A couple little drabbles...
May 26, 2014 4:12:21 GMT -5
Post by Crystal M. V. Rosepaw on May 26, 2014 4:12:21 GMT -5
Decided to give you guys a couple little pieces I did one night as a writing exercise, looking into Kaede's childhood. Thought they might be of some interest to someone. ^^; Though I guess I should mention that I decided to use Japanese as Kaede's native language for two reasons... One, it's the only other language I know, and two, it's the origin of her name. So... Yeah. xD
Green paws. She’d ended up with green paws even after trying to prevent it. The young fox stared at her appendages in confusion, the sound of dripping dye filling her ears. How did Mother come back every day without multi-colored fur? Wiping her arms on her dress absently (thankful that it was dark brown for once), Kaede watched the bolt of fabric she had just hung up drain onto the grass below. The ground below the balcony was always stained, and was one of the kit’s favorite sights. Her own personal rainbows; even better, she had helped to make them.
“Kaede!” She looked away, peering around the opened door to watch her mother bustle about the shop inside. Right. They had a lot of work to do today. She didn’t have time to watch the color drain. But as she went inside, she remembered her stained fur. The kit squeaked a response as her mother called for her again, hiding her paws behind her back. The vixen turned to her, pulling up her sleeves again with her teeth as she turned, arms precariously balancing today’s frantic work. “White thread, please, sweetheart.”
The elder Mistweaver moved away to put the dress down on the table, and Kaede waited until her back was turned to go to the shelves. All of the threads were placed in sections based upon their intensity, with the darker ones being lower to the floor. Unfortunately, even as she rose to her full height, she was unable to reach the shelf the lighter threads were placed upon. Hoping in place, she was delighted as she felt the soft material against her fingers, but looked in dismay as she realized she had instead taken a pale yellow. Looking up again, she realized that, in her haste, she had pushed the one she needed farther back.
With a squeaky growl, Kaede snatched up one of the empty crates stacked nearby that had once contained the vials of dye, grunting with exertion as she placed it in front of the shelf. Mother needed her help, and she’d receive it. Pulling herself onto it, Kaede still had to stand on the very tips of her footpaws to reach it, but, finally, she had the spool in her grasp. She turned in over exaggerated delight of having triumphed over the task and… promptly forgot she had been standing on something.
Fearful dread pooled in her stomach as she placed her weight on open air and went tumbling to the floor. Yelping in panic, the kit threw a paw over her face to cushion the impact, but as she fell, she felt her jaw pop painfully as it connected loudly with the unforgiving floor. Another yip erupted from her, along with a thready whimper at the smarting pain as she realized she had bitten her lip. Pulling herself into a disheveled kneel, she looked up as she heard worried steps approaching her.
Dizzy from the collision, it took her a moment to focus on the face of her mother, which she gave a weak smile to. She’d done what she had been asked to do though! Ears still ringing, she held up the spool of thread happily, eyes glittering. But as she unwrapped her little claws from around it, she knew her error immediately. There sat what was once white thread; yet, from her stained grip, it had turned a pale, sickly green. Already watery eyes suddenly overflowed as her shoulders dropped, her ears flattening weakly. Though she had tried, Kaede had messed up even a simple task.
But Mother was forgiving, as always. Forgetting the ruined material, she crouched to be level with her child, and even as the kit averted her gaze, Kaede felt herself being pulled closer. Before she had time to question it, she was breathing into the soft material of her mother’s shawl, the scent of hard work, tea, and warm fur filling her senses. Looking up, though the tight grip around her back made it difficult, she mumbled out an apology. “Gomennasai, okaasan… Watashi wa suru tsumori wa nakatta.”
“Daijuobu, Kaede,” her mother responded, petting her back through her dress reassuringly. She slumped in her parent’s grasp, content to sit there and breath in the calming scent of her mother. After a few heartbeats, her mother released her, looking at her seriously. “Ki o tsukete kudasai.”
Kaede nodded, unwilling to let her mother down. Of course she’d be careful! “Un,” she hummed.
As her mother stood up she took the thread, looking at it carefully. “It’s only this layer that is bad. The rest is white. Don’t worry.”
The kit sighed, grateful that her mistake was easily reversible. Pushing herself upright (making green prints on the floor, though she did not notice), she looked to her mother, ready to receive another order in the attempts to repair the garment. But her mother had other ideas as she looked at her child critically. “I can finish this up quickly. If you could though, can you please go ask Hanako when she needs tapestries done? I’ve forgotten.”
Before another word could be spoken, Kaede was bolting through the door, allowing the momentum of her motions to close it behind her. She barreled onto the balcony before rushing down the stairs, eager to assist her mother in any way she could. With blatant disregard, the fox kit pulled herself over the fence, determining that altering her course to the gate was wasting precious time; maybe if she was quick, she could help her mother again.
Snow stuck in clumps to the arms of Kaede’s overlarge hand-me-down coat, making her feel twice as cold as she picked herself up, shivering. Realizing the potential repercussions of her fall, the little fox scrambled forward, nearly slipping on the ice again as she hastily snagged the basket back into numb paws. Kneeling, she quickly recovered the contents that had spilled out, thankful that no one important was around to hear her teeth chatter. Though her mother had tried, the layers of clothing that hung around her were threadbare and not nearly enough to keep the chill out.
Had she not been forced to wear the silly knitted hat, she might have heard Zane’s call of warning and not went spinning across the icy path. Thankfully, she and her prize had both landed in one of the snow banks, ensuring that none of the jars she had been carrying had been broken. He maneuvered over to her as quickly as he could without falling as well, though she did hear him say a few choice words that Mother would have blanched at. She snickered quietly as he passed her the last bit of pottery, earning a reproachful glare from her friend.
His hostility faded as she inspected the jar, adopting a deep frown of concern instead. “Did it break?”
“No,” she mumbled, turning it in her paws to make sure. “No, just cracked, I think. But not badly.”
“Good. I think the nutty old woman wouldn’t let us back over there if we broke her stuff.”
“She’s not that bad,” Kaede replied, righting herself and trying to dust some of the snow off her coat. Glancing at him, she tried to swallow down the wave of bitter jealousy she normally felt at the sight of his warm coat and thick mittens. She’d lost her own pair earlier this winter, and they couldn’t afford to replace them. Unbeknowst to him, or anyone else for that matter, the only thing allowing her to be outside were the multiple layers hidden under her dress. Then again, he didn’t feel the cold as badly as she did; her mother tried explaining once that it was because he was ‘bigger’ and ‘never knew hunger,’ but gave up when her daughter’s wide eyes stared back at her without a bit of understanding. He’d offered her the mittens several times, but one lesson had stuck: nothing in life was free, and Kaede was not to accept the kindness without doing something in return. And having nothing to offer, she ignored the stinging cold in her paws to the best of her ability.
“Guess not,” he mumbled, taking the basket from her before she could protest. He dismissed her argument with a careless wave, effectively silencing her as he started to walk again. She ran a few paces to catch up, hardly able to hear him over her labored, wheezing breaths and the thick, muffling fabric of her hat. “She didn’t keep you too long today. What did she have you doing?”
“Baking,” the maid responded cheerfully. It was one of her favorite tasks that Hanako set her to in the winter. The old wood stove was warm, although ancient, and the elderly wildcat would let her eat the ones that got too crisp around the edges. Hanako always asked for her help when the snow first fell, and would release her of the duty only once the flowers in her garden started budding again in the spring. When Kaede asked her why, she was told that the cat’s joints would stiffen in the cold weather and made the mundane tasks hard to accomplish. But it was always said to her with a knowing smile, and that was one mystery the inquisitive fox had yet to solve. As a reward for her help, Kaede would wander back home with a basket loaded with warm soups, bread, and, her favorite, small pouches containing the mixed herbs to make tea. Her mother would melt snow over the fire to brew the drink at night, and the warm liquid always seemed to lull the kit into a sound sleep.
Taking the steps two at a time, they reached the balcony leading into Kaede’s tiny home. She held the door open for Zane as he stumbled inside out of the frigid wind and hefted the basket onto a table. Turning around to face her, he looked around the room. “Where’s your mother at?”
“Out making deliveries and running errands, I think.”
“You think?”
“Her handwriting is a bit hard to read,” Kaede lied. Though she could speak in Zane’s tongue almost fluently, learning to read it had been another thing entirely. Mother had tried to teach her, but it was as if she was trying to teach her child to read tea leaves.
Zane looked pleased with the news, though. “We would go back t’ my house. Mom’s been home all morning, so the fire should still be lit, and we’ll probably make it in time for lunch.”
The kit considered her grumbling stomach briefly, but couldn’t forget the odd looks she often earned from Zane’s parents or any creatures living in that part of town. “I do not think I can. Mother would worry if I was not here when she got back.”
“Oh, alright,” he replied, looking crestfallen.
Kaede rushed to make amends. “I can open one of the jars of soup, if you are hungry. It had only just finished when you got there, so it’s still hot.”
“Naw,” he mused, “I’m not.” Though she tried to ignore it, she could feel him looking at her critically. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he tried again. “I guess we could see if the otter twins up the road wanna play tag?”
Forcing herself to seem enthusiastic, she nodded, opening the door again for them to wander back outside. Though the last place she wanted to be was out in the cold, she had been drilled to never show the effects her family’s poverty had on their life. And hopefully, running would keep her warm enough. Inside, though, Kaede longed to curl up in the blankets on the floor with a warm meal and cry again, longing to be normal.
Green paws. She’d ended up with green paws even after trying to prevent it. The young fox stared at her appendages in confusion, the sound of dripping dye filling her ears. How did Mother come back every day without multi-colored fur? Wiping her arms on her dress absently (thankful that it was dark brown for once), Kaede watched the bolt of fabric she had just hung up drain onto the grass below. The ground below the balcony was always stained, and was one of the kit’s favorite sights. Her own personal rainbows; even better, she had helped to make them.
“Kaede!” She looked away, peering around the opened door to watch her mother bustle about the shop inside. Right. They had a lot of work to do today. She didn’t have time to watch the color drain. But as she went inside, she remembered her stained fur. The kit squeaked a response as her mother called for her again, hiding her paws behind her back. The vixen turned to her, pulling up her sleeves again with her teeth as she turned, arms precariously balancing today’s frantic work. “White thread, please, sweetheart.”
The elder Mistweaver moved away to put the dress down on the table, and Kaede waited until her back was turned to go to the shelves. All of the threads were placed in sections based upon their intensity, with the darker ones being lower to the floor. Unfortunately, even as she rose to her full height, she was unable to reach the shelf the lighter threads were placed upon. Hoping in place, she was delighted as she felt the soft material against her fingers, but looked in dismay as she realized she had instead taken a pale yellow. Looking up again, she realized that, in her haste, she had pushed the one she needed farther back.
With a squeaky growl, Kaede snatched up one of the empty crates stacked nearby that had once contained the vials of dye, grunting with exertion as she placed it in front of the shelf. Mother needed her help, and she’d receive it. Pulling herself onto it, Kaede still had to stand on the very tips of her footpaws to reach it, but, finally, she had the spool in her grasp. She turned in over exaggerated delight of having triumphed over the task and… promptly forgot she had been standing on something.
Fearful dread pooled in her stomach as she placed her weight on open air and went tumbling to the floor. Yelping in panic, the kit threw a paw over her face to cushion the impact, but as she fell, she felt her jaw pop painfully as it connected loudly with the unforgiving floor. Another yip erupted from her, along with a thready whimper at the smarting pain as she realized she had bitten her lip. Pulling herself into a disheveled kneel, she looked up as she heard worried steps approaching her.
Dizzy from the collision, it took her a moment to focus on the face of her mother, which she gave a weak smile to. She’d done what she had been asked to do though! Ears still ringing, she held up the spool of thread happily, eyes glittering. But as she unwrapped her little claws from around it, she knew her error immediately. There sat what was once white thread; yet, from her stained grip, it had turned a pale, sickly green. Already watery eyes suddenly overflowed as her shoulders dropped, her ears flattening weakly. Though she had tried, Kaede had messed up even a simple task.
But Mother was forgiving, as always. Forgetting the ruined material, she crouched to be level with her child, and even as the kit averted her gaze, Kaede felt herself being pulled closer. Before she had time to question it, she was breathing into the soft material of her mother’s shawl, the scent of hard work, tea, and warm fur filling her senses. Looking up, though the tight grip around her back made it difficult, she mumbled out an apology. “Gomennasai, okaasan… Watashi wa suru tsumori wa nakatta.”
“Daijuobu, Kaede,” her mother responded, petting her back through her dress reassuringly. She slumped in her parent’s grasp, content to sit there and breath in the calming scent of her mother. After a few heartbeats, her mother released her, looking at her seriously. “Ki o tsukete kudasai.”
Kaede nodded, unwilling to let her mother down. Of course she’d be careful! “Un,” she hummed.
As her mother stood up she took the thread, looking at it carefully. “It’s only this layer that is bad. The rest is white. Don’t worry.”
The kit sighed, grateful that her mistake was easily reversible. Pushing herself upright (making green prints on the floor, though she did not notice), she looked to her mother, ready to receive another order in the attempts to repair the garment. But her mother had other ideas as she looked at her child critically. “I can finish this up quickly. If you could though, can you please go ask Hanako when she needs tapestries done? I’ve forgotten.”
Before another word could be spoken, Kaede was bolting through the door, allowing the momentum of her motions to close it behind her. She barreled onto the balcony before rushing down the stairs, eager to assist her mother in any way she could. With blatant disregard, the fox kit pulled herself over the fence, determining that altering her course to the gate was wasting precious time; maybe if she was quick, she could help her mother again.
Snow stuck in clumps to the arms of Kaede’s overlarge hand-me-down coat, making her feel twice as cold as she picked herself up, shivering. Realizing the potential repercussions of her fall, the little fox scrambled forward, nearly slipping on the ice again as she hastily snagged the basket back into numb paws. Kneeling, she quickly recovered the contents that had spilled out, thankful that no one important was around to hear her teeth chatter. Though her mother had tried, the layers of clothing that hung around her were threadbare and not nearly enough to keep the chill out.
Had she not been forced to wear the silly knitted hat, she might have heard Zane’s call of warning and not went spinning across the icy path. Thankfully, she and her prize had both landed in one of the snow banks, ensuring that none of the jars she had been carrying had been broken. He maneuvered over to her as quickly as he could without falling as well, though she did hear him say a few choice words that Mother would have blanched at. She snickered quietly as he passed her the last bit of pottery, earning a reproachful glare from her friend.
His hostility faded as she inspected the jar, adopting a deep frown of concern instead. “Did it break?”
“No,” she mumbled, turning it in her paws to make sure. “No, just cracked, I think. But not badly.”
“Good. I think the nutty old woman wouldn’t let us back over there if we broke her stuff.”
“She’s not that bad,” Kaede replied, righting herself and trying to dust some of the snow off her coat. Glancing at him, she tried to swallow down the wave of bitter jealousy she normally felt at the sight of his warm coat and thick mittens. She’d lost her own pair earlier this winter, and they couldn’t afford to replace them. Unbeknowst to him, or anyone else for that matter, the only thing allowing her to be outside were the multiple layers hidden under her dress. Then again, he didn’t feel the cold as badly as she did; her mother tried explaining once that it was because he was ‘bigger’ and ‘never knew hunger,’ but gave up when her daughter’s wide eyes stared back at her without a bit of understanding. He’d offered her the mittens several times, but one lesson had stuck: nothing in life was free, and Kaede was not to accept the kindness without doing something in return. And having nothing to offer, she ignored the stinging cold in her paws to the best of her ability.
“Guess not,” he mumbled, taking the basket from her before she could protest. He dismissed her argument with a careless wave, effectively silencing her as he started to walk again. She ran a few paces to catch up, hardly able to hear him over her labored, wheezing breaths and the thick, muffling fabric of her hat. “She didn’t keep you too long today. What did she have you doing?”
“Baking,” the maid responded cheerfully. It was one of her favorite tasks that Hanako set her to in the winter. The old wood stove was warm, although ancient, and the elderly wildcat would let her eat the ones that got too crisp around the edges. Hanako always asked for her help when the snow first fell, and would release her of the duty only once the flowers in her garden started budding again in the spring. When Kaede asked her why, she was told that the cat’s joints would stiffen in the cold weather and made the mundane tasks hard to accomplish. But it was always said to her with a knowing smile, and that was one mystery the inquisitive fox had yet to solve. As a reward for her help, Kaede would wander back home with a basket loaded with warm soups, bread, and, her favorite, small pouches containing the mixed herbs to make tea. Her mother would melt snow over the fire to brew the drink at night, and the warm liquid always seemed to lull the kit into a sound sleep.
Taking the steps two at a time, they reached the balcony leading into Kaede’s tiny home. She held the door open for Zane as he stumbled inside out of the frigid wind and hefted the basket onto a table. Turning around to face her, he looked around the room. “Where’s your mother at?”
“Out making deliveries and running errands, I think.”
“You think?”
“Her handwriting is a bit hard to read,” Kaede lied. Though she could speak in Zane’s tongue almost fluently, learning to read it had been another thing entirely. Mother had tried to teach her, but it was as if she was trying to teach her child to read tea leaves.
Zane looked pleased with the news, though. “We would go back t’ my house. Mom’s been home all morning, so the fire should still be lit, and we’ll probably make it in time for lunch.”
The kit considered her grumbling stomach briefly, but couldn’t forget the odd looks she often earned from Zane’s parents or any creatures living in that part of town. “I do not think I can. Mother would worry if I was not here when she got back.”
“Oh, alright,” he replied, looking crestfallen.
Kaede rushed to make amends. “I can open one of the jars of soup, if you are hungry. It had only just finished when you got there, so it’s still hot.”
“Naw,” he mused, “I’m not.” Though she tried to ignore it, she could feel him looking at her critically. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he tried again. “I guess we could see if the otter twins up the road wanna play tag?”
Forcing herself to seem enthusiastic, she nodded, opening the door again for them to wander back outside. Though the last place she wanted to be was out in the cold, she had been drilled to never show the effects her family’s poverty had on their life. And hopefully, running would keep her warm enough. Inside, though, Kaede longed to curl up in the blankets on the floor with a warm meal and cry again, longing to be normal.