Need (Sister Lashan) (
hasapoint) wrote in
lukeoutbelow2022-06-10 02:56 pm
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Do not be afraid of light
They smelled the battlefield long before they saw it. The apprentices and little Sisters who hadn't been on this kind of excursion before covered their noses and exclaimed. Vena didn't. As the child of a camp follower she would know to expect this, but her tread slowed and she looked repeatedly at Sister Lashan, especially as the sound of incredible numbers of crows cawing grew louder.
"Nasty, isn't it? Decay is part of death which is part of life," Lashan said firmly, if not totally without sympathy. How young had she been, the last time she was upset by the aftermath of battle? "There's armies that immediately turn around and sort the living from the dying from the dead and take care of that then and there. Not here, they're leaving it for the locals to handle or not and we're local enough. If you fight, you may well fight for people who'll leave you if you fall and move on. Make sure you at least have friends who'll look for you." They pressed on with their wagon. The donkey put its ears back but did not balk.
It wasn't as bad as it would get over the next few days. The bodies - it was now academic who had belonged to which side of whichever meaningless conflict this was - were not much bloated and decayed yet. Flies were not yet overwhelming. Right now the field of bodies was mostly attended by carrion birds, and various other birds that were willing to take advantage of the bounty before them. Finches among them, tiny beaks dipped red. A few other people could be seen picking their way across what had been a perfectly useable pasture. They kept clear. Lashan tasked girls to keep watch for them anyway, pretended not to see the ones who were being sick, and oversaw as dead men were loaded onto the donkeycart. They'd take them away a distance, say the rites, strip them of useful things, get them buried, and come back.
She paused. Something... like a sound. Not a sound. Lashan was hearing something with her mind, closer than the pickers. A threat? She stood like a sentinel and paid attention.
"Nasty, isn't it? Decay is part of death which is part of life," Lashan said firmly, if not totally without sympathy. How young had she been, the last time she was upset by the aftermath of battle? "There's armies that immediately turn around and sort the living from the dying from the dead and take care of that then and there. Not here, they're leaving it for the locals to handle or not and we're local enough. If you fight, you may well fight for people who'll leave you if you fall and move on. Make sure you at least have friends who'll look for you." They pressed on with their wagon. The donkey put its ears back but did not balk.
It wasn't as bad as it would get over the next few days. The bodies - it was now academic who had belonged to which side of whichever meaningless conflict this was - were not much bloated and decayed yet. Flies were not yet overwhelming. Right now the field of bodies was mostly attended by carrion birds, and various other birds that were willing to take advantage of the bounty before them. Finches among them, tiny beaks dipped red. A few other people could be seen picking their way across what had been a perfectly useable pasture. They kept clear. Lashan tasked girls to keep watch for them anyway, pretended not to see the ones who were being sick, and oversaw as dead men were loaded onto the donkeycart. They'd take them away a distance, say the rites, strip them of useful things, get them buried, and come back.
She paused. Something... like a sound. Not a sound. Lashan was hearing something with her mind, closer than the pickers. A threat? She stood like a sentinel and paid attention.
no subject
Vena shrugs carelessly when she's obliquely accused of theft. She could have gone on with worrying enthusiasm about festering wounds and the treatment of them but milk's a good topic too. "It's good on strawberries. And bread! And in soup. And it's good in eggs too, or sauce. Cows are great, I like to feed them carrot tops and stuff to say thanks. I never saw one up close before I got here - that was just before she did, because Master was with the women giving herbs to the camp followers and I tried to take her coinpurse and, wham! 'What do you think you're doing!' And then I bit her."
Compared to Nerine, Vena is about that same size and a similar shape, but isn't as dense and has vaguer, softer features. She's not clumsy exactly but there's much more of a rushing, thoughtless quality to how she moves. Less so at the moment, bending Hesri's fingers back, curling and stretching them in a practiced way.
Hesri herself has a little half suppressed frown through this, and sweat showing at her temples. Even with the medicine and a lot of experience it doesn't feel good or comfortable. With affection she snorts, "Vena, you're a hoyden."
no subject
He wonders how many of the girls were thieves and criminals. If they had to eke out a living on their own, on the outskirts, it would make sense for them to eventually wander here in the middle of nowhere.
The exercises… Weren’t entirely unfamiliar. Certain injuries that weren’t deadly, but were severe enough to take a man out of a campaign, often required quite a long recovery time. Sometimes they returned entirely healed, but most times they were never quite the same. Burns were always in the latter category.
“They got anything else out there aside from sweets?”
He could only ignore the complaints of his stomach for so long. Now that Hesri had someone else to keep her company, he takes it as opportunity to duck out for the moment being. Guts hopes that they had something more substantive waiting. Maybe a stew with real meat in it?
no subject
Some memory of that has her all tensed up, forgetting about the exercises. She's more worldly and resigned to certain things than Lashan but is after all still a child, still moved by the memory of pain and futile rage at how unfair something had been. Hesri leans forwards and bunts her forehead to Vena's in a light, affectionate gesture, and Vena relaxes a bit, enough to put her head down and resume what she was doing.
"It's early for dinner but they're into it enough to have something, I'm sure. I expect today there's black sausage again," the older girl says, and grimaces. City girl that she was, she did not grow up eating blood or so hungry that she can quickly adapt to it, and it seems appalling every time she considers the idea.
"Yeah, but it's dumplings too. They went and killed some cockerels and old mean hens for some of them," Vena grumbles, not in a mood now to defend sausages made with blood or gloat over a day with meat in it.
"Oh! Well, there you have it." Hesri smiles up at Guts, with just a hint of teasing. "Go on. If you show up without a shirt on especially, I'm sure they'll give you something good."
no subject
His eyes jerk away from them when Hesri suggests he leaves half-dressed. Girls! Why do they have to be weird about things that were just more comfortable.
“I should get going.” He blurts out sheepishly. “I can bring something back for you guys.”