wayfarers_lodge | {Two-Stick} The First Kiss

A hundred and twenty odd years before current events...

Two-Stick frowned over her notes as the sun began to set, Kirrit nosing her ear as she tutted softly.

"What's wrong, Two Stick?" called StarCatcher from her bench.

"This doesn't make any sense! The shape of the letters aren't congruous with one another!"

"Then how would you make them congruous? Show me."

She nodded, sketching shapes on the tabletop with a piece of charcoal, not even aware that her teacher had moved away from her shoulder until she heard her speaking at the door.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was told that Two Stick Lightning was here?"

She looked up from her notes, cocking her head at an angle. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Why yes, she's here. Who should I say is calling?"

"My name is Fang Strike."

"Oh, the boy that's going to be chieftan! Right, I'll let her know."

Anyone else would have been embarrassed by her mentor's lack of social grace. Two Stick merely blinked as StarCatcher turned towards her at the doorway.

"Do you want to see the boy Fang Strike, girl?"

"I... guess so? Curious. I wasn't expecting visitors today."

Especially not him

He stepped into the room cautiously, as if expecting an attack, his dark eyes round and soft under a shock of black hair, his arms full of a cloth wrapped package. At his side walked a tiger, ears twitched forward with curiousity and alertness. StarCatcher smiled and drifted out of the workshop, her owl gliding along beside her.

"Er. Hello, Two Stick Lightning."

Two Stick was vaguely aware she should probably stand for the man who would be chieftan of the Tiger Fang tribe, but her notes were right there, and they needed her attention.

"Hello, Fang Strike. I certainly didn't expect you to visit me."

He cocked his head.

"Well, why not?"

"I'm sure you've got better things to do, like talk to Smoke Stride, or Silent Cry, or work on replanting your orchards?"

"I... you said I could visit you. I brought you a present."

Two Stick blinked again, pen stopping briefly.

"A present?"

"Yes... I have, er... some flowers for you to make ink. And, er, some goosequills, I understand you use those for your alchemy? And some brimstone for your alchemy as well, we had some Empire traders come through a little while ago, and they recommended it."

"Why are you bringing me presents?"

He looked around briefly, as if looking for a way out of a trap.

"Because... you told me you lost your mother. In the war. I thought... you could do with the supplies."

"Are you going to bring gifts to everyone else who has lost parents and family in the war?"

He paused delicately.

"Perhaps... I should."

"Does that mean I should bring you a gift next time? Your father was the chieftan who died, yes?"

"Yes, he was and... you don't have to. It's alright. I just thought I should bring you something nice."

"Well, thank you. You can put it there."

He put the bundle down on the table, and leaned down, looking at Two Stick's notes.

"That looks interesting. What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to formulate a way to make this writing make more graphic sense."

Fang Strike's brow furrowed, and his tiger made a soft, slightly distressed noise, pushing her head into his hand.

"Shush, Marakeeta, it's alright. Two Stick... I'm afraid I have to ask... what do you mean?"

Two Stick stopped writing, and turned to look at him, eyes curious .

"You really want to know?"

"Yes. I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

She turned back to the pieces of vellum, gesturing as she spoke.

"Well. Writing is a physical representation of the sounds we make when speaking. Except this script doesn't follow sense, the letters are the wrong shapes for the sounds, it's highly dissona- I mean, it doesn't sit right, or feel right. Does that make sense?"

"I... think so?"

"Oh, good."

Another long pause, this one slightly more comfortable, before Fang Strike shifted his weight, leaning closer to her. She looked up again.

"This writing thing looks awfully complicated. You must be very smart to understand it."

"Not nearly as complicated as everyone seems to thi-"

Two Stick was cut off by Fang Strike's mouth pressing against hers, gently stopping her lips with his own. The kiss wasn't rude or insistent, and it felt as if he would pull away the moment he felt hesitation, but it felt like a statement of intent against her mouth, simple and warm as sunlight, more powerful than mere words.

He pulled back, eyes hopeful, and Two Stick exhaled gustily.

"Well, that was unexpected."

"Did you like it?"

"It wasn't an unpleasant experience, no."

She turned and gathered up the notes she was making, pushing them into something vaguely resembling a pile.

"I understand the next protocol is asking if you would like to stay for dinner?"

Fang Strike smiled brightly, tension easing from his shoulders. At his side, Marakeeta made a noise that might have been a purr.

"Thank you. I'd like that very much."