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 Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2009 8:27 pm
Hazel's feathers flared wildly as the petite Deep Woods became even angrier. "...How dare you say such things! How dare you disrespect the elders, myself included, like that! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you?" she hissed angrily, her ear tufts flat against her skull. Oh, how good it was that there was nobody around to see the dignified old Teacher behaving like an irritable combatant. "Maybe it's just too complicated for you to understand- indeed, it seems that most of your generation only cares for the here and now, only cares for the present. Your deepest concerns are what you'll kill tomorrow evening and when you'll see an Artisan for some tuft-styling next... the future of the clan as a whole is of such little importance to you!" The tree branch was gaining bald patches at an alarming rate. "Chestnuts and their attempts to salvage their type from the ravages of history are the very picture of courage, while the Deep Woods who have willingly given up their societal standing to assist them epitomize selflessness, and THIS is why! How much ignorant prejudice must we tolerate, and why is it so hard for the general population to understand? We try to teach, but the education... it does nothing!" With an annoyed clatter of her beak, Hazel shook her head violently and glared at the much-larger Wildtype. She didn't feel the anger dissipate; this was one of her own students berating her. She knew her violent outburst was unbecoming to a lady, but frankly... she didn't care. Let him tell the others that Old Hazel had gone crazy. Let him report to his superior that the once-refined Deep Woods had gone all Abberant-friendly or whatever exactly it was he thought of her. Let them reprimand her! She'd take on all of them, starting with her former student!
Or not. Suddenly, as she was preparing to fly at the male, what was left of her good judgment pulled her back. What was she /thinking/? This was insane; the Scout was younger than her, stronger than her, and much, much larger than her. She was too old for this sort of nonsense; no, the best thing to do now would be to fly away with what was left of her dignity intact. The fire drained from her voice, replaced with an icy chill. Hazel sniffed deeply, accentuating the sound by drawing herself upright and preparing for takeoff. Now was the time to use what authority she thought she still had to end this conversation *now* and be on her way before this actually did escalate to actual violence. "Good evening," she said, emphasizing each word with leaden tones. It was clear that this was unspeakably rude behavior, but right now, she didn't care. She didn't have much patience for those who refused to understand her decisions, her sacrifices... the fact that this was one of her own pupils made it all the worse. She thought she'd educated those fledglings. She thought she'd managed to impart to them the vital need to keep the old Minor Types alive; hadn't the plight of the Irons been enough to demonstrate to them the importance of preservation? Didn't the Coals' mysterious black eyes captivate them in ways untold? Here in this Scout was living proof that the old ways of the Clan were truly dying. She would have to impart this concern to Hollysong sometime; it seemed that education was truly wasted on the young sometimes.
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Posted: Wed Aug 26, 2009 8:31 pm
Ashton kept holding back his talons, his snapping retorts, his whole body from attacking Hazel. That Sentinel whose lessons he actually paid attention to were well-remembered. He tried repeatedly to make himself heard: “Wait, that’s not what I said”, “You misunderstood me”, but none of these were heard.
The Wildtype didn’t understand such anger when he didn’t show any ounce of aggressiveness. In such occasions, he would usually give an explicit warning and attack… but where’s the honour in attacking someone smaller, older than you? Heck, assaulting her was the last thing he wanted to do, and he was afraid he might have to resort to that if she started it. He wanted for her to stop talking. Then he took a deep breath, and spoke in return, calmly, but gravely, a very unusual way for him to express himself. “Wait. Please wait a minute, ma’am. I never insulted you. Or maybe I did, but I really didn’t mean to. You might be right; maybe I don’t understand what you’re talking about, why it is so important to you.”..Indeed, he didn’t. Outside of his immediate family, he didn’t care at all about bloodlines and arranged mating. His own father had left his mother alone with 3 helpless chicks without a warning, and he never quite understood why either. He’s not sure things would have turned out better if it was some parent who had ordered them to become a couple. He decided himself, at such a young age, to take care of his remaining family. Though fortunate enough to be born the “best” type in his eyes, he had to lead his very own battles to grow up into a self-sufficient individual. As far as he knew, no family member showed up and ensured they lived a comfortable life. “Maybe I don’t get it, maybe I don’t pay enough attention to what you think is important. But my very own person is not the one that counts the most in my eyes. If I were only caring about myself, I’d be an average hunter and have fun with my team all night. However, my community is more important. My family is more important. Many rabbits, many squirrels, many things I catch, will help feed someone else. All the information I gather, no matter how boring it is, will contribute to maintaining peace and control over the forest. The loneliness I endure was not chosen because I hate people; believe me, I suffer enough from not being able more than a fraction of my life with Sentinels.”
He sleeked his feathers and lowered his eartufts further. “I’m contributing to the Clan in such a way I won’t hinder anybody. I’m sorry if you consider that helping such a small group that can’t survive without so damn much planning, is more important than ensuring the well-being of everybody else. Maybe it wasn’t such an exaggeration. Maybe you’re not much more than Deep Woods who do more match-making and plotting than actual contributions, on the pretence of their birthright.” He thought shortly that if all Aberrants became as self-righteous and asked for their right to preservation just like these older families, chaos would reign quickly on the community. Courage is not rebuilding what you’ve lost yourself, but the others, knowing you won’t get anything in return. At least, Ghosts had the excuse of their numbers… the last thing healthy Sentinels needed, was having special snowflakes plan their own offspring’s life for generations in their own corner, away from the other people’s life.
Ashton turned away, not looking anymore at his old teacher. “I’ll go back to work. Good evening”, he replied dryly, while hiding his disappointed face. Ready to take off, he was already flapping his brown and green wings.
Even when he couldn’t remember all her lessons, he’d really believed he understood her.
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