Warden's Daughter Pt.6

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-um, Enjoy?

Dragon Day

I glance over and see Janner pull out a piece of paper. It takes a moment, but he puts it back and continues his work.

He digs into the hay and falls forward. I cover my mouth at his faceful of horse nuggets.

I head over to the house, passing by Tink as his hammer falls.

Podo kneels in the garden, growling at something. “Again?” I mutter.

I stand at the gate, not risking another shift with someone else inside. Podo already dislikes Papa, he doesn’t need more reason to make me leave.

Leeli comes over, standing beside me.

“Grandpa?” she asks. 

Podo whips around, his club in the air. I manage to hold back from flinching, but I’m not sure how.

"Eh? Watch yerself, lass. I like to have banged you on the head with my whopper," he pauses a moment in silence, "Thwaps!"

I step aside as a thwap rushes out from behind a bush, with Podo observing both actions.

Podo chases it and Nugget jumps through the fence for it.

"I tried to get some the other day," I tell him, "It . . . didn't work very well."

He doesn't need more explanation, so I don't give it.

The club hits the thwap, sending it flying over the fence. a few more pop out as I give up keeping up. 

I place my hand on Leeli's shoulder before heading inside.

“Ama,” I say as Tink steps in. At least he can’t drop the hammer again, “Does anything else need to be done for dinner?”

“Just setting the table,” she replies without turning.

I grab the plates and place them around the table as everyone else enters and takes their seat.

Aunt Nia watches the others eat, head in her hands. “Eat well, my dears. It’s going to be a busy day,”

“The sea dragons!” the others yell together. 

I only smile, remembering the sound of their voices mixing with the waves of Anneria’s shore. Nia pushes her chair away from the table, smiling. 

“Finish up your breakfast and we’ll go to town. The chores will wait.”

Podo crashes through the door, holding out a squirming bag, “THWAPS!” 

He wacks the bag and it stills. I slide a hotcake into my lap and continue eating the rest.

“There are two more of the little stinkers out there, but these three won’t be munching on any more of our vegetables, I can tell you that. Lousy, thevin’ little thwaps . . . “ He looks up at us and trails off, clearing his throat. “Don’t worry, now. I’ll be tossin’ ‘em off the cliff straight into the Dark Sea of Darkness after I eat a few of yer fine hotcakes, honey.”

Nia’s moth drops, “How could you throw them into the sea?”

Podo scratches his head, simply explaining the process.

Leeli’s fork pauses on the way to her mouth and she pushes back from the table, “Grandpa,grandpa, you can’t just kill them! They’re such sweet little things, and they never hurt anyone,” Podo points at his scratches, but she ignores it, “And all they take is a few of our vegetables each year to feed their baby thwapplings. I can’t believe that you would do such a thing. Please, Grandpa, don’t hurt the little fuzzies.”

She kisses his cheek and walks out, Nugget close behind.

The bag squeaks and Podo wacks it again, but softer before placing it down.

“Now, Janner, lad,” He only addresses Janner, but I know it applies to me too.

“It can get rowdy out there with the festivities going on, and you know the Fangs get even meaner when It looks like we Skreeans are having a grand time of it.”

“Yes sir,” Janner’s simple words give more emotion than he realizes.

I grab my plate and put it away before heading upstairs for my bag.

Mumbling off what’s in the bag, I check everything there is, “Books, water, coins, feather.”

Before I head down the stairs, I make sure the conversation has finished. 

“Sometimes ye feel like yer brother and sister  might weigh you down like an anchor, is that it?” I hear Podo saying, “Sometimes ye feel like this little town’s too small for the notions in yer head?”

I step back, sit down, and grab the feather from my satchel. I’d found it in my old journal, one Papa’d given to me before our fall. “Every word is special,” He’d told me, “No matter how little you think about it before you write it or say it, It matters. And it always will. And like birds lose their feathers, you may lose your words. But they’re still up there somewhere,” He tapped my head and stood, holding his hand out for me to take. I reach up to grab it but the hand is smaller and thinner. When I look up, I see Nia’s face instead.

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-Weird place to put this, but y'know the thoughts back from chapter . . . 4? about blame? those thoughts still exist throughout the whole story. I just don't feel like writing them . . .