While I write the next chapters of Causing Worry and I'm NOT Overreacting, I wrote this as a short break from the chapters I am currently working on. If you read my story, A Lesson Learned At Caraway, there is a reference from this story in it. :)

Halt drained the last of his coffee. His new apprentice was sitting on the edge of his chair, looking very much like a bird ready to take flight. His bright blue eyes were watching the older Ranger intently. "What are you staring at, boy?" Halt asked gruffly.

Giving a wide smile, Gilan pushed himself onto the balls of his feet, his soft leather boots bending easily with the motion. "Why do you put honey in your coffee?"

Yes, Halt decided, from the constant, flighty movements, to the thinly built frame, the boy was very birdlike. "Because I do."

Gilan's smile widened, his eyes sparkling merrily.

Halt eyed the boy. "I don't know why you're happy."

Gilan swung his leg against the chair. "I'm always happy." The tall boy said simply.

Halt grunted. Getting up, the Ranger moved to rinse his mug of the few remaining drops of coffee. Turning back to Gilan, he said, "After you sweep the cabin, I'll show you our primary weapons."

Gilan leaped abruptly from his chair, tripping as his foot caught on the chair leg. Halt shook his head. The boy's long limbs and endless energy would get them into trouble yet.

Halt stopped in the clearing where he had set the weapons out and pulled a green-gray cloak out of his bag. Unfolding the fabric, he held it up, glancing at his apprentice as he did so. "Well," The Ranger said skeptically, "I suppose it will do for now."

Gilan had eagerly taken the cloak from Halt's offering hand. Pulling it on, the boy asked, "What do you mean, 'I suppose it will do for now?'"

Halt raised his eyebrow. "Well, seeing as how it barely reaches the backs of your knees, I suppose I mean that it is too short and needs to be lengthened." Bending down, Halt picked up a bow. Not as large as the full longbow, but still a reasonably formidable weapon, the recurve bow had a lower draw weight that new apprentices could handle. "This is the bow you'll use till you're strong enough for a longbow. A recurve bow."

Gilan took the bow. Running his hands over the smooth, strong wood, he noted the curved pieces that gave the bow its name. Looking up eagerly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Gilan said, "It's wonderful! When can I shoot it?"

Halt, having seen the boy moving from either excitement or energy-or both- hastily answered, "Not now. Later. After the coffee has worked its way out of your system."

Gilan cast another glance at the bow, then nodded with a smile. "That's probably a good idea."

Halt had already retrieved the other items he wished to show. "This," He said, gesturing to a short, well balanced knife, "Is your throwing knife. Its weight is distributed for better throwing." Halt showed the larger knife. "And this, is your saxe knife."

Gilan watched with an awed smile. "The saxe knife is big compared to the throwing knife."

Halt nodded. " And sharp. Extremely sharp and extremely hard. It would slice through your finger as easily as a dinner knife through warm butter."

The apprentice gazed at the knife with new found respect. "Can I hold it?"

Halt reluctantly passed the knife over. "It's sharp. Don't touch the blade." The Ranger reinforced, not altogether trusting his energetic young charge. Gilan nodded enthusiastically. Halt turned to pick up the quiver of arrows. He turned around, his stomach dropping, as he heard a loud, sharp cry of pain. Gilan was in the same position, the only changes being his rapidly paling face and the blood streaming from his hand. His finger, to be exact.

"I told you NOT to touch the blade!" Halt said loudly, trying to keep the rising panic out of his voice as he swiftly moved to the boy.

"I-I- d-d-in't-t m-mean to!" The boy stuttered, trying to keep the tears from running down his cheeks as Halt more closely inspected the wound. Why did I take this boy as an apprentice?! Halt thought wildly as he took in how deep it was. Outwardly, however, he said, only slightly higher pitched then normal,

"Don't move." Halt then turned to dig through his bag, giving a sigh of relief when he found the needle and fine thread. Moving back to the now shaking boy, Halt said, "Another rule of being a Ranger: Always have medical supplies! Especially if you have a stupid apprentice."

Gilan's glazed eyes widened as he took in the needle. "No needle..." He begged, taking several steps back, only to have Halt tightly grab his forearm.

"It needs stitches." Halt said firmly, moving his hand up the thin arm till he had hold at the widest part of the boy's hand. Quickly, he shoved the needle through the skin before the apprentice could protest.

"OUCH! That HURT!" Gilan yelped.

"It's better than not having a finger!" Halt snapped, then shoved the needle through again, this time not allowing any time for a reaction before pushing it in again. After several more pushes, he finally released Gilan's hand.

Gilan, breathing heavily, said ruefully, "That hurt just about as much as the cut."

Halt, back to his usual grim self now the panic had passed, replied dryly, "You were a much bigger pansy about the stitches."

Gilan opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. A second later, a smile broke through. "At least I know for myself how sharp the saxe is! Can you believe it did that when I just barely brushed my finger?"

How is he already smiling? Halt thought incredulously. "Yes, I told you it's sharp." He said, picking up the forgotten saxe knife and placing it carefully in its scabbard. "I'm carrying your saxe home. You take the bow and the throwing knife- and yes, the throwing knife is VERY sharp, so actually listen this time and do NOT touch the blade."

Gilan happily picked up his assigned items. "I can't wait to tell my father that I nearly cut off my finger!"

I'm not quite sure how much I like this story, but I was bored and wanted to write. You can let me know what you think in a review! *hint hint*

-TrustTheCloak