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avariel-wings.livejournal.com2008-01-05 12:08 am
(no subject)
My contribution to Rossi's drabble book.
*******************
"Kurt, stay with your sister. And keep her away from the bonfire!"
Eleven-year-old Kurt Wagner sighed as his mother moved away, attending to her duties as the wife of the clan leader. It wasn't that he didn't like looking after Gemile, it was just... she wasn't old enough to do anything fun yet, even if she could walk - more or less. And that meant he couldn't either, while he was watching her.
Stefan never got left with the babies, not any more. His brother was thirteen and a half, almost a man, and he got to talk to people at the feasts without them coming to him. He was treated like a grown-up, too. Not like Kurt, only past his eleventh birthday by a matter of days. The boy stared moodily into the fire - and then realized, barely ten minutes after his mother's injunction, that his sister was no longer sitting next to him.
"Gemile!"
When he saw her, he moved faster than he ever had in his young life, tackling the toddler to the ground just in time to keep her hand out of the flames. She blinked up at him, confused, affronted and possibly a little bruised, then made up her mind and started to wail.
"Sssh, ssh, jel'enedra, I'm sorry. Sssh, you'll bring Mother..."
Glancing around nervously, trying to see if they'd already attracted attention, there was only one thing he could think of to distract her. His tail flicked up, waving in front of the little girl's face.
A few moments later, when his tail was clenched firmly in one chubby hand and being determinedly gummed, he almost regretted it. But only almost. She'd stopped crying, after all.
*******************
"Kurt, stay with your sister. And keep her away from the bonfire!"
Eleven-year-old Kurt Wagner sighed as his mother moved away, attending to her duties as the wife of the clan leader. It wasn't that he didn't like looking after Gemile, it was just... she wasn't old enough to do anything fun yet, even if she could walk - more or less. And that meant he couldn't either, while he was watching her.
Stefan never got left with the babies, not any more. His brother was thirteen and a half, almost a man, and he got to talk to people at the feasts without them coming to him. He was treated like a grown-up, too. Not like Kurt, only past his eleventh birthday by a matter of days. The boy stared moodily into the fire - and then realized, barely ten minutes after his mother's injunction, that his sister was no longer sitting next to him.
"Gemile!"
When he saw her, he moved faster than he ever had in his young life, tackling the toddler to the ground just in time to keep her hand out of the flames. She blinked up at him, confused, affronted and possibly a little bruised, then made up her mind and started to wail.
"Sssh, ssh, jel'enedra, I'm sorry. Sssh, you'll bring Mother..."
Glancing around nervously, trying to see if they'd already attracted attention, there was only one thing he could think of to distract her. His tail flicked up, waving in front of the little girl's face.
A few moments later, when his tail was clenched firmly in one chubby hand and being determinedly gummed, he almost regretted it. But only almost. She'd stopped crying, after all.
