#stop implementing more characters into kaen's lore challenge ( impossible )

[strywoven]

closed. / @millionsnife

It must bear resemblance to his brother , the way Kaen hides behind a SMILE , the way they lick their wounds and pretend the taste of blood isn’t there at all ( a learned habit , one could say ; if it’s not killed them yet , then surely they must be doing something right— ) .  The greatest lie they ever tell is saying there’s NO LIE TO TELL AT ALL ; that there’s nothing to worry about , that they are … Completely f i n e .

❝ … Wha’ ‘s he gonna do , Dyn’lo ? ❞  Practiced is the motion , the splitting of flesh / the letting of blood.  Red rivers drag slowly down freckled skin , collecting in a half-open palm , drip-dripping beyond the gaps of fingers and flecking the floor at their boot.  ❝ Get mad ?  Tell me t’stop ? ❞  Fingers twitch , they cut another mark into their arm , reopening an old scar.

The Dustling turns his head , scowling , eyes pressing closed.  For nearly three decades he’s served his post with this human , through everything that came their way , despite anything that happened , and yet t h i s he cannot find the stomach for.  ❝ I don’t claim to understand what those vile creatures think , but if there is SOMETHING to be done — ❞

❝ — Leave it alone. ❞

He can’t , they both know this.  ❝ Is that an order , MASTER ROLAV ? ❞  Kaen grimaces , recoils at the moniker he spits at their feet , plain in its disapproval and warranted d i s g u s t .  Still , he catches their eye as they glare at him through the veil of fiery tresses , his stance straightening when they clench their blade all the t i g h t e r .  He recognizes the anger ( it has been part of them since they came into life ) , but it seems overridden by misery ; he’s in no danger here , not like they are.  ❝ Do you intend to make me stay and watch you carve up your own carcass ?  I assure you I won’t. ❞

❝ Ah dun’ wan’ ‘im involved , Dyn’lo , ❞ Kaen grits out.

❝ A pity , ❞ The Dustling mutters , ignoring his master’s further protestations , bounding across the room and out of the open window before Kaen can think to rise and stop him.  Dyn’lo catches the Independent outside , as usual , tending the fields under the late-noon suns.  With a warning craw , the beast descends from the air to perch upon the fencing , fur and feather ruffled.  ❝ I’d not task myself to endure your company , ❞ Plain enough is his disdain for Knives ( a learned disposition , to be sure ) , ❝ Nor would I be so bold as to make demands of you , however … If you care for my Master , as I believe you do , then p l e a s e , come see to them. ❞  Serious , warbling tone is marked by a concerned hitch , furless face creased with furrows of OBVIOUS WORRY .  ❝ They are not well. ❞