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For a typical day on the Imisus coast, this was just as boring as it could get. There was no wind to blow through his hair, steal away the smell of the soot and char that he was covered in. No breeze to push the sea foam off the crest of the wave and into his face. Chauhn blinked. And then Chauhn sighed.

Yes, this was just another typical day. He reached into the water once more, dipping his fingers and palms into the cold water of fresh stream flowing into the sea. He was on his knees, leaning over a stream where he wanted nothing more but to clean off every particle of ash from his body. The pouch upon his neck, the remains of his brother, so feather light, and yet so very heavy, was carefully thrown over his shoulder so that it was against his back, safe from the threat of water. The youth brought up a handful of water quickly to his face and rubbed it all over, feeling the grime slid down his contours and into the sand. It was so relaxing to just wash everything away, pull it all off and start fresh, start anew. The sea, just a few yards away, was gentle, rolling in and out, providing a calming soundtrack to his breathing. Chauhn made it a habit to wash his face every morning and every evening, especially after a hard day of work.

But, to Chauhn, a hard day of work was a typical day, just a normal boring day on the coast of Imisus, and yet he still could make a simple fifteen minutes worth of face washing at the stream a special activity.

Alright, so perhaps this wasn't going to be a typical day.

Usually, loneliness was a big part of the daily routine, so much so that at the appearance of another lad, roughly a year or two older than himself, Chauhn couldn't help but startle as he lifted his hands from his face to see another one just across the way. He stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out the nature of this lad before him, before he realized that he was staring rather bluntly in his direction. Giving a bit of an embarrassed chuckle and a quick clearing of his throat, Chauhn dismissed the appearance of the other like it was a regular meeting at the ocean's inlet.

...But there was that red.

Chauhn, in his glance at the other boy, noticed the red of the apples in the arms of the stranger, getting settled down gently against the sand of the stream. His gaze lifted up again from his dirty wrists in the water, straying helplessly to the apples. They were glowing dimly with the settling light of the day. He hadn't eaten anything but two stale pieces of bread that day coupled with half a pear and the last dregs of dusty bottle of wine. He was hungry. As Chauhn stared at the apples with the glazed look in the eye like a goat eying a nearby apple tree just out of its tether's reach, his stomach gave a loud grumble. Slapping his hands to his gut to quiet the sound, he dug his fingers into the many layers of fabric he had around his self.

"Looks like we have things in common," Chauhn said meekly, giving his humblest smile, "We both lack a good wash basin."

Chauhn gave a smile in return, his dirty cheeks covered with smears of soot and ash. He was completely covered in black, from head to toe besides what little he was able to wash off in the river. He shifted his legs, his worn boot heel knocking into his brooms and rods, which were wrapped up in a nice bundle. Looking back to make sure the bundle hadn't come undone, he gave another meek chuckle, agreeing with the lad on the opposite side of the rivulet, "Ripped o' lined wit' grime," the boy added on.

As hard as he tried to keep his eyes away from the gleaming red, Chauhn found that his gaze kept returning. An emptiness swelled up in his stomach, the kind of emptiness that was always there but somehow didn't pay attention to until that point. Chauhn licked the dry skin on his lips. He entertained thoughts of leaping up and snatching one of the apples, of running away and eating the red red fruit in the safety of a dark corner like an animal...But he was not like that. He was a Clemmings. Clemmings were honorable folk who worked hard for their meals and their way through life! That was the Clemmings way. Reaching for his necklaces of pouches that hung around his neck, one for holding what little change he earned and the other to hold what was left of his brother, Chauhn plucked out two hard-earned copper pennies.

Glancing up at the other lad, Chauhn said, his voice very shy, but strong with hunger, "'Ey, sir. Would ye spare an apple for me? I ca' pay ye for one. Two pennies? I'm dreadfully hungry."

On his chest, the little pouch gave a sleepy wiggle. Chauhn slapped his hand to his breast, clapping the pouch into stillness. Fleeting looks of nervousness flashed over his face. His brother's ashes have been moving a lot...Moving. That was stupid. Regardless of what he thought, though, the pouch kept sighing and wiggling. Chauhn hoped that the other didn't see the little flap of movement from his necklace. Instead, he played it like he was just holding his chest out of hunger.

Shaking his head, Chauhn reached forward for the apple with the copper pennies regardless. As soon as he took the fruit from the other, he pressed them into his palm. "No, no, ah insist. Very littl' few have kindness like you do, sir. Most days, everyone in the city hoards food all to themselves and leaves the bruised and rotten ones for the other urchins like meself." he said, cradling the apple in his palms. He was careful not to let the apple touch his soot-soaked jacket or fall into the stream.

"Sure, sure. Not noble in nothing but yer heart!" Chauhn said, wiping his hand on his jacket, intending to reach over and shake his hand in greeting. Once he realized his mistake, he gave an embarrassed smile, feeling rather lame for taking so much effort to keep his hands clean. He put the apple into his mouth, biting down on it just so much so he could hold it, and leaned into the stream, once more wiping his hands free of ash and dust. He shook them weakly, trying to get them dry enough for a handshake, but it was only then that he realized it was a useless effort. "Ah...eh...Ahah...ahm hanh hemmnsh." Chauhn took the apple out of his mouth and tried again, "I'm Chauhn. Chauhn Clemmings."

Glad that his money was accepted, Chauhn settled back on his haunches, happy that things were going swell between them. He liked to enforce the Clemmings way: humbleness and honesty, that was the way to play the world. Lifting the apple to his mouth, Chauhn couldn't help but smile dumbly as he took a bite. The crunch was as comforting to Chauhn as a gold piece. He savored the first bite, chewing as if it were the first apple he's had within ages, before he gorged out half of the apple with his voracious appetite. If he didn't have to pause and chew, he would've eaten the apple within a few seconds.

Taking a moment to breathe and wipe his sleeve against his mouth, effectively dragging a black smudge across his face, Chauhn furrowed his brows at Georgie. He was acting odd. Distracted was the word. Patiently waiting for Georgie to finish his sentence, he listened as he dwindled into silence, glancing over his shoulder.

"Georgie? There's someone wit' you?" he asked, leaning his body to the side and lifting up his hat with one hand. He squinted his eyes. He didn't think he saw anyone. The beach was long and empty behind him, dusted with colors from the evening. "Ah don't see no one."

Chauhn shook his head at the simple request. "No, no trouble at'll, Georgie. Be glad to 'elp," the boy responded. He was kind enough to give one of his apples to him, and humble enough to accept his small tokens, so it was nothing short of decency that the sweep would accept without a second moment's thought. This lad was looking for his brother. His brother. Chauhn, of all people, should've recognized that face, that gaze of concern and worry, that distractedness. Sticking his already half-eaten apple into his mouth, he got up from the beach, wiping his legs of sand and leaning down to hoist his heavy bundle of sticks and brooms over and onto his shoulders.

Shifting the worn leather strap into a comfortable position around his shoulders, Chauhn hopped over the stream onto the same side with Georgie. Managing a bite out of the apple as he pried it from his mouth, he chewed and swallowed in record time. "Ah also have a brother, he's my younger brother. They're hard t' keep 'n place aren't they? But that's fine, that's why we older brothers are here!" The bag on his chest wiggled, in seeming response to the mention of 'brother'. Chauhn purposefully turned away as if to look across the beach head.

Taking another bite from his apple, nearly two bites away from being done, Chauhn, wiped his mouth across his sleeve again, effectively smearing his face with even MORE soot. "He was tha' way? Last time you saw 'im?"

Walking alongside his slightly older acquaintance, Chauhn kept an eye constantly surveying the area around him as it turned from sand to wind-warped and scraggly trees. Roots burst out in mad coils from the sand, gathering what dirt they could into their wraps. He was glad he had shoes on, despite the fact that they had patched over holes and tears, because walking barefoot on this kind of sand would undoubtedly cause some slowing. There were all kinds of brambles and twigs hidden in the folds of the sand. Lifting his feet carefully through the sand, and keeping a wary watch out in between his steps and the area around them, Chauhn made his way, his bundle of sticks jostling slightly with sound on his back.

"Snide youngsters they are, eh?" Chauhn said, squinting his eyes. It was no help that the sun was quickly setting behind them, casting the warped woods into a dancing mess of shadows and bright highlights of orange. Rubbing at his nose, he gave a sniff. "Gotta keep a' eye on them no matter wha'...Clurie nev'r listens to me, but ah reign 'im in. Keep 'im close." He gave a brief touch to his chest, where his brother's ashes hung against his breast in a tightly tied leather pouch. He glanced to Georgie, unknowing of the pair of legs above him in the curled broken branches, "My little brother's name is Clurie."

The pouch of ashes gave a wiggle, as if to respond to the mention of it's former state of being's name.