Topic: Chapter II - Hale R. Kaverek

Hale

Date: 2005-10-25 22:45 EST
The boy, plucked atop all fours, was bluffed into a mute; his eyes doing as much speaking as possible. In his shaky hand, his knife was begrudgingly anchored. The old man contorted into a curious side-nod, and relinquished his smile. "What's the matter" You should be thankful you're still alive."

Hale could take many things, but not a shot to his adolescent ego; it had matured beyond his age. Springing to his feet with a steadfast wobble, he waved the dagger around like a loose tooth. The man seemed delightfully amused at his heir.

"Well, you are something, huh." "Give me that," a gesture to his belt with an eye and a nod.

"Well young man I don't think I can! It keeps my trousers up, you see. I don't think these fine folk want to see an old bare his genes, do you?" "I don't care what you think. Give me that, or..." a slight hesitation, but his eyes pushed up in ironclad vigor.

"Or" You'll stab me" I don't think that spoon you got there could even pass through my wrinkled skin. Do you?"

Hale was wailing the sour notes at this point. He hated people who bore such arrogant confidence. Brooding a grim overbite now; his incisors clipped over his lip as his stomach churned in a putrid rancor. "Just shut up and give it to me. I don't have time to stand here all day." "Haha, oh I am sorry. I know ruffians like you have important deadlines, and time limits." Gripping the last coattails of his rage, Hale tried his best to restrain himself. So, in a quick, jerking motion he tried at an attempt to cut the belt right off him, as originally planned. But now that he was -facing- him, it made the task that much harder. And that was only the half of it. Hale found his limb swinging dead now, without solid confirmation, his body lunged forward, out of control. After a few wasted steps of defeat, Hale felt a cold, empty depth dig into his spine. Beaten by a relic. Turning in attention, he knew what he'd find, and he sighed in the filled prediction. The old man mocked a grin, his old hands lingering around the belt's collar.

Hale wouldn't stand around, and let him kick sand in his heart anymore. So, gathering up his bearings, he began to trot off, eyes corroded in granite.

"Wait," the man called. Hale turned, enveloped in curiosity and a semi-hatred.

"What's your name young man." "What do you care" What's your name?"

"Hmm. I haven't been asked that in a while. Yashun Elliar Cranger. I run the academy up the road." With a welcoming nod, he pointed to the large building with the towering set of stairs. Hale was quite astonished. Something he didn't experience often. However the last thing he'd do was let him know.

"Oh yeah' So what." The old man smiled, and shook his head.

"I guess 'so nothing'. Just evening the field. You're a beggar, and I'm a teacher." "I'm no beggar you artifact."

He nodded, seriousness cobbled into a blink.

"Excuse me then. Hmm. Well?" "Well...?" "Your name?" "Hale." "Hale. Hmmh."

The man delved into a stormy thought before speaking again.

"How do you like living on the street." "I guess the only kick you get out of life is degrading the less fortunate, huh?"

"No no no....I have an offer for you."

Hale tore his eyes away from him and shook his head.

"If it's charity forget it." "No. I wonder if maybe you'd like to join my school?"



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