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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 26, 2017 21:16:11 GMT -5
If there was one think Ash couldn’t stand, it was waiting on someone else. It drove him mad that cadets were expected to be at the training grounds at a certain time, but the trainers seemed to think they could show up whenever it suited them. At least, that’s how it seemed to him. What was the saying: If you were on time, you were late? His father had said that to him once when he’d arrived just in time to meet curfew and still got grounded.
Glancing around he noticed how the other cadets had broken from rank and were now milling around in small groups. Some were even still eating their breakfast. Only he was still standing off to the side. Where was the discipline? Probably off with the trainer, wherever she was.
Sure, just leave the cadets to wait, and gossip. Let them get fat and lazy, then see how seriously raiders will take us then…
Absently he fingered his black armband. Why didn’t anyone seem to care they were still waiting? Swallowing tightly, he crossed his arms and glared at no one in particular.
“Where is she?”
“Aw Ash, give it a rest,” one of the cadets nearby snapped. There were a few murmurs of agreement, though most just ignored the prickly teen. This was not the first time he’d indicated displeasure with a trainer. Most seemed to think it was easier to let him stew than actively engage him.
“She should have been here by now.”
“Ya know, people have lives outside of training… normal people anyways.”
More murmurings of agreement, and more than one glare shot Ash’s way. He pushed down the stinging feeling rising in his gut. No one understood where he was coming from it seemed. Which was hard for him to understand, since he wasn’t the only one to lose a loved one to raiders. Shouldn’t they be taking this more seriously? They were training to be in the Long Patrol, one of the first lines of defense for Mossflower. Or they should be, if anyone would show up.
“Punctuality is important,” he argued. “It can mean the difference between life and death.”
“Alright, first of all, we’re not out in the field yet so no, this is not a matter of life or death. Second, she’s not bloody late, so shut up Ash.” Yet another cadet spoke up, her eyes flashing as she stood up. Ash uncrossed himself and shifted, preparing to meet her head on. It was then that Ash noticed movement at the Hall’s entrance.
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Post by Tracy on Jun 26, 2017 21:39:20 GMT -5
Ripley knew how to do her job and she knew how to do it well. Her job was not teaching though, as far as she was concerned. There were few, if any, hares in Salamandastron that had Ripley's working knowledge of Mossflower, so some commanding officers thought she may be able to relate her knowledge to the recruits. They were probably wrong.
Her trainees were subjected to a lot of maps and culture lessons. Language lessons. Tracking lessons. It was usually more of a classroom than a training ground, and she didn't blame them for hating every minute they spent in her presence. Honestly, unless they were all dropped into Mossflower alone and made to figure it out, they weren't going to really appreciate a word she said.
If they thought they were bored or stir-crazy with it all, they may have an inkling of Ripley's frustration. Today was going to be a little different.
Smoothing out her tunic, Ripley walked into the training hall. Most of the teenaged trainees were already taller than the small scout. All the females were, only a handful of the males still had a growth spurt ahead of them. Her size had had never done much to hold her back before, and it certainly wouldn't be today.
"Everyone grab training staffs and pair off," she said upon walking in, not finding it necessary to exchange any greetings. A cursory glance told her she had an uneven number and already knew there would be a leftover. She casually walked across the compound to pick up a staff of her own, waiting to see what unlucky sap would be the one left after the trainees paired off.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 26, 2017 21:59:58 GMT -5
Ash held in a frustrated groan when he saw it was Ripley who would be teaching today. The young hare struggled in her classes on language and culture. Grammar was difficult to master in another language, because it never made sense to him. Shouldn’t it just be a straight translation of the vocabulary? Apparently not if his scores were anything to go by. Then there was culture, and that could be the pits because he mixed them up all the times. Moles and voles, west versus east, it all got so confusing. His brothers never had to learn any of this stuff, so why should he? Of course, when he complained to Irving a few weeks back about it, all he got was a cuff to the head for being disrespectful.
The other trainees had stood up when Ripley walked in, showing her due respect. Of course, Ash thought that this was the only kind of respect they usually showed. Everyone got a little stir –crazy during one of her lessons, and there would be a lot of whispering and note passing. Once a cadet actually fell asleep during a map lesson. Ash never knew who to be more annoyed with: The trainer for teaching such boring lessons, or his classmates for not taking it seriously.
But there was no denying it: Ripley knew her stuff. Ash just kind of wished there was another way to know what Ripley knew.
Everyone grab a training staff and pair off.
Ash barely had time to blink before everyone had stepped away from him and toward someone else. One of his fellow cadets smirked at him, and he scowled back. So what if no one wanted to pair up with him? Having the trainer’s full attention could only benefit him.
Full attention…
Ash swallowed hard against the sudden flash of fear that sent ice racing down his spine. Pushing down circling thoughts about failure and expulsion, he walked over to the training staffs and grabbed one for himself, before returning to his spot. Everyone stood apart from him, and watched with knowing eyes. It was clear who the poor sap would be today. He braced himself for what he knew was coming.
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Post by Tracy on Jun 27, 2017 17:37:46 GMT -5
Ripley stood off to the side a bit, absently watching as the younger hares paired off, twirling her own staff casually over her wrist while she was thinking. Her morning conversation had her thinking about the Mountains of the North, one of the few places she'd never been. It was not a location that Long Patrol kept in its rotations for a few reasons. For starters, it was just too far away, sitting well above the northern fringe of Mossflower. And it was just a mean, dangerous place, made of tough creatures from all over the spectrum. Even the good, well-intentioned beasts did not tend to need the assistance. It was a land that took care of its own.
As all her trainees were settled and paired, the haremaid stopped twirling her staff and looked around at them. Frowning momentarily, she finally said, "Everyone tell your buddy your birthday. Whoever is coming up next, go up against that side of the compound. The later ones go to the other side." Before Ash, - who she had already noticed as the odd one out - could ask, she nodded briefly at him, indicating he just wait.
With some confusion, they all complied and it was less than a minute before Ripley had two even groups. "Good," she said agreeably. "Now find a different partner in your new group." That was followed by a large amount of sighs and rolled eyes as they again complied. Ripley smiled at their distress. She was not interested in letting them all pair off with their best friends. That was life anyway; especially if they wanted to be soldiers.
"Fleetfoot, over here," she beckoned the lone hare. She'd spent some time pretending not to remember their names, but had given that little endeavor up quickly enough. The scout didn't just know all their full names the moment she met them, for the most part she could place their familial ties. This chap here was the youngest of a gaggle of brothers and she also knew their mother had died not too long ago. "Everyone, get some space and practice your sparring," were Ripley's only instructions to her class. This was decidedly unusual as the haremaid was not a combat trainer. "Just try not to maim or kill or I might lose this really cushy job," she added dryly. Other than that, there was no further explanation.
The others gladly went into duels, most of them happy enough to be an in active combat class instead of identifying edible berries.
The scout pivoted her violet gaze now back to Ash. Without preamble, she said quickly, "There were three and ten stoats and two rats. Eight were armed. No casualties. They had three old squirrels, a hedgehog couple and a baby mouse. They were thirty meters north-northeast of the clearing."
Ripley twirled the staff over her wrist again, then wielded it in a duel stance. "Ready?" she asked, then before he could think over what she said too much or ask her questions, she struck out with the staff.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 27, 2017 18:09:43 GMT -5
Ash listened as she gave instructions to the class on how to pair up. Unable to resist, he smirked a bit when she broke up the usual pairings. Served them right. Sparing with a friend always turned into a joke match, or at least it seemed that way to Ash. Still, it was bit awkward waiting as everyone sorted themselves out. But judging from Ripley’s expression, Ash was supposed to wait for her to get back to him.
Fleetfoot, over here.
Obediently Ash went over to where she indicated. Internally he shook though. When did she learn his name? He tried to think if she’d ever called on him during class before. He wasn’t much of a troublemaker… Well, he wasn’t a troublemaker in her class. Didn’t talk much, didn’t pass notes, didn’t fall asleep…
Calm down ninny, she probably knows everyone’s name…
It was hard to calm down though. Ash didn’t like it when the teacher knew his name: They generally didn’t remember for good reasons.
"Everyone, get some space and practice your sparring,"
While it was clear today was going to be weapons practice, Ash was still a little more than surprised. Ripley was so… academic most of the time. Sometimes he forgot she was a warrior, and could oversee weapons training. Though, those instructions weren’t exactly a flushed out lesson plan.
Sounds of wood hitting wood quickly filled the hall as the other cadets took to her instructions. It was then that her attention turned to him him. Blue eyes looked into violet ones and Ash gulped. This was it. Squaring his feet, he gripped his staff with both paws gripping it in a defensive position. She might be short, but only a true fool would underestimate Ripley in a fight.
"There were three and ten stoats and two rats. Eight were armed. No casualties. They had three old squirrels, a hedgehog couple and a baby mouse. They were thirty meters north-northeast of the clearing."
It felt like the blood in his body didn’t know whether to pool at the bottom of his stomach, or rise to his face. She had heard him. That had to be the only reason she told him that. She was late coming because she was doing what the Long Patrol was supposed to and-
There was a staff coming at him. And Ash, caught up in thoughts, was nearly too slow to meet it with his own. Only, as usual when he was caught off guard, he miscalculated and the staff hit his left paw.
“Ouch!”
Instantly he let go of it on that side, and his defense essentially crumbled as he tried to hold back the oncoming strike with a grip that wasn’t positioned right to hold a staff at that angle. His left paw aching, his attention divided, only one thought crossed his mind.
I’ve really mucked it up now.
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Post by Tracy on Jun 27, 2017 19:36:40 GMT -5
Ripley turned the staff to the side, not going after him again when he dropped a paw. She actually let out a genuine bubble of laughter, shaking her head. "Ouch? In a real fight, you're probably dead now, and your last word is 'Ouch.' At least be creative with it." She grinned, shaking her head as she leaned with her paws wrapped around the staff.
She took a moment to glance over at her class, making sure no one had been knocked unconscious yet. However, whoever was training this lot in weapons knew what they were about. They probably liked the job, even. There was sloppiness in the trainees' inexperience, but their defense was pretty on-point. Well, mostly. She turned back to Ash.
"Alright, again," she said, pivoting so she used her off-side left paw in the dominant position. She struck out again, giving the younger hare a chance to spar properly. Ripley moved quickly and decisively, but managed to keep her swings light and controlled. She wasn't interested in hurting him, more so in wearing him out.
After a few minutes, when her opponent was becoming visibly exhausted, she said, "Okay, stop!" as he made a wide middle swing. She dropped her own staff in the process, not parrying but instead ducking straight under the swing. If she couldn't show off just a little, she wasn't going to make it through these lessons.
When Ash stopped swinging his staff, she kicked hers back up in her paws and leaned herself around it again. Watching him for a moment, she lifted her eyebrows. "How many hedgehogs were there?"
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 27, 2017 20:42:12 GMT -5
"Ouch? In a real fight, you're probably dead now, and your last word is 'Ouch.' At least be creative with it."
Ash scowled at the rebuke. That had hurt, and the way he figured it, dying would probably hurt too, so ‘ouch’ wasn’t a completely unexpected last word. Maybe not an epic speech, but who was he kidding: There’s no way he’d be able to give an epic speech, even if he wasn’t dying.
Still, pain was no excuse to stop fighting. Weapons Master was always telling them that. No enemy stopped because you were hurt: That’s probably when they pushed the advantage. Ash resettled into a defensive position.
Alright, again.
This time he wasn’t completely off guard when the staff came at him. Block, parry, side strike, block, overstrike, block, block, block….
A natural rhythm came over Ash, and he felt himself relaxing a bit as the exercise continued. His strikes may have been a bit harder than appropriate, but he was mostly in control. Ripley’s defense was good though, and he lacked her level of endurance. In time he grew winded. It was during one of his side swings that she called for a halt. Unable to reverse it, Ash felt a tingle of horror at the idea he might be about to hit a trainer after she’d called break. Only, the hit never came as she dropped beneath his staff, dodging without any apparent effort. As soon as she was clear, Ash lowered his staff, panting at the exertion.
"How many hedgehogs were there?"
Ash started at her for a moment in utter confusion, before realization hit. Unthinkingly he verbalized his thought.
“It was a bloody word problem…”
All this time he’d thought it was a recounting of what she’d been doing, and it was a word problem! Part of him wanted to growl in frustration. He nearly did, before sense came back to him. It was a word problem he hadn’t answered yet. Crap, how many hedgehogs had there been? He remembered stoats, and rat, and there was a mouse…
Better answer vaguely, and hope he managed to hit an acceptable answer.
“I mean, a couple.”
Please, please let that be right…. [/b]
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Post by Tracy on Jun 27, 2017 22:29:48 GMT -5
"Yes, a bloody word problem," Ripley answered. Given his surprise that this was the case, it was to her own surprise that he followed it up with the right answer. "Excellent. How many creatures altogether?" she continued. "Hold that thought."
Before he could answer, she trotted over to a dueling pair and beckoned them to stop. Taking the shoulders of one of the haremaids, she turned her so she couldn't see her opponent. "What is Blakely's dominant paw?" Ripley asked the younger haremaid.
Looking at Ripley like she'd grown a second head, the younger haremaid still promptly replied, "Right."
Ripley smiled. "Are you guessing?"
"It seems like a good guess," she answered honestly.
"Who was Blakely's initial partner?"
The haremaid opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again, face screwing up in thought. "I--um. I think it was, ah--what's-his-face with the--"
"It was Garrick you nit," the other haremaid, presumably Blakely, said in annoyance.
The trainee being questioned swung around, throwing Blakely a withering look, hissing, "She didn't say you could help!"
Ripley shrugged in response. "I didn't say she couldn't." When the trainee in question didn't have a response to that, Ripley dismissed them. "That's enough you two, go on and join Fleetfoot."
Ripley made her way around, asking similar questions of the different dueling pairs before sending them off to be with Ash. She'd gotten through all but one pair when she returned to her little congregation. Of the two hares still dueling, one was the aforementioned Garrick, a handsome and popular young hare who'd absolutely annoyed the stew out of her in their last lesson. He was also getting his tail kicked by his opponent, and Ripley had very little desire to end that.
Walking back over, idly spinning her staff again, she returned her attention to her own partner. "So how many were armed?" she asked him, as if she hadn't asked him a completely different question earlier.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 27, 2017 23:09:52 GMT -5
"Excellent. How many creatures altogether?... Hold that thought."
Oh thank Lord she hadn’t realized his answer was pulled out of the air. But now there was an even more difficult question to consider. How many had there been? What numbers had she said, there was a ten, a… what was that she said, two rats? No, but it was close enough. Two hedgehogs for sure. There were a lot of stoats, but Ash figured he’d already counted them. The vermin had been a big number, the hostages a small number. There were definitely two hedgehogs. So how many did that make?
Ash wished he wasn’t panicking over this question, because it was making it really hard to count.
“What’s with the all the questions anyways? Who’s gonna actually be able to answer them?”
Ash looked up to see Blakely and another cadet had walked over to his area. Which was confusing to him, because most people didn’t break rank to talk to- Oh wait, they weren’t breaking rank. They’d been sent over. A little ways away Ripley was quizzing another student, and another pair were making their way over. More people to distract him, just peachy.
What was with- oh.
Ash knew this one. Every so often Wendell gave him a quiz on something he said randomly a week ago to see how closely he’d been paying attention to the conversation. Ash figured this was something similar.
“She’s seein’ if we’re payin’ attention to our surroundings before we-”
“Nobody was asking you Ash,” the cadet talking to Blakely interrupted. Her name was Aurora. Ash used to think she was cute, but after that note she passed last month that the teacher read in front of everyone, that impression had faded.
“Nobody said he couldn’t help,” Blakely replied snidely, crossing her arms. For some reason this caused Aurora threw up her arms with an annoyed huff. Ash glared at her. What was her deal anyway?
I didn’t even- Crap, my numbers!
What were they? Ten, two three, eight, one…
There was only one duo left. Garrick and… the name escaped Ash at the moment, but they were winning. By a pretty wide margin. He smiled at that. Served Garrick right for falling asleep during map reading.
“Holy Crap, Ash is smiling,” Blakely sniggered, nudging one of their fellow cadets. “Must be the sign of the apocalypse.”
“Shut up Blakely,” Ash snapped, glaring at her. Before the situation could devolve into further sniping, Ripley had returned.
"So how many were armed?"
… Well Ash had no clue on that one. She’d said it, but with all the numbers buzzing around his head, he didn’t really remember which one belonged to that group. Best guess and get the humiliation over with.
“Ten.”
At least his voice was confident. What was it Stiles said: If you act like your right, nobody will call you on being wrong? Ash didn’t think Stiles’s philosophy on life was going to help him with Ripley, but it was worth a shot.
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Post by Tracy on Jun 28, 2017 22:18:04 GMT -5
Ripley laughed. "I mean, I know you're guessing, so does it matter if you're right or wrong if you don't know if you're right or wrong? If we were on the field, and I ask you, how many of those stoats and rats have weapons, would you honestly just make up a number?" She didn't sound angry or disappointed with Ash's answer and her question seemed sincere. "It's not as though you're going to sit there an' count them anyway. Fifteen stoats and rats, eight were armed. This isn't a math lesson - tell me half of them were armed."
She gave a small twirl of her staff again, looking over her shoulder at the two cadets she'd left fighting. Her long black-tipped ears pivoted a bit, listening in to the muted conversations around them. "At least you overestimated their strength, that's certainly the better option," she added almost absently.
"Garrick! Harlow! Come over here," she called, bringing her last two to a halt in their sparring, to the very visible relief of Garrick. Harlow, a hare a solid year or two Garrick's junior, was trying not to look as pleased with himself as he was.
"Garrick," Ripley asked loudly as the two hares approached the group. "What direction is the sandstone quarry used to build Redwall from the abbey?"
The winded hare gave her a puzzled look, not having realized she'd been quizzing the other trainees all this time. What did that question have to do with anything. "South," he answered tiredly.
Ripley turned to the other hare. "Harlow, why did Garrick get that question wrong?"
Harlow slid a sideways glance at Garrick, cleared his throat, and answered carefully, "Respectfully, I'd prefer not to to answer."
Ripley knew she liked Harlow. Garrick got the answer wrong because he was sound asleep during a lesson on Mossflower last week. She knew that, Harlow knew that. Garrick definitely knew that. She winked at Harlow, accepting his answer, and did him the additional favor of pretending not to notice the color that rose into his cheeks as he looked away.
The haremaid had volunteered to assist with one-on-one combat lessons before lunch, so she was ready to wrap this lesson up early. Normally she would never volunteer to do more of this, but teaching weapons was usually fun, and it gave her permission to cut this short. "Alright, anyone who can name a past badger ruler can leave. No repeats, so get your answers to me quickly."
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 29, 2017 16:04:18 GMT -5
"Alright, anyone who can name a past badger ruler can leave. No repeats, so get your answers to me quickly."
“Are you serious,” Ash snapped at that, looking at Ripley incredulously. “That’s it? After gettin' up at the crack of dawn, and waitin' for you to show, that’s it? A lesson that could have been summed up in: Pay attention to your surroundings, but don’t get caught up in the details?”
The last five minutes had run quite the gambit of emotions for the young hare. First there was embarrassment, then a small feeling of gratitude, followed by-if he was honest with himself- a bit of smug validation. But the crushing disappointment that the lesson was going to end early…
“Is there really nothing else you can teach us? Anything to actually make this day worthwhile?” This was around the time the bitter sarcasm started to enter his voice. It was also around the time all the other cadets took several huge steps away from him. “I mean come on, it was mostly a bunch of lack luster sparin’ which is pretty much par for the course for right before dinner, but after a solid midday nap. Ya know, really get ‘em fightin’ juices goin’ and make room for said dinner. So essentially, by gettin’ the saprin’ done with early, you just sped that process up- but is that really the best you can do with this time? I mean, we’re supposed to be trainin’ here and your skippin’ out early on us?”
It was at this point he finally wound down enough to breath. And perhaps it was those gasps of oxygen that helped spark the recognition in him that all that had been said out loud, loudly, directly to Ripley’s face, while the entire class watched.
He promptly stopped breathing.
It was dead silent as the room processed what had just happened. Out of the corner of his eye, Ash could see the other cadets looking at each other. It was remarkable, in that no one made a noise, but everyone came to an agreement at the same time.
Nobody wanted to be here for what happened next.
“Brocktree,” Blakely broke the silence. Without waiting to see if it was accepted, she ran out the door.
“Urthstripe!”
“Boar… the Fighter!”
“Sunflash!”
The names came quick and fast, often on the heels of a fleeing hare. Harlow and Garrick were last. A kind friend, Harlow quickly whispered a name in Garrick’s ear.
“Ashstripe!”
Garrick was gone. Harlow smiled softly at Ash, but his eyes said he deserved what he got.
“Cregga Rose Eyes.”
Then Harlow was gone.
Of course, Ash knew that he should probably apologize, or simply say a name and slouch away in quiet disgrace. It was just… he wasn’t wrong. Where was the effort? Did Ripley even care she was responsible for training the future members of the Long Patrol? These thoughts obsessively circled Ash’s mind. So, instead of doing the smart thing, he did the stupid thing.
He stood his ground.
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Post by Tracy on Jun 29, 2017 16:54:21 GMT -5
At the younger hare's initial outburst, Ripley didn't react much. She actually looked a little tired, and momentarily ignored him while his classmates quickly blurted out their answers and ran out of all to enjoy the rest of the morning. It was the perfect morning to be outside and as soon as she could shake this self-righteous thorn in her side, she'd likely join them.
Slowly, she slid her violet eyes back to her student. Still, she didn't look angry, just quiet and considering as she tried to figure out how to explain the situation to him. "Has it occurred to you," she started slowly, "why a private in the regiment would be teaching a class? I am not an officer, and there's not a single other private who teaches cadets." She walked away from him as she spoke, picking up a few discarded staffs, and straightening up the collection of them.
"So why? I'm just so special? Such a great teacher?" She shook her head a little. "You evidently know the answer to that well enough," she said dryly, looking over her shoulder at him. "I was told to do it because almost none of the lower commanding officers have any real working knowledge of Mossflower. Sure, they can point to Redwall on a map, and they know who the Guosim are, and can identify some of the otter holt communities."
Sighing, she rubbed her paws a bit, brushing off some sand and turned back to him. She leaned against the stone wall, still cool in a room starting to grow warm. Crossing her arms and her ankles, she canted her head to the side as she did earlier. "And that isn't their fault. You don't promote in the Long Patrol because you know how to communicate with the Sparra birds in east Mossflower. You don't become officer because you know every spot on River Moss that grows wild rice when the river thaws in the spring."
"Most of you don't need - or clearly want - to learn this information. You won't retain it or use it. You'll use me. You'll use the one, maybe two of you in this class that actually care about it. That's my job. Find the one or two of you that actually care. Because at the end of the day, even those that are passionate about it aren't learning this sitting inside this mountain. I didn't."
Ripley let out a breath, throwing her paws up. "If you're one of those, great, I'd be plenty happy to relay my knowledge to you. But the fact that you're standing here now and not immediately taking the opportunity to run outside outside on a summer morning tells me you're not."
There's your lesson, kid.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 29, 2017 17:47:10 GMT -5
Throughout Ripley’s speech, the most remarkable this happened: Ash actually listened. It might have actually been the first time she’d had his full attention since he started her classes. And with every passing word the anger seemed to ebb out of him: And with every word, that desperate aching in the bottom of his stomach just grew. Because Ripley was right. He could still feel that swat to the head proving she was right. He had complained about how useless all this information was to someone who was going to spend their entire life in the Mountain, serving with the Salamandastron division of the Long Patrol…
Why was he so desperate to prove that this class mattered to her? Why was he so desperate to prove that this all mattered to his classmates?
His face felt numb as she talked about officers, and what it took to get promotions, and how little anyone cared about what was outside the mountain… Had he ever thought about outside the mountain? Beyond the coast, and into Mossflower proper? His thoughts turned to his father, who used to lecture nightly on the importance on the defense of the mountain. Back when his mother had first died, but he was still around
We’re the first line of defense, and that has to be taken seriously. There’s no room for childish antics like the one you pulled today…
Because at the end of the day, even those that are passionate about it aren't learning this sitting inside this mountain. I didn't."
She hadn’t, had she. There were rumors about Ripley. About how she had a run away, and that she’d run wild for a time. For the first time, Ash was envious of her for that… He hated her for that. Because she hadn’t let anything stop her.
Whenever Ash thought of running for the hills, he only saw his father, sitting crumpled in a chair: Failing to keep any semblance of composure while the Squad’s Captain had delivered the news. When he thought of blowing off training to actually enjoy the day, he saw the faces of his brothers, stressed and disappointed after being told he'd gotten into yet another fight. They were all trying so hard to be adults when they were still dealing with her death…
Just do as you’re told, alright! Don’t make this harder than it has to be…
You have to join sooner or later. It’s just gonna be sooner for you…
You have to make us proud Ash. That means no more mess ups. Quite screwing around, and get in line already…
"If you're one of those, great, I'd be plenty happy to relay my knowledge to you. But the fact that you're standing here now and not immediately taking the opportunity to run outside outside on a summer morning tells me you're not."
“Yeah?” Ash responded for the first time. At some point his eyes had drifted down, his ears had drooped, and his posture had become anything but defiant. Yet there was still a spark of that anger in his voice, that consuming fire inside him that never seemed to burn out. “Maybe leaving’s not as easy for some of us. Some of us having something to keep us here, and we’re not allowed to be selfish and go on adventures whenever we like! There are…they… Some of us just can’t walk away from what we’ve got here like it’s nothing!”
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Post by Tracy on Jun 29, 2017 20:27:09 GMT -5
It seemed briefly like her words may have seeped through Ash's thick teenage skull, but Ripley wasn't terribly surprised to see his anger and attitude rally for another shot. She glared at him in exasperation. Whose bright idea was it to put her in charge of these adolescent fools?
"What are you trying to do? Turn this into a competition for whose life is harder?" she started in on him sharply. "Quit acting like it's a competition you're determined to win! So what happens here when you convince me your sense of duty is so much higher than mine, huh? I'm pretty sure it ends with you still being unhappy."
She knew she should probably stop. Trying to reason with a teenager was hard enough, and she knew he'd recently lost his mother to boot. That was awful, but loss happened to Salamandastron hares and Ash really needed to stop walking around like he was the only victimized creature on the mountain. "I never said I wasn't selfish. I was a very selfish teenager and I made a decision to live for myself. Now I'm happy with my life. Will you be?"
The haremaid watched him for a moment, then shook her head and headed for the exit.
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Post by Luna Broadblade on Jun 30, 2017 17:27:44 GMT -5
"I'm pretty sure it ends with you still being unhappy."
Ash slumped against the wall, those words repeating in his head. Was he unhappy?
Watching Ripley leave, he reflected on this question: On his life in general. She had a point. What was he trying to prove?
Am I unhappy?
He didn’t want to answer that question. There was an obvious answer, but if he admitted to it… that necessitated change. And Ash wasn’t sure he’d be able to deal with those consequences just yet.
Standing up, he brushed his paws off and headed to the exit. A walk should clear his head. Wasn’t like there wasn’t plenty of time for one of those before he was expected back. And it wasn’t like anyone was going to notice he’d left for a good long while.
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