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[G] [P] 743.06.16 | They Never Listen to a Word We Say - Printable Version

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743.06.16 | They Never Listen to a Word We Say - Ch'es - 16.Jun.22

Larrikith had warned him, hadn't she? And so had Mylorah. 'Some people are complete jerks,' she had said. After so many had welcomed him to the Weyr, Chir had started to get comfortable. Started to forget what it was to be an outcast.

He remembered now.

The freckled mute bucked against the pair of older boys who held him down and shoved his face into a pile of manure. But with his arms pinned behind his back, he had no means to fight back other than to try to kick their legs out from under them. Though Chir sported a bloody, split lip and a gash along his left eyebrow, he had some satisfaction in knowing the pair of rejected candidates carried battle scars of their own, courtesy of his fists.

It had started off relatively harmless, even if immediately hurtful. "Hey, stable rat!"

"I don't think he heard you," the other commented with a snicker.

"He's dumb, not deaf, idiot."

"Bet he's still dumb."

"Heh! Good point. Stable rat! I hear you fuck the horses in your spare time."

It was a baseless, cruel accusation, but so nonsensical that Chironhes didn't even rise to the bait. Instead, he merely lifted an eyebrow at the pair before returning to his work. True to form, bullies still didn't like being ignored. He'd been ready for the first swing and blocked the first strike before delivering one of his own. Violence wasn't typically the hunter's first choice, but he remembered a childhood lesson from his father well. Pick the largest of the bunch and don't hold back. But the second blow from his other opponent had landed along his still-healing left side and bent Chir double. A third caused the gash along his eyebrow, but a fourth went wide when he hooked his foot behind the second candidate and tugged him off his feet. Chir had only just regained his feet when the first tackled him back to the ground. For one inexperienced in brawling, the freckled teen thought he'd managed pretty well against two opponents larger than him.

Chirp, enraged by the attack, landed a few bloody bites of her own on both boys' faces, but ultimately scampered under a stall door to safety when Chir's panic for her rose as one of the boys chased after her. With her out of reach, the second candidate returned to help his partner with the mute boy.

It was only the sound of approaching footsteps that sent the pair of boys racing off with mad cackling while Chir shoved himself up and wiped shit off his face. He didn't hang around to see who was coming, not wanting an audience to his humiliation. Quickly, he opened the stall door and retrieved Chirp before quickly vacating the barn.

He'd go back to his room, he decided. Sironar hadn't yet returned from the other Weyr, so he could tend to himself without any eyes on him. He kept his eyes fiercely downcast and sucked on his throbbing lip while willing everyone to not look at him as he made his way to the solitude of his room. Chir had been too focused on making sure those around him weren't paying him any mind to stop from running straight into another as he rounded the corner towards the barracks. He grunted, his hand flying to his flaring left side. Ah. So much for that area nearly being healed.

Not wanting to lift his face and risk the other demanding what happened, he kept his head bowed and lifted a fist to his heart in a silent apology for the mishap before trying to ease around and escape to solitude.