Urchins (CyclicalCycal)

[Whim]

Ewan would've laughed if he hadn't spent five minutes explaining the rules and spent three days locked in a cage. Instead he scowled and pouted, "Because! The queen can't jump over them. Only these horses can jump. This pawn is blocking her. And that one too. See?" He plucked her queen from the board, straightened his King, and emphatically slammed her's back into place with a sigh.

"Well, what did you and your father do for fun in the woods?"

The trunk by the window held a pair of intricately carved dolls with an assortment of combs and lace dresses to match, painted soldiers, wooden swords, a leather ball, a stuffed bear, and many other wonders surely new to the forest child.

[CyclicalCycal]

"Well, he mostly taught me how to not kill things by accident with my magic. I played with the golems more than anything though." Cara explained, oblivious to Ewan and his anger. The girl wandered over to the chest, going to take a wooden sword, "And this!" She said, as if that helped explain things to him.

She weighed the weapon in her hand, watching it. Then, a massive realisation began to dawn on her, a grin crossing her face as she stared at the weapon in awe.

[Whim]

"Golems? Like made from trees?" Ewan cocked his head as she spoke. The girl had a very unusual idea of what was natural and what was not. But then again she had quite the unusual upbringing. Either way the chess wasn't going well so he followed her to the window.

"He taught you swords too? Though I guess elves have lots of time to learn, huh? I used to fight a little when I was a grown-up, you know," the boy gave her a shy smile and picked up the other wooden sword, feeling a hair self-conscious. He hadn't dueled seriously in years and he usually cheated with magic whenever he picked up a sword. Still, he'd just be pretending to lose to her anyway. Whole point of the affair was to lift her spirits.

He clutched the weapon and took a few paces back, "Wanna try?"

[CyclicalCycal]

"They're made of wood and screams." Cara replied to Ewan, benignly, as if that statement needed no further explanation or indulgence. She nodded to Ewan, not paying attention as she turned around to prepare to fight. As he asked, she nodded, before her eye widened and an odd look went about her face.

"You were a grown up?" She asked, surprised. Confusion then crossed her look, it seemed she was going to get increasingly more confused if this wasn't elaborated on.

[Whim]

"Well I used to be a grown up - an adult. I was trying to do a make a new spell so people wouldn't get old and grey. But since I wasn't so old to begin with it made me a kid when I tried," he blushed with embarrassment as she pressed him. "Elves don't have to worry about that I guess.

"En garde!" the boy lifted the wooden sword and stepped forward, swinging it in clumsy arcs. If he'd ever been good at swordfighting it didn't show, and the girl had a few inches on him to boot.

[CyclicalCycal]

Cara frowned. "Okay..." she mumbled at Ewan's explanation, not sure of what to think about it. After he had explained she nodded, before going to step forwards and join him in the fighting.

She would go to slide PSAT Ewan, before moving to send a punch at him. Not a sword swing, just a regular old punch.

[Whim]

"Ow! That's not fair!" Ewan yelped and danced back with a scowl. It hurt. He rubbed his shoulder and got back into position.  Maybe he should actually try this time? She was bigger after all. The boy raised up the wooden sword, moving cautiously, though his grip was certainly weak.

"What sots of magic does and doesn't your Father allow, anyway? Would I make him unhappy?"

[CyclicalCycal]

"How's it not fair?" Cara asked, with legitimate and honest curiosity. She saw nothing wrong with her attack, or it seemed that way. Cara continued to stalk around Ewan, tilting her head to think at his question.

"No necromancy, demons, or fire!" Cara proclaims, after Ewan's questions.

[Whim]

The boy screwed up his face, getting more worked up than he'd ought to "Well I don't know. I suppose its not. Just wasn't expecting it because its swords!" Then he jumped forward with an exaggerated chop.

"So he won't be cross with me when he comes? Didn't seem too pleased when I said I could turn into squirrels and birds." For the moment it was easy to forget they were held captive in a witch's attic.

[CyclicalCycal]

Cara was not quick enough, being struck about the head and falling or he ground with a cry. "Ooowww..." she mumbled, rubbing her head, looking to Ewan and blinking rapidly.

"I don't think he'll kill you. He will probably kill the lady very badly. She will be hurting forever." She replied, with a wide grin. Her lack of an eye, and general cheeriness about this whole situation would be rather concerning to some.

[Whim]

"Sorry!" here was a loud bang as Cara hit the floor and Ewan dropped the wooden sword in shock. He hadn't meant to do that, and he suddenly remembered where they were, and how drawing the attention of Lad Selwin and her lackey would be a horrible thing. There was something unsettling about her gleeful love of violence; it seemed more a matter of entertainment than anger. It made him sad. The boy reached down and offered her a hand.

"Are you okay? Maybe we should sleep. You gave me a lot of bruises," he cracked a small smile and rubbed his arm ruefully. "I think there's a dress like this for you, too. If you want. Its not itchy."

Ewan crept toward his bed on the right, stopping to blow out the drippy candle. A full moon thown through the window.

[CyclicalCycal]

"I'll never wear one of their stupid dresses." Cara responded, as she pulled hereslf up with Ewan's aid. "And you didn't hurt me! We played games like that all the time back at home..." She mumbled, a sad smile crossing her face.

The child paused, before going to slowly move over to her bed, and crawl into it. She would stare out, in dead silence, thinking about what could be done, about how they could escape.

"I hate this place. I hope all the things in here who aren't us die."

[Whim]

"I know..." he whispered back sadly. "We'll find a way to 'scape. Tomorrow maybe. Or your Father will come. But you oughtn't say that. She's probably grabbed other kids or mages before us and maybe they're still about.

"Does... does your father usually kill people?" the boy asked as though they were telling ghost stories. Part of him knew he should cheer her up, but curiosity got the better of him. Was she better off with this creature?

Fatigue began to get the better of Ewan. The sheets were scratchy and threadbare but preferible to the cold night eye. He didn't notice a red eye glower, ever so briefly, at them through the keyhole.

[CyclicalCycal]

"Ye! He gets all the things that hurt nature!" Cara responded, rather benignly. She didn't seem to be particularly worried by the fact her father killed things, or was implied to do so. "Why? Is that a bad thing?" She asked, genuinely curious.

After a brief pause, she found herself settling into the bed. She wasn't used to beds like the one she was lying in now, and found herself getting rather comfortable in a rather short amount of time.

[Whim]

"So humans making fires and chopping trees, though not lightning and beavers?" Ewan cocked his head to the side. He wondered if there was much use in debating morality with nine-year-old.

"Goodnight Cara. And- um, don't be frightened. Alright?" the boy stifled a yawn, staring up at the ceiling. It didn't seem they'd be killed, eaten, or sacrificed so much as left to do housework and live in an attic. Still, he felt a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach as he drifted off.

It was ten in the evening by now, and it would be six by the time a servant came to wake them...

[CyclicalCycal]

Cara replied, rather bluntly. "Lightning is normal. Beavers are normal. Humans cutting a few trees is normal. Fire...I don't know. I've always hated it. It doesn't make sense. But when a person cuts all the trees they're being bad and need to learn a lesson!"

She then replied to Ewan's request. "I-I...okay. I hate this place." She mumbled, again reinforcing her opinion on what they were stuck doing.

When the servant came to awaken them, Cara was already beginning to wake up. She was used to getting up at dawn, and sleeping at dusk, but the fact she had gone to bed far later than normal meant she was being quite slow in her awakening.

[Whim]

The winter sun cast a pale light in over the room as it rose. It was, most assuredly, the sort of gloomy day that made you want to burrow beneath the blankets and never get up. Ewan tossed and turned, trying to ignroe his bladder, when a series of boming knocks battered their door which then swung open. The little imp was back, pointy teeth worked into a horrid grin.

"Best get up and about, little mites. Lady Selwin's expects you at breakfast. Oh yes. Scrubbed and smiling. Washbasin's across the hall. Report to the library stairs when you're done. Any questions? No? Good!"

Ewan stared at Thistle in silent contempt. Not moving.

"Up!" the imp snapped his fingers, and the boy yelped as he mark flared. Thistle turned his attention to Cara. "Ah. You've been awake since dawn girl. I like that. Not a layabout."

[CyclicalCycal]

"It's cause the dawn is the time people get up. Because of the light. If you remain asleep too long you may also get eaten by a bear or something..." she explained, to Thistle, a vague incoherence about her. "When can I leave?" She asked, simply. "...oh, also. I have a name. It's Cara and you should call me by it!"

She then paused, again, before going to ask another question. "Do you have a garden? Can I go there...?" She asked, a slyness creeping into her voice. She was planning something. Words, still, was that she wasn't a particularly skilled liar. Were the devil not to be paying attention, perhaps she would go unnoticed. Or, he may not care. Regardless, she asked her question, waiting for an answer.

[Whim]

(Been a busy week. Apologies!)

"Cara and Ewan and Ewan and Cara, yes, yes, I know. And I am Master Thistle. Mind you, the Lady can rename you if she so pleases." the imp uttered a snort of amusement at Cara's babbling, squinting at the girl like she was some rare bird. "You'll have breakfast with Lady Selwin first. She wishes to be amused. After that I'd a mind to make the boy clear the garden and you dust the library... but such enthusiasm!

"I'm sure he could use your help eh? Such a scrawny little thing he is!" the imp gave a toothy smile and stalked down the hall to await them at the stairs.

"Hope your Father kills him first. Ugh! Let's get this over with." Ewan fumed and hopped out of bed. The water in the washroom across the hall was freezing but it woke him up. His wardrobe consisted of itchy shirts, stockings, short-pants which suspenders. The boy emerged blushing from the changing screen. "I look like a doll..."

The finrey in Cara's wardrobe was no doubt confusing to a forest elf. Stockings, Lace, frills and bows. Nothing she'd want to wear.

"Come along! You've five more minutes!" the shrill imp called out.

[CyclicalCycal]

(It's ok)

She glared at the imp, as he spoke. It was clear, she had a total and complete hatred of him and was almost certainly going to do disregard everything he said once he left. After he left, Cara decided to voice her opinion.

"He's dumb. I'm not gonna cdust anything, that's stupid. Where would you get the dust?"

Cara decided the best thing to dow as mimic Ewan, going over to the wardrobe and looking into it. What she found was greatly confusing to her. She decided she hated that stuff, shoving it all back in roughly and pushing the wardrobe closed.

"I'm not wearing that.." she mumbled, mostly to hereslf. Hearing Thistle's call, she decided to disregard it, loitering in the bedroom, looking about it with a great intent.