Practice Makes Perfect

A pleasant outdoor afternoon. Rue practices small talk. Monty practices drawing. Adrian talks about practicing fencing. Everyone thinks a little bit about a beast they wish was there.

Salamandastron: Crater

• -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* Salamandastron *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You are on the very top of the mountain of Salamandastron: a large, bowl-

shaped crater. The crater is not smooth, quite the contrary in fact.

Numerous boulders and large chunks of rock are strewn around randomly,

making the crater top just as craggy as any of the mountainside. The

crater provides an outstanding view of the surrounding country. The sea

sprawls off to the west as far as the eye can see, and north and south

along the endlessly rolling sand dunes. In the distant east, a tinge of

green is just visible from this height, marking the vegetation in the

foothills of the Western Mountains.

• -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

                 Visible Exits:

[N]ortheast [M]ountainside [Down] to Third Level

The edge of the crater is a jagged, uneven line against the sky; one could be forgiven for missing Rue's silhouette among the cracks and crags. She sits in a rocky nook, one leg on the inside, one on the out, and stares at the eastern horizon with her characteristic squint. She holds a ceramic mug against her stomach, and a crudely carved driftwood pipe between her teeth. The steam from the tea and smoke from the pipe mingle together and drift out across the crater, kissing the wind with the scent of chamomile and lemongrass and tobacco, and strange exotic spices that are unnameable in these parts.

After having been up here a couple of days ago, Monty seems to have taken a liking to the secluded spot. Despite the exposure to the outdoor weather (which now thankfully seems to be relatively clear), and the sound of the winds swirling about above, the hare found the area to be quite pleasant and generally peaceful; a good spot to sit and think, and also perhaps work on his sketching. The young buck silently makes his way into the area, sketchpad in paw along with his drawing pencils, and he finds a spot coincidentally near to where Rue is currently sitting. Settling himself on the floor against the wall, Monty opens up his sketchbook to a page he had been working on earlier...a sketch of his new friend Jinora. He had been planning on giving it to her as a thanks for her help lately.

They say "Two's company, and three's a crowd," and so it is that this little group on the crater becomes a crowd, when Adrian makes his appearance. "Well, I didn't expect ta find yah up here, Monty, wot. They finally let ya outta tha bloomin' Infirmary?" He peers out to sea. "Lovely view, ain't it? Like mah ol' Uncle Abernathy used ta say... "Nevah miss a chance ta stop an' stare at the scenery, wot!"."

The sounds of clattering rock, knocked aside by footpaws, catch Rue's attention quickly. Her head turns almost quick enough to give her whiplash, and she watches Monty and Adrian approach with a careful gaze. She is silent for now, inconspicuous; a still shape against the sun, smoke curling lazily from the side of her downturned mouth.

Monty glances up, startled, as Adrian suddenly appears...though he does smile in response, though he quickly switches the page on his sketchbook so as not to show what he had been working on. He still isn't quite confident yet in his drawing abilities enough to really show anyone just yet, it seems. "Oh, uh, hey Adrian!" he replies to the other buck. To his question, he gives a slow nod. "Yyyyyessss. Somewhat. I've been allowed to, er...to wander the mountain a bit, as long as..." he scratches an ear...."As long as I behave myself, I suppose," the buck shrugs. "Not quite sure what that means, but...I'll take it." He still isn't aware of Rue's presence, though he does catch the occasional scent of her tea, and the smoke from the pipe.

Adrian continues looking out at the sea, before turning to look Monty in the eye. "Behave, eh? Well... I 'ave no doubt ya can manage that at least. 'Ow are ya feelin'?"

Rue finally decides to make herself known by nudging a small pebble with her boot until it dislodges and tumbles down the gentle slope towards Monty and his companion. One paw removes the pipe from her mouth, the other applies the mug. “Blighted kind o' them ta realize such” she says, nodding at Adrian. She does her best to keep the sarcasm from her voice, but doesn't quite succeed. Change is a process, after all. “Aye. How's tha fight goin', bucko?”

Monty chuckles softly as his eyes turn down to glance at the blank pad of paper currently sitting on his lap. "Yes, I don't think it was much of a problem before, so I should be okay. I'm on my best behavior, of course." As the pebble rolls its way down to come to rest against Monty's foot, the buck glances upwards to spot Rue sitting there. His expression noticeably brightens, as he waves a paw to her. "Hey, Rue!" To both her and Adrian's question, he gives a light shrug. "Oh. Well, it's..." he pauses..."It's going, I suppose. Had a couple of, er...emotional breakdowns...over the last couple of days, but...nothing that was in danger of harming anyone. And nothing that I don't remember, so...a step in the right direction, I guess?" He picks up a pencil, and begins to make light markings on the paper. "Took up drawing, though, while stuck in the infirm. It passes the time well enough."

Adrian glances down at the pad with interest. "A worthy pursuit, wot. One o' mah sistahs is an artist." He looks up toward Rue, shading his eyes from the sun with his paw. "Ahoy there, Marm. Enjoyin' the view?" The buck crosses his arms, nodding at Monty again. "I'd say, bein' no expert mahself, that it does sound like improvement, which is bloody good news."

Though she could, Rue is not about to claim to be an expert on such matters in mixed company. And so she remains quiet on that front for now, instead focusing on Adrian and his choice of words. Poor buck can't seem to catch a break from her. She's barely grown accustomed to Ma'am, but Marm? Rue glances once more out across the great expanse of the horizon, before lifting herself to her footpaws and half walking, half sliding down to meet them. “Decidedly not. Not a bloody thing happenin' out there, wot.” She glances at Monty and offers the ghost of a smile as a means of support, but that's all for now.

Monty noticeably winces as Adrian refers to Rue as 'marm', and he makes a throat-cutting gesture to the buck as if to say 'no, no, no, bad idea'...he is well aware that Rue isn't too fond of the title. Luckily for him, the other buck seems to be spared her fury for the time being, as she slides down from her perch to stand near them. "Ahem. Yes, well, er...I suppose it is improvement, I do feel a lot better to be honest. As long as I stay out of the mess hall. Or the training room. When others are there." Not really elaborating too much on that for the time being, he moves on to his drawing. "I'm nowhere near what can be called 'good', but...I've been practicing and such. I've got a couple of things I'm working on, but..." He shrugs, as he lifts the paper to peek at his previous drawing.

Adrian looks at Monty strangely when he makes the gesture, though he remains fairly oblivious. It's not as if he means anything in particular in his use of the word "marm"... It's just the way he talks. Being in the Patrol has taught him that all those of a superior rank or an age older than himself are either addressed as "Sah" or "Marm", without exception. "'Good' is in the eye o' tha be'oldah, wot. Subjective. Ya know, one time I decided ta take up whittlin' ta impress a pretty doe named... Eh, name's unimportant, actually... As is mah tale of whittlin' wood..." He trails off. "Wot *does* mattah, though, is that practice is ev'rythin'..."

The buck does not need to elaborate in order for Rue to understand him, being a pariah herself, albeit, a self-appointed one. “Othahs. Pah. You're in an army, lad. As long as ya can fight well and follow ordahs, wot's it mattah whethah they let ya join in their...leveret games or wotevah.” She waves a paw dismissively at the idea of privates and younger hares, sticking the pipe back between her molars. She eyes Adrian with flinty eyes but keeps herself composed. “Yah've already got tha ordahs down...and fightin'? I've yet ta see, but practice will get ya that at least.” The doe can't speak on the nature of practice as it applies to art.

Monty flips to the previous page in his sketchbook, which is the sketch of Jinora, and he begins to flesh out more of the drawing so that it begins to develop into something more recognizable. He keeps his eyes lowered to the sketchbook as he works, Rue's words receiving a soft, "Yes, I suppose you're right. I don't mind not being included in things. Honestly, if I were someone else I wouldn't include me in things either. I guess I've just not quite gotten used to being stared at and whispered about." His shoulders give a light shrug, a very light frown upon his muzzle. To Adrian, he gives a brief nod, "Well, I've certainly had plenty of time lately to practice pretty much anything I want, heh...it gets insanely boring just sitting in that room and staring at the walls."

Adrian frowns at Rue's words. "Eh wot, now? Are ya sayin' then ya won't join me for a pint of ale in Recreation Room, then? I 'ad considahed askin' if ya'd be interested in learnin' ta fence... It's not nearly so... In yahr face as boxin'. I c'n teach ya some pointahs... If ya're not interested, though... I undahstand..."

Shouting orders is something Rue has found herself very capable of doing, but comforting soft-spoken beasts? Nurturing self-esteem? She had not been aware that they were part of an officer's job description. She grimaces and falls silent at Monty's comments, puffing on her pipe and contemplating her tea. It is during this reflective moment that the doe registers Adrian's words. She pauses, unsure if she had heard correctly, and then looks up at the buck, eyes wide and brow furrowed. She is positively incredulous, and more than a little skeptical. “I beg yahr pardon?...Fencin'?” She asks, inclining her head.

Monty continues to work on his drawing, falling momentarily silent as he does so; his ear has folded itself against the back of his head at the point, though he shows no other signs of falling into one of his breakdowns...he just seems more caught up in his work than anything else. The tension between his mentor and his friend though seems to be quite palpable, and he chances a glance up at the two to make sure that the situation didn't get out of hand. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Rue..." he responds, voice still soft. At least he hopes he didn't. "Adrian, I doubt that Rue really needs much training in anything. She's been around for awhile..." he chuckles.

Adrian nods his head. "Fencin', yes. I 'ave been told that, for a Private, I am one of the finest swordsbeasts here. I figure the Majah was exaggeratin', quite a bit, but still... I fence to keep mahself from lapsin'. I favor the rapier, mahself. Light, easy ta manage. Good for quick, close quartah attacks." He looks down at Monty. "Trainin' Rue? I'm sorry, not ta seem rude or anythin' to 'er... Beggin' yahr pahdon, Miss Rue..." He glances her way, briefly, "But I 'ave no intention wotsoevah of trainin' 'er, because ya're absolutely right, she *can* take care of 'erself." He crosses his arms. "I was talkin' 'bout *you*. You are a fightah, wot? But boxin' causes ya ta lose control? Swordplay, on the othah paw, is all about control, mate. It requires... Nay, it demands finesse. Least, that's wot mah ol' instructah used ta say."

“Fencin'...” Rue begins, her voice agitated, but after a pause to reconsider, she dulls some of the cut in her words. “...Is all well an' good if that's how ya choose ta spend yehr days. Variety's th' spice o' life after all, innit?” She pulls on the last of her tobacco, then knocks the ash out on the heel of her boot. The corner of her mouth tightens in what could almost be mistaken for a smirk. She then tucks the pipe into her trouser pocket and warps both paws around her tea. Her ears swivel and twitch. She gulps down a mouthful of the stuff.

Monty apparently seems to have misunderstood who Adrian's words were directed at. He rubs at the back of his head with a paw, expression turning concilliatory. "Ohhhh. I apologize, I thought you were speaking to her, heh." He gives an ashamed smile. "Heh...well, now that you mention it, perhaps the fact that I prefer boxing over anything else may be a factor in my issues. A lot of the time, things are made much worse when it involves having to fight, and I think just learning to control that impulse in general, whether it be through fencing or something else, will likely be helpful to me." The buck turns his eyes to Rue. "And I'd also quite appreciate it if you could assist me in learning how to control myself while boxing. That's a reason why I haven't sparred with anyone. I...honestly have no idea what might happen if things got a bit, er...heated... during the match." Turning his eyes back to his drawing, Monty frowns as he merely stares at it.

Adrian smiles, a little. "Not sayin' it oughta be ya life choice, or anythin'... I just find, for mahself at least, that fencin' is a great stress relievah." He folds his paws, watching the other buck.

“O'course...” Rue mutters quietly, fingers tapping against the ceramic mug. Her tongue taps against the inside of her teeth, and her eyes seem strangely eager, but she holds back whatever it is she wants to say. Instead, she turns to Adrian, and says “Wotevah it is ya decide ta teach 'im, I do 'ope ya widen yahr own horizons beyond wot it is gentlebeasts think of as fightin'. A rat dinnae listen when ya tell 'im 'on guard,' wot.”

Monty smiles and nods to Rue. "Oh, good. I just want to make sure that I don't repeat my previous mistake of confronting someone in the ring who would likely completely destroy my face with a single punch." Shaking his head slowly, Monty smirks a little. "I still can't believe I was dumb enough to actually go face to face with, and actually take a swing at, Collin. Granted, I also wasn't all there at the time either being that it was right after we'd returned from the swamp. But still...I am lucky he didn't decide to teach me a lesson and totally smash me into the ground." He goes back to working on his drawing as he speaks to Adrian, "I understand your intention, Adrian, and I do appreciate it. Perhaps you can show me a bit of fencing sometime, I'm sure it won't hurt at least. At this point, I will take all the help I can get."

Adrian glances at Rue again. "Indeed they don't. I generally 'ave ta teach 'em ta lissen th' 'ard way." Smiling at Monty again, he lets out a bit of a laugh. "Collin? Not a bad buck, really. He's not as terrifyin' as 'e may look."

A surprised, sputtering laugh escapes Rue's lips, and she stops from any further pestering she had planned for Adrian. He gets points for comedy. Whatever semblance of good humor quickly disappears, however, when she hear Monty recount his tale. She has never met this 'Collin,' and so doesn't comment, but at his mention her ears cease to swivel, folding flat against her skull instead. She tucks that little bit of information away for later.

Monty gives a shake of his head, attention focused on his drawing as he speaks. "He was the first buck I ran into when I first arrived here, and was very kind to me. Believe me, I never would have even thought of doing anything like that if I were in my right mind. I just came here to do my job, I have no intentions of trying to hurt anyone here at all. Despite everything, I still do love it here, and nothing has changed from when I first arrived...I've spent my entire life training to be here." As he continues to work on the drawing, it is becoming quite obvious who it is of, if of course one were to know who Jinora was. "I don't want to do anything to risk me having to leave."

Adrian is pretty well acquainted with Jinora, and he notes the resemblance... Though he makes no comment, merely observing the other buck's work. "Just remembah, mate... Yah've got friends here, that will stand by ya no mattah wot." He looks at Rue when he says that. "Both of us, certainly. I'm sure there's othahs..."

Rue senses Adrian's gaze out of the corner of his eye, and hesitates before meeting it. When she does her expression is...well, it's not exactly pleasant, but it's less suspicious than it has been on previous occasions, so that's something. “Yahr lucky, Bucko,” she says to Monty. That's his nickname, it seems. “Yah're young yet; got a whole career ahead o' yah ta bury this little chaptah o' your life in. There'll be plenty else fah beasts ta remembah ya for, wot.”

"Thanks, Adrian, I do appreciate that. And, I really hope so, Rue...I really do." Monty smiles. Having apparently finished the drawing, Monty decides to go for broke and show his two friends his work. He's at least assured that out of everyone in the mountain, they won't laugh at him. Taking a deep breath, the young buck lifts the sketchpad up and turns it around so that they are able to see it. "Okay, since you two are my friends, I want your honest opinion of my first drawing. What do you think?" He holds his breath, turning his head away with eyes squeezed closed and ear lowered as he awaits their opinions. "Don't worry, I can take whatever you dish out. I know it's not the best...but I'm practicing!"

Adrian leans in closer, studying the drawing with interest. "Not bad at all, mate! I can actually recognize the doe in question, wot. Ehh... A little rough, 'ere an' there, but that'll improve, ovah time."

“It's...ahh...it's squiggly? Oh, I suppose that's tha fur, innit?” Rue snorts a self-concious laugh. “I'm no judge o' artwork an' wotnot, but s'bettah than anythin' I could evah make, lad. Ya can be sure o' that.” Adrian's critique seems much more useful. She scratches the fur beneath her tunic where it bunches at the seams. This whole socializing thing...there is a reason she usually spurns it. “Is it a beast I should recognize?”

Monty seems to accept the offered comments. "Thank you! As I said, I'm still new to this whole...thing...but the more advice I get, the better I think I'll get at it. Though to be quite honest, getting better at it likely means being stuck in the infirmary longer, so...I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or not." The buck grins a bit at Rue, "And how do you know, if you've never tried it? I think you could be quite good if you ever decided to try." Upon hearing Rue's question, his head tilts a bit, as he turns his eyes back down to his drawing...and of course, a bit of his awkwardness begins to show itself. "Er...well, um...I'm not...sure if you've met her before. But...eh...it's, um...it's Corporal Jinora." The buck smiles. "She was, heh...she was up here...the last time I was...here. I had...one, er...one of my breakdowns...while we were chatting. She...helped me." Monty shrugs. "She, um...she also let me...tag along...last time she went on patrol." That odd nervousness seems to pop up at the strangest times.

"Of course she'll like it, wot." Adrian replies. "I knew Jin back when she was still a Private... Course, I'm still a Private, mahself... But yes, I think she'll like it, a lot, mate."

Rue highly doubts that she could be a skilled artist of any sort, and she looks at Monty with a grim face, pointing to her missing eye as evidence of this fact. But Monty begins to speak before she can comment further on the matter. Her remaining eye dances between he and Adrian, lips pursed and tongue tutting against the roof of her mouth. “Corporal Jinora...Corporal Jinora. She seems to be comitting the name to memory, as she had done with Collin. But beyond this, she seems to have lost interest in the conversation. Interpersonal relations are not her strong suit, and she's not the type to sit around mulling them over. She glances up at the sky, and noticing the pale pink beginning to intrude from the west, mutters a foreign swear under her breath. “Well!” She announces, crossing her arms and beginning to wander away. I'll leave ya lot ta yahr gossipin'” She tosses what might pass for a wink on a two eyed beast over her shoulder, and beats a hasty retreat away from the smalltalk.