[Mkguild] MK- Temper (1/2)

[Hallan Mirayas]

Again, /text/ denotes italics.  Thank you.

-----

Temper
  by Hallan Mirayas

   Clang!

   Clang!

   Clan-pingg!!

   "Ow!"

   Three Keepers stopped and looked at each other, surprised to hear thin 
metal clattering on stone.  The panda, rooster, and komodo dragon paused, 
noting the snowflake and anvil sign over the door.  Next, they heard a loud 
curse and an even louder crash.  The door to the smithy slammed open, 
sending echoes down the hallway, revealing a thickly furred dog-morph, the 
color of freshly fallen snow, ears flat to the side, teeth bared in a snarl, 
and brown eyes snapping with frustrated fury.  A rapidly growing patch of 
red marred the white fur of Drift’s left cheek, and he glared at the trio 
standing dumbstruck outside his door.  "What?!" he yelled, teeth flashing.  
The trio flinched visibly, jaws snapping shut, and said nothing.  Covering 
the long slash on his cheek with his hand, he stormed down the hallway in 
search of Healer Coe, his stride marred by a heavy limp favoring his right 
side.

   "What strange customs these westerners have," Desuka commented once the 
samoyed was lost to sight, fluttering his feathers in agitation.  "To leave 
a fire blazing in an open room?  Very careless."

   "Perhaps he has just had a bad morning," said the panda.  "Let us bank 
that fire lest his morning grow even worse upon his return."

   The komodo nodded.  "A wise suggestion, Ye, and one that I do not think 
will delay us much on our way."  He stepped in, but paused to look at the 
broken, half-shattered bar of tin on the floor.

   "What is it, Mong Ho?" asked his friend the rooster.

   "I see what his problem was, Desuka," said the komodo as he carefully 
banked the forge's fires.  "His fire is too hot."

-----

   Brian Coe was jolted awake a week later and quickly tugged a nightshirt 
on over his tousled fur.  "I'm coming, I'm coming," he yelled, trying to get 
whoever was pounding on the door to stop.  After barking his leg against the 
corner of a table, he paused to light a candle, the lightening night sky not 
yet far enough into dawn for him to see without it.  Opening the door, Coe 
sighed as he recognized the same Keeper at his doorstep for the third time 
in two weeks, clutching his left hand, ears flat with pain.  "Drift, do you 
have any idea what time it is?  Never mind, never mind.  What did you do to 
yourself this time?"  The raccoon beckoned Drift in and closed the door 
behind him.

   Drift winced sharply as Brian made him spread the fingers of his left 
hand, revealing a nasty burn from the thumb down onto the palm.  "I thought 
your ring kept you from getting burned?" Brian asked, looking startled.  
"And what's this white stuff?" he continued, noticing a white patch in the 
middle of the samoyed's right palm-pad.  Drift's ears immediately dropped 
flat back, head ducking and tail curling, but the raccoon grabbed his hand 
and opened the fingers again for a closer look.  "Makeup?  You -didn't!-"  
He looked up sharply, eyes focusing on the Mark of Akkala just peeking out 
from where he'd had to shave Drift's cheek earlier last week for the 
stitches.  Sure enough, the Mark itself was unmarred, but there was white 
makeup all around it, covering most of the shaved cheek.  Where the makeup 
touched the Mark, it looked singed, and there was a slight burnt smell.  Coe 
sighed and twitched his whiskers in an admonishing tut-tut as he rummaged up 
some burn salve from a nearby cabinet.  "You did.  Honestly, Drift, what 
were you thinking?"

   Drift's arms came up, gesturing at the Mark and at his throat.  His mouth 
moved as if he was trying to explain himself, but no sound came out.  "It 
took your voice, too?  Oh, dear.  You'd better get yourself down to the 
Lothanasi temple right away and make an apology to Akkala."  The raccoon 
looked around for a moment, as if searching for something, then shook his 
head.  "Where's your cane?  I told you not to walk on those toes without 
one."  At Drift's disgruntled look and a second gesture at his throat and 
his hand, Coe sighed.  "Never mind.  I have a crutch you can use for now.  
And yes, you -will- use it until you get back to your cane or I'll have you 
confined to your room until those toes heal.  Yes, I can do that.  I don't 
want to, but if you don't stay off that foot as much as possible, there's 
going to be trouble.  Understand?  Good.  Now, let's get some salve on that 
burn and wrap it up to protect it while it heals..."

-----

   Drift put off going to the Lothanasi temple as long he reasonably could, 
heading first to his room for his cane and then back to Healer Coe's to drop 
off the crutch.  But eventually he could put it off no longer and, with a 
silent whisper of thanks to Kyia, quickly found himself at the ornately 
carved doors.  He carefully settled down on the floor across the hall from 
them, since the temple had not yet been opened for the day, and prayed, /Oh, 
Eli, please let it be the nice one.  I don't know if I could handle the 
Lothanasa this morning./

   He passed the time by studying the creatures and beasts carved into the 
door, and the precious metals and gems used to highlight them, trying to 
figure out how the metals were inlaid without actually going over and 
touching them.  He'd just started to figure out the third when the sound of 
claws clicked on the floor to his right, and he turned his head to find 
himself nose-to-nose with a large grey wolf.

   /Greetings, o snow-furred one/, said a voice in Drift's head as the wolf 
flopped down on the floor next to him, one forepaw draped over the other and 
his tongue lolling in a silly lupine smile.  /What brings you here this fine 
morn?  Pray don't look so startled, friend!  Your pardon, but my voice is 
not what it used to be, so a telepathy spell must suffice./

   Drift's disgruntled frown drew a puzzled look from the wolf, his head 
tilting and an ear tipping back.  /Nothing to say?  What is the matter?  The 
wolf sniffed the air.  And why do I smell burnt hair?/

   Both of Drift's ears went flat back as an unwanted memory flashed before 
his eyes, of flames sweeping up his arm.  The samoyed's left hand started 
shaking and he quickly seized it by the unburnt fingers to make it stop.

   /Are you alright?/ came the wolf's unspoken question as he half-rose, 
putting a forepaw on Drift's arm.  /Please, talk to me.  Tell me what's 
wrong./

   A snarl rippled Drift's lips and he tried to say something, then thumped 
the wall with his fist out of sheer vexation and pointed at his voiceless 
throat, turning his head so the wolf could see the offended Mark of Akkala.

   /Oh, dear.  How did you-  Never mind.  I'm sure the Lothanasa can help 
you set things right./  When he saw the nervous look cross Drift's face at 
the mention of the high priestess, he nosed the samoyed's arm and gave him 
another lupine smile.  /Don't worry.  I'll introduce you.  Just trust me./  
Laughter followed when Drift gave him a quizzical 'who are you' look.  /Call 
me Wanderer.  Yes, that Wanderer.  Rest your mind at ease; you're not the 
only one here to have offended a goddess.  But Akkala is forgiving, and I'm 
certain fair Raven will be able to get things straightened out./

   Footsteps at the doors turned the heads of both canines.  /Ah, an end to 
our wait/, came Wanderer's thought as the doors swung open.  /Stay put, sir, 
I'll ask him to help you up./  The wolf locked eyes with the white-robed 
young boy who had opened the door, and he stepped toward Drift with an 
extended hand, smiling with a benevolence unusual on a face so young.

   Between Drift's cane, the age-regressed youth, and the wolf's bodily 
support, the samoyed got back to his feet without trouble.  Thanking both 
with a nod, he tap-stepped his way into the entryway of the temple, the 
sound of his cane bouncing noisily against the stone walls despite the 
frescoes and Elvish calligraphy with which they were decorated.  The boy 
stepped around him with the regained nimbleness of youth, preceding him down 
the hallway, but Wanderer stayed beside him, a reassuring presence for which 
Drift gave grateful thanks in his heart.  His tail kept trying to tuck 
between his legs, while his fingers tapped on the cane's head with nervous 
energy.

   /Relax, o canine snowdrift.  I promise I won't let anyone bite you unless 
you ask for it./  The wolf's tail wagged a laugh.  /Ah, here we are./

   The temple doors opened at the end of the hall, revealing a long, wide 
room, spartan in its simplicity, without any of the carvings or tapestries 
that Drift would have expected in a holy temple, aside from the covered fire 
pit in the center, the altar, and the double-barred Lothanasi cross above 
it.  He had vague, fever-skewed memories of the temple from when he'd been 
here last for Akkala's healing, but now, with the dawn's first light 
streaming through the window beyond the twin cross, he instinctively liked 
it because of that simplicity.

   Wanderer darted forward, weaving expertly between a pair of acolytes 
carrying a wooden-planked stretcher between them, stacked high with tied 
bundles of parchment and vellum, his tail wagging wildly as he skidded to a 
stop by the altar at the Lothanasa's feet, eyes fixed on her and ears 
completely ignoring the objections of the offended acolytes.

   Raven was just as beautiful as he'd heard, with long black hair still 
held on to after the Curse, dark grey fur with lighter highlights, a short 
muzzle, and a flowing white robe that cascaded like liquid light from her 
neck to the floor.  Drift felt a sudden stab of envy for Wanderer, which he 
quickly quashed, ears heating with embarrassment.

   The wolven priestess dropped to one knee and wrapped her arms around his 
neck, her smile complementing his wagging tail as he crooned a loving rumble 
into her dark black hair.  The tone was unmistakable to Drift's ears, though 
it might have sounded like growling to a non-canine.  "Hello, Charles," she 
said once they separated, in a voice considerably softer than Drift had 
expected from the highest Lothanasi priestess of Metamor, especially with 
her strict reputation.  "How are you today?"  No words came from the wolf, 
but Raven smiled after a moment.  "I'm glad to hear it.

   "And who is your friend?"  Ice blue eyes came up to fix on Drift, who had 
stayed near the doors and out of the way of the temple's early morning 
bustle.  Those eyes flickered for a moment as Wanderer looked at her.  "Oh.  
Come closer, please.  Don't be nervous.  Show me what happened."  As he 
tap-stepped closer, her brow furrowed as she scrutinized his face.  "I 
remember you.  You go by 'Drift', is that correct?"  Her furrowed brow 
tightened when she saw the burnt white makeup and the burn on the upturned 
palm when she unwound and then rewound the bandage.  "What did you do?"  
When the samoyed opened his mouth and pointed to his throat, she sighed and 
shook her head, rising to her feet with an expression of resignation mixed 
with mild annoyance.  "Charles," she asked, looking down at Wanderer and 
running the fingers of one hand through his cheek fur, "would you run down 
to the acolytes' kitchen and give them a wolf's advice?  Otherwise, they 
always overcook the morning sausage.  Thank you, dear."

   Once Wanderer had left, pausing only to give Drift an astonished look and 
a surprised /You really -are- a snow Drift?/, Raven gently shooed everyone 
else out of the temple, closing the doors behind them. "Kneel, please," she 
said, in a firmer tone than what she had used when Wanderer was in the room, 
directing him to a specific spot in front of the altar.  Picking up a 
container from a nearby shelf once he had knelt down, she anointed his head 
with lightly perfumed oil, wetting her right thumb with the oil to draw a 
Lothanasi twin cross upon his fur.  Putting the container back on the shelf, 
she directed him to open his mouth, placing her right forefinger on his 
tongue.  "Bright Lady Akkala, please loosen this man's tongue, so that he 
may speak and explain what has transpired in his own words."

   Drift's nose twitched from the perfume of the oil on Raven's thumb and on 
his forehead.  "Og-" was all he managed before Raven took her finger from 
his tongue.  "Thank you," he said, rubbing his nose to relieve the itching.  
"And the name is Drift Edward Snow, now.  I am no longer a castaway."

   "Mr. Snow, this respite is only temporary.  Tell me what you have done, 
and why you spread white coloring over the Lady Akkala's sacred mark."

   Both from his own embarrassment and from the increasingly forbidding look 
on Raven's face, Drift ducked his head, tipped his ears back, and tucked his 
tail.  "It was stupid.  I was angry at myself, arguing in my mind, and 
wasn't paying as much attention as I should have.  I've used the white 
makeup for the last several days to protect my cheek from sunburn until the 
stitches are out and the fur grows back, but this is the first time I've 
been idiot enough to not pay proper attention to her Mark.  The next thing I 
knew, my hand was burned and my voice was gone."  He sneezed, grumbled, and 
rubbed his nose.  "Sorry.  It's the perfume.  I never handled perfumes well, 
even as a kid."

   Raven couldn't quite hide a flicker of amusement at the samoyed's 
discomfiture, but her questioning was strictly business.  "So you did not 
intend to cover the Lady Akkala's Mark?"

   "No, ma'am.  It was an accident.  I have no excuse for my carelessness."

   The samoyed's blunt honesty and respectful tone brought a look of 
surprise to Raven's face.  "I am impressed, Mr. Snow, that you would not try 
to make an excuse."

   "It wouldn't do me any good, and I try to own up to my mistakes.  It's 
the right thing to do."  He looked up, a slightly lopsided smile tugging at 
his mouth as he lifted his bandaged hand.  "Besides, would you want to fib 
to a lady who can do this?"

   "A valid point, Mr. Snow," Raven said with a nod, then turned to the 
altar and raised her hands toward the twin cross.  "O Lady Akkala, Bright 
Mother of all mankind, hear this one. He has gone astray, and seeks to 
return to the path that you have set for him. Hear his words of repentance." 
  She then stepped back and out of the way, watching as the samoyed bowed 
his head and folded his hands in the Patildor fashion, his tail tucked 
respectfully as he repeated his earlier explanation and apology.

   She noticed with a bit of curiousity that he did not genuflect before 
praying, and that feeling grew when he continued to speak after his prayer 
to Akkala.  This was much quieter, as if spoken to himself and no other, but 
it was not so low that her keen wolf ears could not detect it.  "Father in 
heaven, please forgive me, for I have sinned against you as well.  I have 
again allowed my temper to override my judgment, and have wronged one who 
gave me aid.  Father, please help me not to be frustrated with myself, to 
have patience when things go awry, and help me to make the proper amends.  
In your beloved son's name, amen."

   Once she saw he was done, Raven stepped forward again and looked to the 
twin cross, silently communing, then turned her eyes to the kneeling Drift.  
"Akkala has accepted your apology and restored your voice.  As penance, you 
are directed to join the acolytes here at least two days of each week for a 
month, delivering food, water, and medical attention to the poor, especially 
those who have lost their homes this winter."

   "I know how that feels," Drift muttered quietly.

   Raven gave him a slight admonishing glance for interrupting, and then 
continued.  "You will report directly to Celine, the head of the acolytes, 
and she will let you know when your penance has been served."  Taking a deep 
breath, she stepped away from the altar, her voice becoming warmer as she 
ceased being a messenger from on high and returned to being a priestess in 
the service of others.  "Now, before you go, would you like me to tend to 
your cheek and your foot?  I'm certain that must be painful."

   Drift levered himself gingerly to his feet, leaning on his cane to keep 
the weight off his foot.  "No, thank you, ma'am."

   "Mr. Snow, are you sure you won't reconsider?  It won't require another 
penance."

   Drift drew himself up to his full height, white fur gleaming in the sun.  
"No thank you," he repeated.  "Those two don't involve anything but my own 
temper, and I'll pay those dues myself."  With that, he turned and 
tap-stepped his way out of the Temple, leaving Raven shaking her head at the 
strange mix of pride and humility in the canine Keeper.

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