Autumn mists hung like cobwebs, or strands or raw silk--

[crimson_seeker]

Characters: Huo (getsome_sleep) and Hawk (crimson_seeker)
Date/Time: [BACKDATED] Sunday 9 October, early evening
Location: Ancient Chinese House, Melee Island
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: It starts with a discovery in the Scavengers' Yard and will probably again spin off into parts unknown. Likely destinations include the abduction plot, Orca, the Sphere's fate, and other such

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[crimson_seeker]

His things gathered, Hawk stood and went inside, leaning the spear in a corner next to his old-it it could be so called- one. The light was dim inside, and a draft circled the open space of the kitchen and sitting room. Had the fire gone out?

Dropping the bag carelessly by the door to his room, he headed to the hearth to find the coals still flickering, but only faintly. He knew he had stepped past Huo, perhaps callously. Neither of them had caused the other's anger or anxiety, yet it seemed they were pouring those sentiments into each other, snapping and wayward. The house seemed chilly for more than the lack of a fire in the hearth.

"He'll be back sooner or later," he said as he piled kindling onto the still gleaming coals. "Some things happen only when it's their time. You can't rush the sun to rise, if you'll forgive me the metaphor."

[getsome_sleep]

In silence, Huo followed behind Hawk into the house, himself falling into the automatic routine of fetching the tea set and leaves. In this, too, there was some comfort, and he clung to it, a shield of some quality against the buzzing tension in the air of their home. He could not and thus did not truly fault Hawk his short temper. In a sense it was a variation on a theme, a slow unraveling. Things grew short, tempers, days

[crimson_seeker]

"It's because it's apt that I don't like it." As soon as first little wisps of smoke, then licks of red flames flared along the kindling, Hawk laid a few curls of birch bark over them; they would burn for long enough to let the firewood itself ignite. Lighting the fire really didn't demand such attention as he was giving it, but the topic Huo raised sent a skitter of tension up his spine.

"You mean to finish the job Orca failed to carry out." He remained hunched by the fire, staring into the flames as they grew. "And you want my help." His voice grew hard. "Did you notice what happened to the men who took Fugue, Huo? How they died?"

[getsome_sleep]

As a way to defuse tension, Huo was forced to admit that broaching the subject was perhaps not a very good idea; but part of him thought it better, nonetheless, to at least have that tension on the surface, clear and present. There would be no dodging the issue, as surely as Fugue was bound to return to life. He did not move from where he stood.

"I have heard," he replied, his voice measured, with acknowledgment as well as perseverance. "Orca's plan was faulty in any number of ways; that is hardly the only thing that he had not accounted for. His errors are our lessons." His voice dropped slightly. "I am not the fool that Orca was."

He knew exactly how that must have rang, but it was true. It was one of the few truths that gave him hope.

[crimson_seeker]

Hawk tossed the piece of firewood in his hand down into the flames, sending up a cloud of shimmering sparks and bits of burning wood. With the same snapping force, he spun onto his feet and to face Huo.

Haven't we been down this path? Isn't it trod by now? Old habits and patterns of thought died hard. Hawk had to be the first to acknowledge that truth. That hardly forestalled the frustration and outright anger that rose in him at both Huo's tone and his words.

"No, you're only the fool that you are!" His voice cracked, but held. "They threatened Fugue and they died for it. You think you will somehow avoid their fate. My captain barely escaped the Tree, and you think you will stand a chance?"