RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Garaf · **08-09-2010, 03:18 AM**

Chapter 3

"Sit still, please." Garaf made a face at the wall but complied while the Lalafell pushed his hair aside to inspect the nasty scar on the side of his temple. "Do you feel any discomfort?" The bespectacled scholar probed the tissue with a finger, checking its integrity.

"Only when strange people start pokin' at my head."

"Erm, yes..." Esslar released his head and turned to make some notes in one of the canvas-bound volumes he always seemed to be carrying about. Garaf snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye but all he could recognize was that he didn't recognize the lettering. His mind leapt to notions of goblins and trickster spirits but he also recalled that Crawa had told him the Lalafell had been some sort of big smarty pants at something called a 'mooss-em.' He wondered if everyone at a 'mooss-em' would write things differently. All the same, Esslar began speaking again after several moments had already passed in silence. "Still, an outside observer might conclude that it is your scenario which is the least orthodox of all. Your arrival was most... peculiar, for a variety of factors, and you still have not explained your own origins."

"S'not like I'm keepin' secrets or nothin'. I just don't 'member. I can 'member some Caves with all their comfy shadows 'n all, but don't 'member actually bein' nowhere till I showed up here. What? Ya think I'm lyin'?" The boy squinted at the full-grown Lalafell in an attempt to be menacing. Even given their comparative ages, they were both about the same height.

"Not at all. I believe you are quite sincere in the absence of your knowledge concerning your own origins. Severe impacts to the cranium, such as the one which seems to have caused your wound, are known for inducing loss of memory. It is possible that your memories may return in time, though I could not postulate as to the probability of such an occurrence. I am curious however - are you not concerned with the possibility that there may be some persons, outside the Randirim Temple, who may have a vested interest in your well-being and whereabouts?"

"...Huh?"

"Wouldn't your parents be worried about you?"

Garaf shrugged, genuinely not concerned. "I figure, iffin' they was important, I'd 'member 'em either way."

Esslar's expression indicated quite clearly that he didn't agree, but he gathered up his items without any further comment and turned towards the door. "You are in good health, I'm pleased to say. I would appreciate your assistance on the morrow with some repairs which must be made about the grounds."

"...Ya mean work?"

Esslar didn't pause for further comment, as he really was quite busy, but answered "Indeed." and exited the room. Garaf was left to half-heartedly grumble about his free ride finally being over.

When he got bored doing that, he opened his window and leaned out to grab the ledge of the roof and, with some amount of effort, drag himself onto the roof. He laid down against the sun-warmed tiles, tucked his hands behind his head and began to hum aloud. He was terribly off-key and exhibited no discernible tune, but he boldly continued onward with full childish bravado.

He stopped when he heard a window open below him. A familiar head poked through, squinting up at him. "Hey!" Crawa waved up at him. "What are you doing up there? I could hear you from the other room!"

Garaf just shrugged. "Why don'tcha come up 'n see?"

"I'm not allowed on the roof!"

"Then I'll just be enjoyin' this view all by myself."

A few minutes later, a small hand appeared over the edge of the roof. Garaf scooted over to the edge and did his best to assist Crawa as she too shambled onto the tiles. After a few minutes of huffing, grunting, and complete disregard for the lack of safety inherent to dangling from a ledge several yalms above the ground, the two lay side by side on their backs and watched the clouds float by. "So, do you know any other songs?"

"Dunno that one. I made it up good 'n proper. You?"

"Yep! Mama sings all the time. Wanna hear one of her songs?"

"Shar." In truth, Crawa's reproduction of her mother's melody was less accurate than she may have believed, but she faithfully recited the song for the better part of an hour.

"Mama's out there right now, doing really important things," she said as she finished, pointing at the horizon. "What do your parents do?"

"Dunno. I don't 'member any."

"Really? No wonder you're so bad! But," Crawa dropped her voice to a confidential whisper, "you can share my parents. Okay?"

Garaf paused for a few moments as if mulling the notion over in his head before casually replying "'k."

"I think they'd like you," she said, assertively. "'N when they come back for my birthday next year you can meet them properly. Maybe Mama will teach us another song! That would be nice."

"Mm... heh," Garaf elbowed her. "That cloud looks like 'n aldgoat."

"Which...? I don't see it."

"That one, right there."

"Stupid, that doesn't look anything like an aldgoat."

"Iffin' s'not 'n aldgoat then what s'it, Smarty-Stockin's?"

"Hmm... like a bush, or a big flower."

"Huh. I like tha aldgoat better."

"Flower."

"... I'm hungry."

The Grand Adventures of Little Garaf and Crawa [Closed]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes