Worth finished her food and looked up. Panther was slumped, her arms draped over the edge of the roof and her green eyes unbearably tired. She tilted her head, edging forwards and gesturing around with a questioning expression. "There's no more food." Panther mumbled. Worth shook her head. She gestured to herself, and then air, and raised an eyebrow. “Much?” Maethor asked. “I don’t know.” Worth’s shoulders slumped and she sat back down, next to Panther this time, her small fingers drumming out a worried rhythm on the gritty surface of the roof. There was a grunt from down below and Panther twitched involuntarily, her hand going to her knife as two hands appeared on the top rungs of the ladder. The hands were followed by Much’s freckled, grinning, dirt-besmirched face and eventually the rest of him as he tumbled forwards. “Panther, Panther, look!” proudly, he upended a satchel in her lap. Worth made a curious noise and moved closer. Gold tumbled out, along with several parchment-wrapped, oil-stained packages. He grinned frankly up at her, his brown eyes begging for approval. “I got it- I got it off of a guard near the Mayorhome and thought I would bring it back.” “A guard?” Panther asked, her green eyes widening. Almost proudly, she ruffled her protege’s hair. “Not bad. Did he see you?” ~~~~ Much was blanking. Ascar had simply told him to bring the food and gold back to the Panther. He hadn’t said anything other than that, except for the fact that he’d supply more food tomorrow as long as Much promised to meet up with him again. Ascar hadn’t said what lie he should tell Maethor about how he got it, and if there was one thing Much was lacking in,( other than the ability to be silent), it was creativity. “I… um…” he looked down, hoping the Panther would mistake his silence for modesty. Or embarrassment. “Yeah. He did. He chased me, but I’m fast… and I dodged into an alleyway and got away.” “Good.” was that approval in the Panther's voice? A genuine smile on his face now, Much unwrapped one of the paper-covered packages and examined its contents with relish. Casting the paper aside he grabbed the bread. “Bread… meat… cheese… there’s a package for each of you!” He handed Worth hers and watched in confusion as Maethor shoved hers back into the bag, carrying it over to the rickety tent in the corner and shoving it under a ragged blanket. “I’ll save mine for later- I’m not particularly hungry right now.”
Maethor was pleasantly surprised at the human boy’s knack for stealing. He’d brought back a lot of food… but it was the packaging on it that bothered her. She picked up the wrapping of the twins’ sandwich, of which nothing remained but crumbs, and stared at it. It looked like pages of a letter. Where there weren’t grease-stains and tears in the paper, some of the words were decipherable. The handwriting was slightly slanted, with the characters written hesitatingly as though they were penned by a hand not used to the language. {}Feylord Enoriem Finnian Llumennor to Mayor of Dust City, in greeting. You may have heard of the recent esca[the rest of this word, as well as several of the following sentences, were illegible] With things as they are, we will [sic.] send your benevolence the most recent updates: the madwoman is dangerous and indeed should be captured if she is found. We will reimburse any costs of her damage should she enter your town and We ask that you turn her over to Us dead or alive, as she was under the penal[more illegible] The loan We borrowed for the building of the new castle…{} Maethor set down the paper, nausea fighting in her stomach as well as dizziness in her mind. To use the records of the Mayor of Dust City as wrapping paper… this must’ve been a highranking guard. She quickly scanned the rest, and crumpled it, throwing it into the street without a second thought. The madwoman. That must’ve been her. The dying sun was slowly painting the rest of Dust City’s beige houses in splendid shades of orange and pink, but she ignored it, retreating back to the tattered blanket and retrieving her food. She was about to unwrap it when Much’s head poked inside the tent. “Worth was wondering…” he said hesitantly, not meeting her gaze, “If you could tell us a story before we go to bed. And maybe… maybe sing us a song. Mother used to…” “I’m not your mother.” she snapped. The boy recoiled, hurt spreading across his face. One eye of his was swollen, she noticed, like he had been punched. Regret gnawed in her stomach, but she ignored it. “Stories are for babies and idiots who have nothing better to do than believe the lies spun out for them.” "But they give us hope." "Hope?" Maethor scoffed. "What use is hope? Nothing. It doesn't feed you. Doesn't clothe you. It lets you believe something /may/ happen- it deludes and weakens you. It disappoints. Betrays. Hope is useless." "What did you hope for?" Much queried. His big eyes were wide. "It must have been something big, to leave you so disappointed." Grumbling irritably, she crammed the rest of the food inside her mouth and dragged him away from the tent. "All I ever asked for..." was a home. A place where no one would make her afraid. "was one moment of you being quiet, and yes, I have been disappointed. Apparently it was too much to ask." With a sigh, Much lay down next to his twin. Clearly, they'd be getting no song. No story. In the distance, there was the sound of pushcarts being stowed away as the great city wound down for the night. the sound of the cricket's chirping heralding the darkening of the sky mingled with last-minute cries of bargain prices. His eyes fluttered shut, but before he fell asleep he heard a voice. Surprisingly soft, with a haunting tune that mingled perfectly with the noise of the city. One eye opened. Panther had her back to the twins, so he couldn't see her face, but who else could've been singing? The last verse echoed in his mind as he slipped off into dreamland. It was something about a crumbled castle and the weeping, lonely wind, singing a lament for all that was dead and gone, all the hopes that had slowly faded. Although he didn't know it, the wind wasn't the only thing weeping.
