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34th Ymiden, 711
Felix did not have many friends.It wasn’t that he was a particularly awkward child, even when compared to other children. He did not torture puppies or had a cursed presence that made people fall mysteriously ill around him. Truth be told, through shyness and that peculiar awkwardness proper of most children bordering puberty, Felix was on friendly terms with most children his age. He greeted his neighbours, had a promising future carreer as a laborer, and always lended a hand should someone to exchange a slice of cheese, a cabbage, or a handful of potatoes for some menial task he could accomplish. Even so, he rarely mingled with the other kids. He did, however, have the benefit of a best friend. This friend was called Thomo. Thomo himself was the complete opposite of Felix in every way. Physically, he was thinner, but his musculature was more visible. His hair was short, very much so, revealing his square face. Their attitudes were also inverted; whilst Felix brooded underneath his messy dark hairs, Thomo walked with an exaggerated swagger and his chin way up. Even if the same age, Thomo spoke with a tone of confidence, and rarely relished in silence. There was always soemthing to be told, something to be commented on, or some opinion to be pushed. Felix was quiet. He often nodded, and prefered to listen rather than actively partake in the one-sided conversation between the two. One could think Felix was just someone Thomo had taken for a follower, some poor soul to brag to, to compare himself to and to stand above of.
“So he’s going to follow us around, then?” Asked Thomo, one of his fingers still cleansing his teeth from remains of cheese.
“My mom wants me to be friends with him,” replied his friend.
They both stared towards the third child, the intruder in the friendship. They were unsure what to make of him, of that cold and unexpressive gaze more proper of a blue eyed cow than a child.
“Does he speak?”
“Not really, no. He’s like a baby,” Felix pointed at his head, “up there. He repeats a word or a phrase, but that’s about it.”
“Is he dumb?”
Felix shrugged.
“Oi, you. Are you dumb?”
No response.
“His parents must’ve thrown him out once they found out he was stupid,” Thomo commented, having finally scooped the cheese trapped at the end of his mouth, now smeared on his index finger, and shortly after suckled upon.
“Maybe.”
“Let’s go do something before they find us slacking, come on.””
Life in Mourner’s Rest was as simple as it got. Made up of approximately fifty families, the settlement’s most colorful feature was, by far, its peculiar name. It had a bit of everything; a small finishing port from where four rowboats were tied through the night, a smalll walnut orchard that was yielding fewer and fewer walnuts in autumn, crop fields ranging from corn to squash, and, a some herds of sheep, cattle, and plenty of chickens. In summer, everything took a lighthearted tone, at least for the boys. They’d work hard, or pretend to, and then sneak off, steal some lemons from old Maggie’s tree, squeeze a few of them in water, and find some shade to gossip or play cards. Thomo was the town’s champion.
The trio found themselves at the small cliff overlooking the pointy rocks below. They sat in the shade provided by an old willow tree, tossing rocks towards the seagulls that landed below. Thomo was adamant on making target, focusing on the task. Felix, on the other hand, let his thoughts drift away with the light clash of the waves below. The blond boy sat behind them, imitating their posture, silent and unmoving.
“I hate this town. I can’t wait until I’m old enough to leave,” Thomo said, frustrated at his lack of accuracy.
“And do what?”
“I don’t know. Go explore, travel. Meet some ladies.”
“Mhm.”
“What? I mean it. I’m a ladies man.”
“The only ladies that like you are goats.”
“I touched Sylvia’s boob, remember?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because she looks like a blond goat. Her boobs are like udders.”
They laughed.
“Let’s go to the old forester’s place tonight.” Thomo suggested.
“What, old Tom’s place?”
“Yes. They say it’s haunted.”
“What, by his beard?”
“No, no. I’m serious. My pa says its why they’re building the new place down by the hills. Says strange things happen at night, voices speaking, doors opening. Says they’re not even gonna tear the place down for the wood and all. It'll be fun, and I bet we can lift an axe or two.”
Felix considered this in silence. He glanced towards the blond boy, quiet as he was, who stared back. He had many things to worry; being ratted on was not one of them.
Thanks to Sabine for this amazing template!