08-31-2018, 06:12 AM
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]He had grown accustomed to the bells, a sound which proved rather common for any number of people drawn to the island's shores found themself seeking to raise its song, harsh and clattering, marred by time and misuse. It seemed almost a miracle none had angered the mambas which coiled beneath, simply waiting for an unwitting fool willing to push their luck. Yet this seemed different, a lighter song, more musical and lilting as it called, drawing his attention.
Though bed rest was necessary to help heal the shatter bone Silus was not one to follow orders so readily given, even from the one he called his teacher, following her in every way beyond what she thought best for his health. There was nothing good about him moving around, further aggravating the cuts upon his face and side, nor the sudden shift of bone as he moved too quickly, ribs and leg screaming at him to stop. Such would have been a smart move, however, and none might deem the Sage intelligent. For all of his abilities in herbs, his work with memory so he might make as few mistakes as possible, one to behold in a child with such a flighty mind, he was idiotic in acts of caring for himself in any meaningful way.
It had become a habit of his to wander the island, weaving through the thin trees and seeking any who might need his assistance, the familiar weight of his satchel, striking his side with each hopping step, grounding. Dark ears swivelled around and for a time Silus wondered at how good an idea it might be to approach, the murmur of voices around the strange one enough to speak of her already having business, but he was curious if nothing else. Slowly he moved closer, eyeing the masks Lua took out, a raised brow turned to Bakugou. The news of his forge was not one kept well, or might it be he had made no attempt and rather preferred others to come and seek his work, and so he wondered if it was some inspiration or apart of his own work.
“I'll take da mask 'e don' want, an da box,” gesturing with a flick of his head, it was difficult to do much with one arm lifted in a make-shift sling so the bone had time to set and heal properly, briefly thinking on what things he might have to give her in exchange. “Got sum knives, fer carvin, I don' need no more, bone charms, a few snake skins, an sum whale bone.” Listing off a few things he was willing to part with he hoped she would find something worthy of the items he wanted.
Though bed rest was necessary to help heal the shatter bone Silus was not one to follow orders so readily given, even from the one he called his teacher, following her in every way beyond what she thought best for his health. There was nothing good about him moving around, further aggravating the cuts upon his face and side, nor the sudden shift of bone as he moved too quickly, ribs and leg screaming at him to stop. Such would have been a smart move, however, and none might deem the Sage intelligent. For all of his abilities in herbs, his work with memory so he might make as few mistakes as possible, one to behold in a child with such a flighty mind, he was idiotic in acts of caring for himself in any meaningful way.
It had become a habit of his to wander the island, weaving through the thin trees and seeking any who might need his assistance, the familiar weight of his satchel, striking his side with each hopping step, grounding. Dark ears swivelled around and for a time Silus wondered at how good an idea it might be to approach, the murmur of voices around the strange one enough to speak of her already having business, but he was curious if nothing else. Slowly he moved closer, eyeing the masks Lua took out, a raised brow turned to Bakugou. The news of his forge was not one kept well, or might it be he had made no attempt and rather preferred others to come and seek his work, and so he wondered if it was some inspiration or apart of his own work.
“I'll take da mask 'e don' want, an da box,” gesturing with a flick of his head, it was difficult to do much with one arm lifted in a make-shift sling so the bone had time to set and heal properly, briefly thinking on what things he might have to give her in exchange. “Got sum knives, fer carvin, I don' need no more, bone charms, a few snake skins, an sum whale bone.” Listing off a few things he was willing to part with he hoped she would find something worthy of the items he wanted.