Songbird: The Mistral Arc

Chapter two: Eventide Brings Quiet...

Evening fell to a pink hue, over the campsite. A few men struck at their steel with blackened flints as sparks sprung out from their curled log forks. The air already began to soft to a comforting coolness; the blades of the halo-ed meadow stilling their dances for the night, in leu of the sky's creeping, violet rest. Tribes folk sat in their sociable circles around their soon-to-be fire pits, already munching on hardtack; everyone's least favorite meal, consumed nearly every night, of the year.

Wren's freckled and sun-kissed nose wrinkled up into a disgusted snarl as she stared down at the biscuit. Hard like a rock, yet dense like a dried-up sponge. With a huff, she tossed it onto the table; arms crossed and wings fluttering within their own separate tantrum.

"Tack, tack, tack, nothin' but tack! Every night! Tack this, tack that! Got a stomach ache? Here, have some ginger and TACK!" She spat down at the bar, closing her eyes as she groaned. Brows twitched as she heard the soft clacks of bronze mugs behind her, relaxing as her mother's soft chuckles lowered to her level as she felt the fabric of the furs mat down next to her. She sighed, pleadingly looking up at her mother. "Can't...can't we put some pepper on it? Pleeeeaase~? I'm sure the merchants-"

She gagged and sputtered as the tack was shoved back into her mouth, her mother returning her suggestion almost immediately. "-Would lose profits that could very well effect their own well-beings, if we took more than needed from them."

The songbird whimpered as she looked back to her limp hands, her wings falling against her back in a somber manner. Clovyr attempted to comfort her as she plopped her hand down onto her head, playfully ruffling it before combing her fingers through smoke-brown hair. "We mustn't snap our jaws at all the good offered to us..."

She smirked as she booped the tip of her nose, with a free hand. "I'm pretty sure your teeth would break if you snapped at that, anyways."

The small child's eyes snapped up to beam at her, a gasp pulling into her lungs as she practically vibrated in place. Her lips spread apart, her nearly full set of teeth gleaming up at Clovyr; her front tooth chipped and broken from biting the ground too hard at yet another failed attempt at flying. "Then maybe I'll get my grownup teeth!"

She gripped her tack, opening her mouth as if to chomp down on it. The angelic woman snorted, leaning back in bellowed laughter before gripping her daughters' chin, pulling it from side-to-side as the rest of her head followed. "You do that, people will start calling you 'horsey' with a overgrown set, like that! You really want that, birdie?"

Wren giggled giddily, managing to push her mother's arms away. Gripping her hands into fists, she nodded triumphantly up at the tall woman. "Yes!"

The two laughed, only stopping as they heard the drapes of their tent pull back. Wren grunted and panted as she quickly attempted to get up, nearly tripping before zooming to grip onto her dad's knee. His face previously looked in thought shifted into a genuinely surprised, yet pleased look as the tiny hug bandit clinged to his shin. A muffled "papa," buzzed against the thick cotton of his pants.

With an awkward shuffle, he made his way over to his now-standing lover. Firm lips pressed to each other briefly before he pulled back with a sigh, "...Days like these remind me why I am no Politian." He grimaced, grumbling past his clenched teeth. "The fool...couldn't get a word out without him being all top-'n-tidy, like some sort of damn-"

Clovyr's hands pulled him down into yet another kiss, his growls and frustrated squawks creeping into silence as he relaxed into their embrace; their daughter now being the one to grown and grimace and her parent's sloppy affection. She pulled back, briefly whispering "language," before walking back over to their bundle of furs and pelts. Patting next to her, she called over to them. "Now come over and eat your supper."

He looked down at his still clinging daughter, whom confirmed his suspicions with unhoused tone. "Tack, again."

The beastly man chuckled, reaching down to pull her from his leg. He tossed her over his broad shoulder as she screeched in laughter. "C'mon, slugger. We all gotta suffer from something. And it's either tack or your mother's cooking."

He did not flinch as he sat down, simply grunting as a fist went straight into his gut; his daughter sliding off his back to flop down onto the bedding. He managed to weakly grin down at her; an old spark of rivalry connecting like a pulled fishing line between the two.

She scoffed, shaking her fist playfully into it barely rubbed off his nose. Turning back to the mugs, she offered one to him. "Oh yeah? Suppose you would prefer another wife who gave you swill instead of the good stuff, hmm?"

The sweetness of the mead clung to the air beneath his sensitive nose. While still technically swill itself, it was at least more satisfying to the pallet than watered-down ale and beer. Stars, he may have been a man, but he would never pretend to like the bitterness of stale grains and watery hops. And at least she took the effort to learn the craft of wine-making; a practice she learned after being took-in by the leader of the mercenaries after refusing to not let her care go unpaid for. The corners of his lips turned as he reached for the mug. "Okay, okay...you win this time, angel."

Wren blinked, looking past them at the pale flicker of a nearby lantern. The words left her mouth, without a second thought. "That's what she called me..."

Her parents looked down at her, her father frowning and tilting his head curiously. "Her? What do you mean by that, 'lil scout?"

She turned back up at the, face slowly morphing into realized fear as her a-gap mouth flapped uselessly, like the broken hinge of a nut cracker. Her mother gave her the look, arms crossed and all. She only had to raise a brown before the little bird sighed and gave in. "I, um...Lea. Az-ale-lee. I talked to her, today."

Touma slowly nodded, grunting as his voice eventually pulled through from the turning gears, of his head. "I... see..." A smile eventually took his lips, "This is good!"

The two looked up in shock at him, a moment passing before his lover snorted with her hand resting on top of his. "Really?"

He simply nodded before confirming with a simple, "Really."

The golden sparrow giggled, their daughter continuing to stare silent stars at her father from his acceptance of it. Clovyr shined her canines at him, "Mr. Touma 'My daughter must be prepared for her day of transference and can never have fun' Shikra, let his child get away with skipping out on her studies?"

The lumbering warrior scowled down at her; the hawk's maple-red eyes piercing down at her before surrendering at her playful peers. He looked back down at his daughter, his scarred lips pulling up as he plopped a hand down on top of her head. "Whatever helps wear her out, in time for bed."

She growled, gripping both hands around his meaty wrist. "Never! Sleep is for the weak!"

The hawk sneered, lifting her up as she continued to hold onto his arm. Holding her face up to his level, he spoke. "And you, slugger, are still very weak and need your rest to become strong."

She squealed out in surprise as he briefly blew a raspberry against her cheek before letting go and resigning her fate to plop against the bundles of covers. Her giggles slowed to a halt before she looked back up to her dad. "...Like you?"

His eyes briefly swelled with pride before he leaned down, throwing the pelts over her body in an instinctively protective measure. "I was going to say like your mother. But yes... you are also my daughter. The best of the both of us. Except for looks, that is. Stars, you'd live a very unfortunate life if you inherited my mug." He pecked her nose, grabbing the lantern nearby the table. "Get some rest, little bird... You're getting up early with me, tomorrow."

Clovyr's eyes widened, pupils narrowing at what he was possibly implying. She gripped at the edge of his sleeve, causing him to turn and return her worried gaze. Red connected with green marbles, a silent conversation shared between two bonded souls. He softly nodded before she sighed, forgoing the argument held back behind her tongue.

Wren looked between the two of them, her hidden nose and mouth peeking out from behind the bear's skin. Her voice came out in an anticipated whisper, "...Are we...scouting out together?"

He offered her a single nod, watching on with a gentle smile as she rolled herself in a cocoon; her excited rambled muffled from the thick furs. Clovyr leaned against her lover's shoulder, the two allowing the child to let out her excitement, for a few moments.

After a bit, she peeked back up at them. Her lambent smile shining brightly at them, "Can I have a sword?"

"No." He answered a bit too quickly, her smile deflating into a curved line. He gripped her nose, pinching it and shaking it between his pointer and middle finger. "I do have a bit of a present for you, though. Albus worked very hard-."

The storms in her eyes flashed excited lightning at him, "Master Krish made me something?! What is it?"

Clovyr leaned down, her hand cupping the top of her head; sweeping the curve of her head as she pushed her bangs back to kiss her forehead. "Now, now. That'd ruin the surprise~."

Wren giggled, closing her eyes at her mother's tender affections. "But, it's not my birthday! I don't turn eight in 7 and-a three quarters-of-a-month!"

A rough chuckle puffed from his nose, "Eight, sweetie. And... tomorrow is special. I recruited his help for when you join us. It was gonna be later, but..."

Clovyr continued his sentence with her casual, playful manner she always seemed to bring forth. "That, yoooooouuu~..." She pulled her hand back, wiggling her finger as she mover it forward until it jabbed into, Wren's chest. "Have to make up for missing training this morning, anyways."

Wren looked up in child-like horror; akin to a young one in school and receiving homework, on a Friday. "You mean...I still have to train, after it?!"

Clovyr pointed down at her, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. "The sooner you get done, the sooner you can see..."

Wren blinked, taking a moment to realize her mother was hinting towards a name. Her wings fluttered in excitement, "Oh! Azalea! She's the pink girl!"

Her parents frowned, her mother tilting her head and being the one to speak as Touma remained content to listen. "Pink? I thought she was more so...pale."

Wren nodded, confirming. "Uh-huh! She is! But, when I got closer, I noticed she wasn't just snowy. Kinda like...The lotus when it first opens, and the petals aren't quite pink. She's pink! But not like mama's pretty dance dress, like...Like..." Her voice lowered into an incomprehensible mumble, her hand gripping her chin in thought. Her parents openly smiled down at her in amusement, looking to each other as if they were prepared to interrupt. Her eyes snapped open as she suddenly shouted out. "Like, if you complimented a snowman, and he got embarrassed!"

Her mother snorted, laughing into her hand. Wren frowned, blinking and sputtering before clenching the pelts in her fists. Her cheeks spread with warmth, the feathers on the wrists of her wings fluffing up in response. "H-Hey! What's so funny?!"

Her dad shook his head, a smile remaining on his face. His large paw rested on her shoulder as he carefully laid her back down. "Nothing, little bird. It's a perfect description." Around the same area where his wife did, he too pecked at her forehead. "Now, get some rest. You get up early enough, you may be able to say goodbye to your new friend."

Tucking half of her face under the furs, she nodded almost shyly before turning on her side and curling up. Her father stood back up, taking the lantern back into his hands as he took it along with him, outside the tent. Clovyr stood up to follow, only pausing as a voice reached out to her.

"...Was she right?"

Clovyr turned back to her daughter, her silken smile curling as she whispered back to her child. "About what, songbird?"

Stormy orbs turned to the corners of her eyes, staring up at the golden sparrow; the moonlight reflecting past her white-gold feathers and wild mane of hair. Her skin seemingly glowing with a pure aura as the light shown past her. "...Are you an angel?"

She blinked, a small huff passing through her nose as the mother's chest swelled a bit at the question. She thought for a moment before answering, "...Angels are...ideal, at best."

Wren's bottom lips fell, her lips pursing and pulling in a twitch to the left side of her face. She glanced briefly at the golden wings on her mother's back, "Why's that, Ma? Master Krish says ideas are good. That every move, song, and word come from one."

Clovyr closed her eyes, her pale lips pulling into an adoring smile at the naivety of her child. "They can be. But everyone has their own spirits. Or rather...'angels,' as the Atlassian's have always preferred them to be called. Different already, yes?" Wren simply grunted in conformance, nodding. "Well...your good...is not someone else's good. I don't want to be someone else's 'good.' Nor, would I ever want to be my own. I do not trust the flawless. They are either inexperienced with life...Ooooor, they are simply liars. Strive to experience and embrace your flaws, that is how you gr-uh..."

She cleared her throat, her curled knuckle pressed firmly against her lips as she tried to pass the dreadful word, from her lips. "...That is how you grow. You're your father's child..." She flashed her a mellow smile, those storm-grey eyes practically sparkling up at her. "You're gonna be strong, if you allow yourself to grow." She pushed aside the girthed curtains of the tent, her voice whispering out in a coo. "Sleep tight, little bird."

Wren watched quietly as her mother ducked out. Looked down to her hands, eyes studied her soft palms before clenching them. She closed her eyes, huffing as her chest momentarily puffed out; head held high and the bridged of her wings stiff. Tomorrow, she'd have the change to roughen her hands. She wiggled in place, flopping down forcefully to stop herself from springing up with excitement.

Growth...

She rolled a bit from her side, lifting the helm of her shirt. She pulled free the hidden, half-eaten piece of biscuit tack that was tucked securely in her pocket. She clenched it in her teeth, laying back down as she nuzzled into hides layered beneath her.

Clovyr stopped at the hide curtains of the tent, she stared at the blades of grass,

Continuing out, she looked back up to catch her husband leaning against one of the young black pines that surrounded their camp. He offered that familiar, comforting smile; small and warm, like the glowing ember of a hearth. She sighed, marching towards him before bumping her forehead against his chest. He chuckled, looking down at her as she murmured into him. "...I don't want her to grow up."

He tucked a strand of hair, behind her ear. Humming as he listened, he took a breath before continuing. "If she didn't grow up, she'd never be able to protect herself. Then, we'd wither away as our flower awaits the storm."

Gripping his dark gambeson beneath her fingers, she looked back up to him. Hesitantly, she managed a smirk up at him. "Ah, so you really don't mind her being as strong as you, hmm?" He rolled his eyes down at her, grunting in response; flinching as her fingers traced his jawline, pink scars lining his umber skin as raven hairs scarcely covered it, thinly. "And frankly, I prefer your 'mug.' Even if it was a bit difficult to look at, at first."

Whew! This was a longtime coming! Sorry for the wait. Life 'n shit, y'know? Work around 60 or so hours during mid-September through late October, so it's a bit difficult to find the time for writing. I apologize in advance for the long waits to come. Hopefully, during the winter, I'll have more time to write since I won't be getting as much labor hours.

As always, happy reading and feel free to leave a not or personal message me with critiques or anything 'Songbird' related!

I do not own RWBY. RWBY is owned and produced by RoosterTeeth. Please support the original show!