"Brother, they are there again." Rangil complained, having barely peeked outside the house. "I'm scared to go outside."
Seeing his brother's discouraged eyes, Beor huffed and gave his uncle's still sleeping foundling a disgruntled look.
"I cannot go out there and work. What if one of them explodes again?" Rangil nervously clenched his hands. Beor frowned, his lips pinching as he thought about all the things he would have to do alone if his brother couldn't help. Then, his eyes lit up.
"I know what might work." He declared.
A few minutes later, he was all ready to go. His outside work robe securely on his back, he finished putting on a robe on their uncle's little foundling. Placing the child back down on the floor, Beor critically checked to make sure that everything was in order. Rangil watched him with uncertain eyes.
"Are you sure it will be all right?" He asked doubtfully. They both exchanged a look. They both could very well remember how Beor's previous idea turned out to be. Then Beor stubbornly shook his head.
"It will be fine. I think it will draw them away so you can get a few chores done for once and don't have to worry." The bigger villager said firmly. He then glanced at their aged uncle, still asleep in his chair by the fireplace. Their uncle was snoring.
He must have come out to comfort his foundling, when he started having nightmares again. Lately, the child was having trouble sleeping and started waking up often at night, whimpering or crying out. They were not sure what caused it. Maybe something scary that happened to him when he was wandering out there in the woods? Yet, he still seemed eager to run off there every morning.
"Tell our uncle that I took him with me. We'll be back by noon at the latest." Beor assured.
Although still not appearing convinced, the younger villager nodded. Beor looked down at Grake's foundling, who was looking up at him from the floor where he was put. Sleepily, the child's eyelids drooped. Apparently deciding that the floor was as good a place as any, the toddler tried to lie down, his eyes drifting closed. Beor picked him up again.
Using a wrap, he with Rangil's help secured the nodding off toddler to his back.
"Atta? I want to come." A small voice spoke up. Turning back, Beor found Margol peeking out of his room, a pout on his face. Through half-open door, the villager saw his second child, Tnul, still snoozing in his bed, arms and legs sprawled all over.
Beor went over and smiled, patting the child on his head.
"When you are older, kari."
Margol pouted. "But he is smaller." He complained, looking at Hero with jealousy. Unaware of the attention, Grake's little foundling continued to sleep, his cheek pressed against Beor's back and mouth slightly open and slobbering.
"I'm just getting him out of the way, so the creepers leave. Your uncle Rangil needs to get some work done and I need a rest. I'm going to get some berries for us and then tonight we can all have a sweet-berry pie. Your favorite." Beor smiled.
The little villager's face brightened, only to get gloomy again. He stubbornly stuck out his lip.
"I want to come."
"All right. Maybe next time, then." Beor gave in. Satisfied, the little villager relaxed.
"Listen to your uncle Rangil and your grandpa. I'll be back by noon." Beor reminded. Margol nodded much more happily and ran back to his bed, plopping down and pulling his blanket up to his ears. Beor smiled at that a little, then nodded to his brother and stepped off outside.
Bright morning rays of the sun met him and distant songs of birds.
He hesitated only briefly at the sight of several creepers curled up at the side of the house, who immediately perked up at the sight of the big villager. Their luminescent, green eyes immediately honed on Hero, sleeping on his back. Making little glad chirps, they bounced to Beor's legs. He sucked in his breath, briefly freezing, but then uneasily smiled.
"Y-you... can play with him a little later." He told them in appeasing tone, even though he was fairly sure that the creatures couldn't understand him. They paused, not seeing Hero's response, and looked back to the woods, ignoring the big villager.
"And away from where anyone can see you." Beor concluded with a mutter under his breath, casting a wary glance toward the still sleeping village. What would the reaction of other villagers be once they learned of this strange reaction of monsters to Grake's little human?
He stepped off toward the path leading into the woods, at first cautiously, then more boldly as the creatures streaked away from him into grass, where they vanished between the blooming flowers. Only slight movement here and there betrayed their presence.
With a bit more confident bounce, Beor headed down the path in long, large strides. His assurance returned, filling his body with lightness and strength and he took deep breaths as he walked. The morning air was still cool and the long shadows of the trees kept the rising rays of the sun from his face. He enjoyed the feeling of solitude. For some reason, it made him feel... free?
"Beor? Where are you headed off so early in the morning?" A curious voice startled him to an abrupt stop, his heart briefly jumping in his chest.
Beor blinked at Grisham, their former neighbor. The older villager smiled at him, but his eyes looked on with a bit of ever-present suspicion. Beor uneasily smiled back.
"Good morning, uncle Grisham." He offered politely. The villager nodded with approval, still looking Beor over and noting details. Beor once again felt as if he was little and anxiously waiting for a grown-up to approve that he got his attire correctly for some grown-up ceremony of which was a countless number – villagers valued their traditions and celebrations.
"Good morning, good morning." The villager's eyes settled on Grake's foundling strapped to Beor's back and immediately lit up with curiosity, then narrowed.
Ever since Beor decided to move his family slightly further away from the hustle and bustle of the village and traded his uncle's old home to the Grisham's ever-growing family, along with improvements he already made on it, the old villager acted far more cordial to them than before, according to uncle Grake. He also helped him once, when Hero was very little.
Beor, though, found the old villager's constant interference annoying. Now that they learned of the strange reaction of the monsters toward his uncle's foundling, Beor was doubly glad that he moved a bit away from the rest of the village, so their neighbor's well-meaning visits ceased - it was too far.
What was he even doing out here of the village this early in the morning?
"Grake's foundling? Where are you taking him?" The old villager asked with suspicion. Beor didn't voice his grumble, only made a sheepish smile.
"I just thought I would give my uncle a break. My brother is watching our other little ones, but I thought I will take him along. He runs off and doesn't listen. This way I can keep a better eye on him."
"Ah, yes, yes, I remember." The villager thoughtfully nodded, but then his eyes narrowed. "I remember you lost him a month ago. You and old Grake looked for him everywhere."
Beor stifled a sigh. These older villagers didn't work anymore and had nothing better to do than to busybody into everyone else's affairs.
"Well, you better be careful. Taking him to the woods? There are monsters afoot. Creepers, lots of them. Villagers have been seeing them a lot around our village of late. I think they sense that there is a Human nearby. Surprised that they have not found him, yet." The old villager's eyes held on the little Human.
"We dress him in a villager robe. He is still little, so they cannot tell he is not a villager." Beor explained.
The older villager's eyes critically surveyed the little Human, who still snoozed, lips pursed and cheek smooshed against the side of the cloth. The suspicion in those green eyes lessened a bit.
"Hmmm, true, true... That's what elder Haren said as well. You are lucky those beasts are not very clever. And he is still very small, yes." The villager's eyes settled once again on the sleeping Human. "How old is he now? Three years old?"
Beor humphed. Why did all old villagers want to find slight with younger villagers and start going off on lectures? His uncle was the same way, always suggesting how to do things better when Beor already came up with new and better ways to do things!
"Two and a half." Beor said firmly. "And he eats a lot. We make sure of it. He just... doesn't grow much for some reason." The villager closed his mouth and Beor inwardly humphed, satisfied. He had guessed the villager's complaint right and nipped it in the bud.
"So, you are going to..."
"Gather berries. Just a bucket or two." Beor shrugged lightly.
"How are you going to keep him with you, then? Isn't he going to run off? He still doesn't understand a word we say, isn't that right?" Green eyes narrowed in speculation once more.
"He understands a few words." Beor defended his uncle's foundling. He had overheard the villagers gossiping that Grake's foundling might be a nitwit Human if there was such a thing and he didn't like it. Grake's Human was part of his family now and no one should say bad things about his family, especially if they were not true. "He just doesn't say any. Its hard for Humans, you know it, uncle Grish. And it will be easy to keep him next to me. I'll just tie him." Beor said lightly.
Noticing the villager's changing expression, he sheepishly chuckled and pulled out a long rope coiled at his side. To the end of it was attached a small, leather harness.
"I made this. Its like a saddle, so I can attach the rope to it. It doesn't hurt him, but he cannot take it off. I brought his blanket, too, and his favorite toys. That way he can play while I work. Its fine, Grisham, do not worry."
"Ah." The villager visibly relaxed. Laughter danced in Beor's green eyes and it was the other villager's turn to chuckle, the suspicion in his eyes dwindling.
"You're very inventive, child. Good job. But do keep a good eye for the monsters. It would be a pity if something happened to him., Your uncle really cares for him, you know."
Guilt briefly stirred, but Beor pushed it down.
"I know, I know." The younger villager brashly waved it off. "Have a good day, uncle Grish. I must be going."
"Good day, good day." The villager humphed. Beor walked around him and kept going, still feeling the villager's evaluative eyes follow him. Going around the bend of the path, which hid the old villager from view, Beor breathed out a sigh of relief.
Just a little later, he was already at the upper end of the valley and not too far from the place where his uncle originally found Hero, where a really strange, big oak had appeared as if by magic. There were also numerous berry bushes nearby, which caught Beor's eye when he was here last time with uncle Grake, looking for Hero.
The large proliferation of sweet berry bushes met his eyes and the young villager smiled. His green eyes searched out a small lawn, secluded from sight of the path. With confidence that few of the villagers would feel while out in the wilds, the villager strode straight through the tall grass. Placing Hero and his blanket on the ground, he spread out the blanket and pulled out Hero's toys and laid them on it. Then, attaching the harness around the child's robe, he uncoiled the rope and hooked it around the nearest tree.
Grake's foundling yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Discovering the green woods around him, white eyes opened wider with interest.
"That's right. We're taking a little trip to the woods. Let's see how this goes." Beor grinned at the child. "And here is a little snack." He pulled out a small pouch with cookies. Child's face lit up. He even ignored the creepers, who peeked out of the bushes and gave him a questioning chirp.
"Just ignore them, hmmm. All right. I will." Beor murmured his uncle's frequently repeated advice under his nose and pretended not to see them. At least, unlike his brother, he didn't feel too timid about these creatures.
Rangil was scared of them, because when he was a child, he had a very close call with one of them. He badly injured his leg and then spent nearly a week laying in bed, drowsy and dizzy with healing potions. Afterward, he was very wary of stepping foot in the grass where the creatures might be. And it took him a while before he started going out with Beor and their atta into the fields to resume learning their farming trade. Their atta even considered changing his trade and for a time set Rangil up with learning basket-weaving, instead. His brother still did it, because he preferred the quiet work inside the house to working outside in the hot sun.
And... then there was that accident a month ago. Beor pushed the matter from his mind as bad memories stirred. He didn't want to think of such things on such a nice day.
Still, his eyes strayed to the creatures, who reappeared at the edge of the meadow and were hesitantly approaching Hero.
Hero ignored them. The toddler's entire attention was devoted to the cookies that Beor gave him. Beor couldn't stifle a smile. One thing that he learned about Grake's foundling was that he loved to eat. Giving him some sort of snack was a guaranteed way to keep him occupied for at least a few moments. Granted, his own children were the exact same way.
Beor humphed in amusement, unable to help himself. A very good mood irresistibly spread across his entire being. This was going to be a good day.
Shifting his eyes to the berry bushes, he pulled out a hat and plopped it atop his head. A basket appeared in his hands next. Frowning a little in diligent concentration, the young villager began to pick off the juicy, large berries that he carefully placed into his basket so as not to damage them.
A little later, the sleepy toddler joined him. White eyes looked at the berries and turned up to him with a question.
"Beh?" The child asked.
"Yes. Berries. Really good. You should try some, Hero." Beor nodded with encouragement, though he was not sure if Grake's foundling was trying to say a word or just making unintelligible noises.
He continued to work, occasionally glancing at the small being standing next to him, the harness still on his back. The rope lay slack, since the child wasn't trying to run off, his interest completely preoccupied. Another glance revealed the creepers, playing as they chased each other in the far corner of the meadow. They seemed to have lost interest in Hero since he didn't pay attention to them. Lost in his own world, the toddler was reaching for the delicious berries and hastily sticking them in his mouth. His fingers, face, and gown were already heavily smudged with juice. Beor smiled again.
"You know what else is good?" He asked the child quietly. White eyes turned and looked at him. "Mushrooms." Beor stated. The child turned away, while the villager dreamily continued. "You can fry them, put them in a stew. Mmmmh. We'll pick some on the way back." He turned back to the berry bush and resumed picking. To make things a little easier, he placed his basket down.
After a bit, reassured that the tasty food was not going to be taken away from him any time soon, the toddler turned and curiously watched the villager work. He watched Beor reach behind him and gently deposit berries into the basket.
Turning back to the bush, the child's white eyes held on several more berries, which he pulled off with his small, stained hands. Turning around, he stepped to the big basket. Several smooshed sweet berries dropped from small hand into Beor's carefully picked collection. The villager, glancing at the movement, blinked with surprise. Then, his brows crept up and a bright, pleased smile grew on his face.
"Good job, kari. Very good job!" He praised.
White eyes looked at him, then shifted back to the bush. The toddler continued to help, standing side by side with the villager. Beor's heart lit up with warmth. He returned to his own work, still smiling. This was a very, very good sign.
The two figures continued to pick berries, one big and tall and one tiny, both dressed in long-sleeved robes. Not too far away from them played the creepers, no longer paying any heed to either of them.