt to break up the ruckus. One of them grabs a petite, punching, bloodied, silver squirrel from the top of the fray - lifting her clear off her feet as they still kick wildly out. She breaks loose and throws herself back at her adversaries - which, upon closer inspection consists of another squirrel and a mouse. The rush resumes to pry the three apart as someone spits a tooth onto the ground.

"What on /earth?/" Castus says, poking his head out of a nearby window. He seems to have been cat-burglaring. Or maybe just visiting the upstairs bedroom of some other young, pretty thing. Since he has to throw on his tunic before he goes out, it's probably the latter. "Sam?!" he blurts out, running toward the conflict and immediately joining the fray to tackle and shove off the attacking squirrel and his mouse friend. It shouldn't be too hard - a couple seasons of archery and climbing and fighting have made him the exact opposite of the waif he used to be.

Samara feels the fight being dragged off of her, and she protests violently - looking rather crazed as she lashes at the mouse before being hit, hard, in the side of the head. As Castus throws himself into the fray she is able to struggle free and stagger backwards, looking like complete hell. One eye is already starting to swell and blacken, blood is streaking out of her mouth, and she exists in a state of general disarray. "I - I got this, Cas." She growls, balling a paw into a fist and charging back at the two, swinging and managing to catch the other offending squirrel (NOT Castus) in the side of the head, returning the favor he just paid her. Somebeast grabs her from behind - one of the bar patrons - and another pair of paws joins in to hold the squirrelmaid in place as she continues to try and lunge her way free with less and less force, swaying slightly as her knock to the head catches up with her. "Let go!" She shouts, kicking at the nearest pair of shins.

"STOP!" Castus yells at the others, grabbing them by the arms and twisting them violently until they release Samara. He whirls around and disables the squirrel's mouse friend with a swift kick to the stomach - fast, dangerous, the kind of attack a real warrior uses. It makes the others back off, momentarily at least. "This fight is over," he declares, paws balled into fists, glaring at bar patrons and Sam's attackers alike. "You've all had your fill of blood, now get back inside."

Several groans of disappointment answer Cas's declaration, but the effect rings true. The tension broken, the fight leaves the group, and the crowd scatters. Those who were holding Sam back cautiously release her, one of them keeps a hold on her arm. "I think she's goin' down..." he mutters to Castus, holding the female out by her upper arm to steady her as she staggers defiantly away, trying to pry his fingers from her bicep. "Let /go/!" She growls, the fight leaving her body before it leaves her spirit. She swipes at thin air.

"We've /got/ this," Castus firmly tells the last 'helper,' chasing him off with a glare. He does, however, extend and arm to catch Samara and stop her flailing around. "Gently," he says, helping her sit and tutting. "Geez, Sam, I thought /I'd/ be the one causing trouble in town..." He pulls out a cloth. "Hold this to your nose."

"I wasn't causing trouble..." She protests, squeezing her eyes shut as the street tilts back and forth suspiciously. Sam holds the cloth to her nose, wincing. "But, honestly, what did you expect?" She adds with a grumble, a paw going to rub at the spot her head was hit, already feeling the lump rising. With a grunt, she pushes her palms against the ground in a shaky attempt to stand.

"A cuckolded spouse? A jilted lover? Not you flying out of a bar. Was that the guy you bumped into earlier?" He settles down next to her with a grin. "We'll have to be moving on sooner rather than later if we're gonna be stirring up a hornet's nest like that. Guess we're /both/ troublemakers."

Samara manages to stand, but leans dangerously. She probably has a mild concussion - but when has that stopped her before? "Might've been." She replies, coyly (meaning yes). "And a friend, of course, because I'm so big and scary." She pauses, groggily registering what he had said. "Oh gods, what did /you/ do?" She asks with a smirk, managing to find the wall to keep herself upright. She leans heavily against the brick as she spits a bloody gob on the floor.

"Whatever you're thinking, it's probably that plus a few ripped bodices," Castus answers, reaching out to steady her. "But /you,/ we need to get to a healer. I am /not/ taking you back to the inn with you looking like that. Your father would probably tear my throat out."

"He's already cross enough with me, it would just solidify his /point/ further." She growls, swatting his paw away and stubbornly shuffling forward, back towards the Bed and Breakfast. "What, did your lady friend have a sister or something?" She raises an eyebrow. "Or...worse?"

"Never mind me," Castus says, keeping up with her. "What's happening between you and your father? I didn't notice him being 'cross.' You've been nervous about meeting him all the way down here, but when you met you were thick as thieves." He holds his paws up in a conciliatory gesture. "I just want to know everything's all right with you, Sam."

"My 'prestigious invitation' has been revoked." Samara snarls "Because I am suddenly 'too young', which my father translated to mean 'too volatile'." The botanist laughs and shakes her head (which she immediately regrets). "The worst part is that he is completely right - I'm not fit to be crammed onto a ship with however many other beasts for however long. I pursue this job because it's in my nature to keep to myself and my work, and I apparently haven't actually 'made an improvement' like he thought I had." She sighs, stopping to lean against the wall, and shoots Cas a look. "Listen, don't tell Mag about this but, the reason he sent me off to travel and do his work is because he thought that there was something, you know, /off/ in my head. He thought that it would do me good to first travel with my aunt and then alone because there was...a bit of an incident." She taps the wall angrily. "Thieves attacked my father and I on the road and, yeah, okay, we had them incapacitated but I still killed one of them. And I'm not proud of it, and I've spent seasons repenting for that but he worries that it was a sign that I'm not right." She wipes at her bleeding mouth roughly. "I'm fully aware that I'm a mess, but I'm not a psychopath. My work is everything to me, it's the reason I'm /alive/, Cas. I know I'm not pleasant to be around but that doesn't mean that I'm evil." She sniffs and pushes off against the bricks to continue her slow progress down the street, one paw still on the wall.

Castus moves to stand in front of Samara. The gesture isn't meant as challenging, or confrontational. He just puts a paw in front of her, stopping her from taking a step, looking at her with a gesture that's less sympathy and more... understanding. "Sam," he says quietly. "I believe you. Okay? I can't judge you. I've killed /way/ more than just one creature I maybe probably shouldn't have. That doesn't make /anyone/ crazy. Just... someone who's made mistakes. Like we all have. And will continue to do. But I know you're not insane, or mad, or... bad. Just remember that."

Samara nods, her small capacity for emotional real-ness all but depleted. She remembers the look on Mag's face when she killed the raven - he hand't seen the horror show in the attic, he had no way of knowing that it was a justified action and the way that he had looked at her then had been almost a perfect match of her father's that day. She clears her throat roughly. "Thanks...really. So whose mother did you dishonor?" And, in her true form, the subject is changed.

"Ahh... /might've/ been the mother of a prosperous brickmaker with some rich connections in town," Castus says with a grin and a shrug, as he usually does. "What can I say? Her husband divorced young, a son too busy even to pay her a visit, herself still so full of youth and vigor... probably best your fight interrupted me when it did, actually. Otherwise I'd be father-in-law to someone even younger than me. Or maybe I'm exaggerating, and I'm so completely terrified by the thought that I don't live an exciting life I sneak out every night and come home with a lie every morning."

Samara snorts and puts a paw on his shoulder, a rare gesture coming from her. "I'll believe this one, since you were nice. You just pulled a violent botanist out of a bar fight, I'd say that your life is at least a little exciting. Hell, you crossed a desert to pull that idiot out of a bar fight, what isn't exciting about that?" She pats him on the back and points up ahead. "At least we made it back to this kitschy hell-hole. Will it hurt your chances with your lady love if I bleed all over the couches?"

"Pfft. No. I've got Lyana wrapped around my tail. But she's /nice/, you know, I mean legitimately /nice./ I'm sure she'll help when we get back. You /are/ bleeding a lot, so let's try to pick up the pace." He hurries her to the door, opening it open and bustling inside. True to his word, Samara is instantly descended upon, not just by Lyana herself, but any decent passers-by with a bandage or two to spare. "Oh, you poor thing!" she blurts out. "Come, come in, I'll get the iodine!" Castus gives Samara a knowing, 'I told you so' wink.

Samara rolls her eyes as she is babied all the way to the couch. She hates it when Cas is right - or when anyone is right, for that matter. It is, however, unfortunate that the hustle and bustle peaks a father's instincts. "What the /hell/, Samara?!" Lacuna offers by way of an announcement of his presence. Before he can open his mouth to go off on a tangent, however, Sam raises a paw. "Save me the lecture, I've learned my lesson and in having the living snot beat out of me - in an incident which was /actually/ not /entirely/ my fault this time - I've come to fully understand the points you made. And while I also believe that your understanding of my character cannot be complete when you have not seen me for 2 seasons, I accept this new development. Now, may I also say, that if you wanted me to learn /restraint/ and dull a fighting spirit, that my /aunt/ was the /worst/ choice of mentor. Now, this being said, please do not spoil the rest of our time together by lecturing me and being cross. I am going to pass out, now, but I will be up again very shortly." She leans back on the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut. Lacuna blinks at his daughter, and then turns to Castus. "I - ahem. She, um... Who was she fighting?"

Castus glances at Lacuna, rendered just as speechless as Sam's father. All he can do is say one thing: the truth. "... Some guy who bumped into her earlier today."

"Some.../Some guy/, some /random/ guy got her like this? I know she's small but Sammy can be quite the little spitfire. Which -" He rubs at his forehead, sighing. "I am sure you know already..." Lacuna takes a cloth from one of the beasts helping and sets to cleaning some of the blood from Sam's face. His face is tired and defeated. "Does the other guy look this bad, at least, or do I need to go find him and finish the job myself? Though that would just make her angrier, I'm sure."

Castus can't help but crack a smile, as inappropriate as that may be at the moment. "Oh, don't worry. He's not gonna walk straight for a few weeks. He learned his lesson... with a little help from Sam's friends," he says, buffing a paw on his chest. "Sir, your daughter /is/ a firebrand, that much is true. She picks fights more than she should. But I've been traveling with her a long time. And I've come to trust her, and I think she trusts me too. I know no father should see their child like this, but... I know Samara can take care of herself. Even with all the trouble she gets up to."

Lacuna nods with a small smile. "Thank you. I'm glad that she made friends of you and Magramba. She's told me a lot about you two, and while I can assure you she will /never/ admit it: She values you both. I'm glad she made friends..." He strokes his daughter's head gently, gently feeling the lump rising on the side. "....Do not...." Is Samara's response as she flutters back into wakefulness. "My head hurts..." She whines, touching the spot tenderly. "Don't talk about me while I'm sleeping, it's weird."

"Do I?" Sam sighs, waving a paw to bat away all the caring hands. "I am going to sleep." She pushes herself upright, ignoring the protests ringing out around her. "Calm down, I'll live, I'll live." The botanist grumbles, using several beasts, including Castus and her father, to steady herself as she rises. "Good night. No, no, I can do this on my own. Good night." Lacuna is left, shaking his head with a sigh. "She is /just/ like her mother." He laughs. "I think that's what worries me. I'm going to go keep an eye on her, thanks for your help." The older squirrel says this to all those gathered before following his daughter up the stairs.