Some days ago...

Rurram eyed a singular branch that extended out from the might tree before him, a determined look on his face as if staring down a monster that was five times his size. He'd never been particularly scared of much growing up, much to his older brother's chagrin, Erol being unable to faze him with scary stories he'd taken from Cephia's books and later embellished to try and frighten the child even a little bit. Beyond an initial fright, Rurram would simply fall into a giggling fit, almost amused by his own reaction rather than scared of the story.

Even such a daunting task as climbing a tree proved to be more an issue of determining the best course of action, rather than whether or not to attempt such a thing. He knew he would, eventually. Sure enough, with a quick nod, Rurram grabbed ahold of whatever bark he could, pulling himself just high enough that his legs could half-wrap around the trunk, his knees doing more to keep him anchored than his feet, which tried to find a a slab of bark to push off of.

Slowly enough, but surely still, Rurram managed his way up the tree, making sure to take a look up to the tallest branch periodically, reminding himself of his ultimate goal, his eyes glazing over as he caught sight, once again, of the true target of his desire- a bright red apple, resting just out of reach from any ladder he could have acquired. He grinned mischievously, almost like he took some sort of pride in conquering gravity, and despite working up a sweat, he took ahold of the branch, pulling himself up to where he could straddle along it and shimmy along until he was within reach of his prize, greedily snatching the fruit and swaying his head back and forth happily as he took a bite, now surveying the landscape around him, seeing as how he had a far greater point of observation.

He noticed Erol returning home from atop the hill, his head and limbs dangling pathetically as he slid down the muddy slope, catching Rurram's curiosity. It wasn't often he caught his older brother in the throes if some downtrodden mood, particularly because Erol was "too cool" to allow his kid brother to see him less than the man he aspired to be, even at his age.

Rurram frowned sadly, leaning down so that his torso was against the limb, waiting for Erol to walk I to earshot before speaking, "Hey, brother."

Erol jumped in surprise, looking around to find the source of his brother's voice, "Okay, cut it out. Where are you?"

Without addressing the question, Rurram continued, sadly, "You okay?"

His voice being enough, Erol turned up toward the top branch of the apple tree, groaning as he realized that his brother must have seen him just a moment ago, "It's nothing. Just keep…keep doing whatever it is you're doing."

As the elder brother began toward the house again, Rurram dropped his arm down, reaching out his hand with the single-bitten apple, a sad look on his face, "Would this help?"

Erol sighed, knowing that such kind of person as his brother was simply being wasted on this brusque family, shaking his head as he answered lowly, "No. You earned it."

Rurram remained attentive as his brother disappeared into the house, still not convinced by his earlier admission that nothing was wrong. He carefully scurried down from his conquered tree, meandering up the hill to investigate further, taking miniscule bites out from his apple, having learned much earlier that the rind was the tastiest part.

As he came up to see the stables not far from him, he noticed Niras' wagon sitting along the dirt road, with Cephia sitting up in its passenger seat, appearing rather distant as she primly held her hands in her lap, staring off into space. The cogs in Rurram's mind beginning to churn, he walked along, toward the wagon, when his father and Niras left the stable, conversing amongst themselves with ginormous words of commerce that Rurram had no business even understanding at this age.

"-last one. A real stunner he is, took the Beggar's Turn like a champion, so I'll need a spot opened up. Care to take one?" Niras wondered aloud.

"Really?" Darim questioned in wonderment, "Are you sure?"

Niras chuckled, "Well it's either that or spend my savings building another stable! C'mon, I've given you enough dead-tired beasts; you deserve something you can actually enjoy watching running across the pasture."

"W-Wow," Darim softly exclaimed, unable to afford much of anything that wasn't expected to perish within the year, "I mean, I'd be more than happy to. Thank you."

"No problem, my friend," Niras smirked, "How about Barus? You seemed mighty happy with him when I first mentioned him."

Darim grumbled to himself, trying to remind himself, "Barus… Barus…"

Offering a helpful tongue, Niras happily reminded, "Y'know, the sploched one I stumbled upon down-"

Coming upon Cephia, Rurram's attention focused forward, his lips pulled to the side in confusion as he came to a stop right alongside the wagon, speaking up quietly, "Hey Ceph."

As though being pulled from a dream, Cephia's head suddenly whipped around, a surprised look fading into a relieved sigh, "Oh, goodness Rurram, you nearly caused me a fright!"

"S-Sorry," Rurram apologized, though it did little to alleviate his confusion, as hed been clearly within her line of sight, "Are you okay?"

Cephia's hand, which had jumped up to her chest in her shock, fell back into her lap as she bowed her head sadly, "It's nothing. I've just been thinking."

Groaning childishly, his curiosity once again abated, Rurram turned away with a frown, "Everybody's always thinking."

Cephia released a gentle smile, "Maybe that just comes with age."

"I guess," Rurram shrugged, "Doesn't sound much fine from what I hear. Every time I hear the word 'responsibility', it might as well be a bad word. Dad's gone on whole speeches about it over dinner."

Giggling at his precociousness, Cephia replied excitedly, "You mean you don't want to etch out your own place in this world?"

He frowned, "I'll I've done so far is etch out the crud from the horse stalls…"

Cephia refrained from teasing, simply staring off as she went on, "Well, it's not like you have to care for horses when you grow up. You could go off and do whatever you want. I mean, assuming you have your father's allowance of that…"

She turned her head over her shoulder, looking at their two father's still conversing, "Something seems off about him though."

"His balance," Rurram answered, mutely, as he tossed the core of his apple on the ground, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Last winter he screwed up his knee. I don't know how; I don't even think mom knows, but the three of us were so busy that we hadn't even realized he had been go e nearly all day. By the time mom realized, he just barely made his way into the house with a broken leg. Must have dragged himself maybe, but like I said, he never really explained it."

"Huh," Cephia murmured aloud, having turned back to Rurram, "He's never really seemed the type to be open about much, huh?"

Rurram groaned, "Erol caught it from him. I just try to help him feel better and he won't even bother."

Cephia's lips turned low, sadly, "Sorry…"

Now eyeing her suspiciously, Rurram questioned, "Why..? You didn't do something, did you?"

"It's more like something I didn't do," Cephia confided, quietly, "I hoped it didn't hurt him too much."

Rurram's eyes remained slanted, his childish mind still fully capable of rummaging through memories, collects bits and pieces of information until his synapses finally let loose with a, "Wait, did he ask to marry you?!"

Cephia's eyes blew up wide, "W-WHAT?! N-NO! He-He just-!"

"Marry?" Niras' voice suddenly appeared from behind the two, throwing a rucksack over the edge if the wagon, "What're you kids talking about these days?"

He turned to Darim with an amused smirk, though his peer's face only appeared serious as he watched his son turn his head toward his father, Rurram's lips pulling inward as he realized what he'd just inadvertently revealed. Darim's attention returned to Niras as the younger man went on without a thought, stepping up onto the front of the wagon and waving back toward his friend.

"I'll be back in a few days with the horse, assuming you're not too excited to see him!"

"Oh, no," Darim waved him off, "No need to rush, please. This is a kind enough gesture as it is, I assure you."

As the two finished their pleasantries, Rurram couldn't help but shiver as Niras slapped at the reins, the departing wagon signaling to the young child that his father's deep stare was equally approaching. Sure enough, as the wagon rolled out of earshot, Darim turned to Rurram, a serious look on his face.

"Who's been talking about getting married..?" he muttered.

Rurram's knees nearly clattered together as he bit his lower lip, his mind flooded with both his father's reaction as well as his older brother's reaction once the two were alone; two scoldings he would rather not endure. Still, as his head lowered to the ground, Rurram shut his eyes tight, nearly gritting his teeth as he answered.

"I-It's not like that; Erol was just-"

"Your brother, huh?" Darim interrupted alongside a slow nod, "Your fifteen year old brother?"

Rurram's head jolted up in a panic, "No, he wasn't talking about that! He just wanted run off and be his own man and whatever; he just mentioned the possibility of…"

His voice trailed off as his father's face grim more and more twisting in anger, Rurram knowing gradually enough that he'd made one too many missteps. His lips trembled as emotion flooded over him, first from his prediction of his being scolded, and now from what he was afraid his father was about to do to his brother. Darim remained dead silent, turning toward the decline of the hill and walking off, his leg still bearing a slight hobble as Rurram's brow curled in worry as he rushed after him.

"D-Dad! It was just him talking; he didn't mean it!"

As though not hearing him, Darim simply gave instruction, "Go lock up the stable."

Rurram shook visibly, torn between running ahead and telling Erol to run off or following his father's orders, rather quick to choose the latter as he stood still for a moment, grabbing his head as he watched his father slowly work his way down the slope. He groaned pitifully as he turned back toward the stable, shaking his head as he walked back, worriedly.