• 1 - 25: Item grant: Garghon Feather x 1 - Used in tailoring patterns and enchanting. • 26 - 90: Item grant: Garghon feather x 3 • 91 - 100: Item grant: Garghon feather x 10
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"Aster!" Quince's voice was loud and ringing, sending out echoing waves spanning what certainly seemed like great distances, from where Rose stood at his side. Despite his continued efforts, there wasn't an answer. Their calls had gone on for hours, long enough that Roseryn grew tired of screaming at the trees and receiving nothing in response. The red-head trudged at his younger brother's side, wincing with every yell Cici let out, a constant stream of complaints held at bay only by the dire seriousness of the situation.
When the golden fronds of the trees were dimmed to a dusty bronze by the sun's fading light, Rose murmured, "It's getting late..." Wherever Aster had run off to, it certainly wasn't here, and surely the Ysali boy wasn't so stupid as to have strayed so far from base with no idea where to head to.
"So you just want to quit," Quince retorted, his voice scratchy and tone clipped from the day's use. It was plain to see that he was becoming frustrated, both from their lack of success and the lingering underlying reason for Aster's disappearance to start with. "It's my fault," he rumbled. "I shouldn't have invited him. If he hadn't come- If we hadn't come-"
"Nonsense," Rose scoffed. "We should count ourselves lucky that we were allowed to be here for this. It could've been much worse. He could've been alone."
"He's alone now. And you're suggesting we leave it that way."
The red head grabbed his brother's arm, swinging him back around so that they were facing each other. He planted his palms on Quince's shoulders, giving him a little emphasizing shake. "I'm not," Roseryn swore. "I just want us to think practically. It's getting late. We don't have shelter. We don't know the land or its inhabitants. I'm not saying we couldn't get out of trouble if it found us, but I am saying there's no reason to leave ourselves prone to it. Cici, let's turn back for now. He might already be there... And if he isn't, we'll make our way to Ashen City in the morning. Surely someone there will possess some sort of scrying ability."
Against Quince's better judgement, the pair headed back to the cabin, but not without incident. The night brought forth one of Serenia's predators. The creature that emerged from the depths of the nearby bushes was long, sleek. It's pelt was dark, dappled in dark purples and greys that would conceal it in the trees' shadows. It lunged, rumbling out its discontent for two-legged children being so close to its hunting ground. Rose was ready, and as the creature neared, he flicked his rapier out, prepared to slice through fur and muscle and be done.
Cici would have none of it. The younger lad generally kept a cool head. He wasn't aggressive or violent or even particularly mean. But the day's adventures had worn on him. Before Roseryn had a chance to advance, Quince was plowing past him, swinging his two-handed sword with finesse rivaling a boar.
Some piece of the elder boy felt disgusted as the beast's head was loped off, plopping to the ground with a muted 'thunk' and a splash of red. Another piece felt concern for his younger sibling's mental security; it didn't suit Quince to be so frustrated. In the end, Rose stepped up behind him, taking hold of his shoulders and guiding him forward and away from the mess with a grumbled, "Let's go, already..."
If it was possible, the cabin they returned to seemed even less inviting with only the two young Dovaa to occupy it. The lights were dimmed and the only sounds came from the wilderness around them. It really did feel remarkably... empty and lonely. "Stop worrying," Rose insisted as he settled back onto the couch at Cici's side. "Worrying never accomplishes anything, you'll just tire yourself out."
"I can't just stop," Quince argued. "I mean, I would if I could, but... what do you think he's thinking right now? Aster isn't the soundest of souls. He really could want to do something drastic and then just... do it. He'll get into trouble. He'll hurt. I just-" His head found its way down to his knees as Cici coiled his arms around his legs. "-just want for things to stop sometimes. We, as a family, can't keep going on like this. It's impossible. It's debilitating. And we all know how you feel about that."
Rose huffed, shoving his younger sibling over into an undignified heap of Dovaa on the couch. "You're so dramatic. I'd hardly call the strain involved in our lifestyle 'debilitating.'" He shrugged. "So there's a lot expected of you- of us. It's exactly as it's always been, and I don't think Father is likely to change anytime soon."
"You can't even function properly around other people. Father has your leash so tight, you won't even breathe without permission. That's debilitating. Aster apparently had too much leeway in his youth and he was disowned for it. And I don't want-" Cici sucked in a breath. Even in the dimness of them room, Rose could see him trembling like a leaf in the wind, despite the younger boy's efforts to collapse in on himself. "That's it. I just don't want." His breath stuttered, and Rose's skin prickled with an uneasy feeling. "I don't want to be out here by myself, and I don't want to leave my home, and I don't want Father to hate us, but he does. And he hates Mother and we're all just little disposable toys to him, and I don't... I don't want to do this anymore."
His words came out in a tumbled rush of air, voice lowering and crackling with each syllable. By the end, he was sobbing, shaking and holding himself, face tucked into the cloth of the sofa cushions in some piteous attempt to stifle his emotions. And as far as Rose was concerned, Cici was right. The older brother didn't know how to interact with others, let alone how to console a crying child outside of settling in at Quince back and wrapping his arms around him. "Sh, Cici," he whispered on a murmur. "Nothing of the sort will happen to you. It'll be alright. You'll see. Trust me. It'll be alright..."
