Post by Maribel Correa on Feb 9, 2023 1:41:12 GMT -5
Some time later...
After many nights of helping the survivors and gaining their trust, of building up both the Coterie, which now had a temporary barracks for the children, and making sure that the scaffolding for the soon-to-be-village was set up, Maribel found herself in need of another set of hands. Huey caught her rummaging through the many chests and packs that occupied her tent, hmming to herself as she tapped her chin.
"Mother," he chirped, "What do you search for?"
Without flinching, the woman looked over toward the boy, her expression soft and loving. She walked over to him, steps so fluid it looked as though she was floating beneath her robes, and took his little hand in her own. "My heart, do you know where your dolly is? The one that plays with all the children. Was it lost to the flood?"
Huey gave an astute nod to the matriarch, guiding her over to one of the chests she'd looked in a dozen times now. "You put it away a long time ago. You did not want a single soul to find it." He leaned over into the chest, which was so large that he had to climb into it, and reached into the back, where there was a small groove. It looked like a chip, a defect in the making of the chest, but as the boy lifted it, there revealed a hidden compartment. Sitting there, pale as porcelain and cracked down through the eye, was a mask. Maribel clapped, then raised Huey up and out of the chest.
"Very good! This is why you're my favorite boy." She grabbed the pieces of the mask and gazed at them with a small frown. "This will not do. I believe we need to take a trip to our favorite bladesmith."
The child nodded again. "I do hope she will find a solution. This is a far cry from a blade."
And to this, Maribel laughed. "Do not worry, little one; she will."
After many nights of helping the survivors and gaining their trust, of building up both the Coterie, which now had a temporary barracks for the children, and making sure that the scaffolding for the soon-to-be-village was set up, Maribel found herself in need of another set of hands. Huey caught her rummaging through the many chests and packs that occupied her tent, hmming to herself as she tapped her chin.
"Mother," he chirped, "What do you search for?"
Without flinching, the woman looked over toward the boy, her expression soft and loving. She walked over to him, steps so fluid it looked as though she was floating beneath her robes, and took his little hand in her own. "My heart, do you know where your dolly is? The one that plays with all the children. Was it lost to the flood?"
Huey gave an astute nod to the matriarch, guiding her over to one of the chests she'd looked in a dozen times now. "You put it away a long time ago. You did not want a single soul to find it." He leaned over into the chest, which was so large that he had to climb into it, and reached into the back, where there was a small groove. It looked like a chip, a defect in the making of the chest, but as the boy lifted it, there revealed a hidden compartment. Sitting there, pale as porcelain and cracked down through the eye, was a mask. Maribel clapped, then raised Huey up and out of the chest.
"Very good! This is why you're my favorite boy." She grabbed the pieces of the mask and gazed at them with a small frown. "This will not do. I believe we need to take a trip to our favorite bladesmith."
The child nodded again. "I do hope she will find a solution. This is a far cry from a blade."
And to this, Maribel laughed. "Do not worry, little one; she will."