Hal was wandering the beach. After that night, he had taken to walking them in the mornings. It reminded him of Old Rose, despite the lack of crashing waves. The waters were colder here, but he still liked to swim them.

He pulled off most of his clothes and waded into the water, shivering as his body adjusted to the cold. He ducked his head under the water and came up with a gasp. "CLOCK! It's cold!" he shouted. He didn't see the need to be quiet, as there was no one else around as far as he could tell. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea... he decided it was too cold this morning. He hopped out of the water and huddled on the shore, shivering. "I'll wait till later," he told the river.

He sat with his skinny arms wrapped around his gangly legs, watching birds swoop over the water. He ran his fingers absently over his burn scars.

Despite the comfortable embrace of a lovely witch, Tristaan found arriving on Surwood had brought a lot more to his mind than taken from it. There were perhaps a few more complicated issues to deal with than he had originally considered, which left him restless and in need of a walk. Slipping away with a quiet promise to return, the passive found himself distractedly wandering the beach, mulling the past handful of days' events, from Old Rose to the day before, over and over again in his mind.

Barefoot and unarmed, content to be able to swing both his arms freely in the breeze again, he was just beginning to see the some fog lift from his thoughts as the morning sun sparkled refreshingly off the waves when he noticed someone small and wet huddled on the shore ahead of him. The boy looked familiar.

"Oi. Is that you, Hal?"

Hal jumped, surprised to hear someone on the beach so early. He looked back to see Tristaanian, Calli's friend from her tribe. He hadn't really spoken with him, despite the fact that he was around when they were in Vienda. But of course, Hal had been in hiding during the journey there from Old Rose, so he missed out on a lot of potential talk time.

"Oh, hi," he responded, "Yeah, 's me. Tristaanian, right?"

He huddled in on himself. He was still dominantly unclothed, which felt free when he was alone, but awkward with someone he barely knew nearby.

"Um... what're you doin' out so early, eh?"

"Jus'Tristaan will do." The passive smiled, stopping a conversational distance from the boy and turning to face the water, enjoying the warming sand in his toes, though it was decidedly different than the ocean. The top half of his dark hair was pulled back, but with the breeze, some of it still found its way into his face. He didn't want to make Hal uncomfortable, though he noticed what appeared to be burn scars, so he kept his gray eyes toward the horizon.

"I needed a walk. I s'pose I've got a lot on my mind."

Tristaan glanced over briefly, arching a slim eyebrow, "It ent quite yet th'weather for swimmin', is it? Maybe a few more months yet 'fore even the river warms up. How's th'Festival for you?" He ventured, only slightly curious as it began to dawn on him that neither of them had a field, "Is this your first time here?"

Hal nodded. He wasn't sure he knew anyone who went by their full name, anymore.



"Yeah, me, too," he nodded, gazing out at the water. "It helps to go where there i'nt anybody else."



"Well, I've done it before," he said, slightly on the defensive. He smiled crookedly, "But that was in the afternoon, so I guess it'd had time to warm up..."



"It's good, I guess," he shrugged. The festival itself had been louder and more boisterous than he could have realized, and what with Calli, and all, he wouldn't have called it a "great experience."

"Ya, it's my first time with wicks in general. I mean, there was Calli an' you, but beyond that not so much. Before I met up with the circus it was only Old Rose an' Brunnhold, but I wasn't there too long, luckily." He barely remembered the man he had been sent to, but he hadn't liked him... well, at that time he hadn't really liked anyone, really. It was in his early, angriest days, after he had been found a passive and been turned out by his family. It didn't really matter anymore to him, but his face got unintentionally darker.

"Oes, sometimes that's for sure." Even if there's some people you happen to be thinking about, Tristaan mused.


The passive shrugged, perhaps chagrined, "I ent th'best at swimmin', so that shows what I know. I have a feelin' th'river's at least warmer than th'ocean most times."


The swordsman chuckled, listening carefully. His smile turned thin and wry at Hal's calling him a wick; he was used to the assumption by now and certainly didn't mind, though the truth of his heritage often weighed heavily on his heart. He shifted his gaze back to the boy as he mentioned Brunnhold, suddenly compelled to study his features and inadvertently lingered on Hal's exposed burn-scarred arms only to realize there was no familiar marking he could recognize.

Tristaan sighed, then went boldly out on a limb without a second thought, "Brunnhold, eh? I never made it there m'self. M'folks tested me early an' left me on th'streets instead. I wouldn'ta seen anythin' but th'insides of a textile mill in Vienda 'til I died if I hadn't run away. I wasn't much older'n'you must be when I first saw th'open road."

He might have been grinning, but inside, the passive was terrified he'd made the wrong assumption. He let his words hang in the air, on the breeze, and looked back across the shore.

"Ya, I got out two years ago," Hal said without a second thought, excepting how many passives are there in with the wicks? He looked Tristaan in the eye and held out his arm, "Burned m'place down in Ol' Rose. Scarred me up pretty bad, but it was a good thing. Most just assumed I was some human kid. There's a lot of'em in Ol' Rose. Ever been?"

He looked more closely at Tristaan, realizing he didn't have a field either. "I'd'a never pegged ya as a passive," he said, "You look so... wick... y. How'd you fall in with the wicks? Seems like a lot 'o us do it. I met another one the other day. Venadi. You know 'er?"

((Assuming a little here, since B14 is a pre-planned reunion with Wendy/Venadi.))

Tristaan laughed, "Oh, Alioe has a sense of humor, no denyin'."

With that, he sat down next to Hal, leaning back on his calloused palms with a shrug, "I get mistaken for wick often 'nough, an' I can't say I mind anymore. It's better'n'gettin' pegged a passive on th'street most of the time. I just don't wander 'round in short sleeves, ye chen?" The passive grinned, admitting he still had an unmarred tattoo, "It was th'Crows who found me quite lost an' embarrassingly helpless on th'road to Muffey. I was born there, an' after runnin' from Vienda, I thought I should go back an' find m'folks. It was a stupid idea, but I didn't know at th'time. So, in some ways, I didn't really grow up 'til I became a Crow." He smirked, thinking that over for a moment as if he hadn't before.

"I've spent my whole life afraid I'd go killing someone or worse on account of bein' a passive. Prolly only because that's all we've been told we're capable of with our diablerie an' no ear from th'mona. I drifted from th'Crow a few years ago out of that same fear an' ended up in Ol' Rose, actually, sellin' my skills with a sword t'make a livin'. I ran into Calli, an' she's family, so I hung around the Circus mostly for her." Tristaan's voice was full of humorous irony, and his gray eyes revealed he was obviously amused.

He sighed, "Oes, I know Venadi. As someone else I met payin' off childhood debts in Brunnhold before th'Circus. She ent been a wick long."

The passive was grinning again, "Small country, Anaxas."

Hal nodded, smiling crookedly again, "Innit, though? Yeah, after I ran off I fell in with the Brothers. Was my biggest dream, that. I was just a messenger 'n'whatnot. Kinda seems stupid now, but I wanted to be the next Hawke," he laughed, "Now I'm not sure what I wanna do."

He traced his fingers absently through the sand, watching the tiny grains shift about. He had wanted to be with Calli, but she had chosen someone else. When he was solely devoted to her, it was all his focus, all his desire. But now that it was gone, he did feel a little lost. Curious, he looked up.

"What do you do, anyway? What do you mean, selling your skills?" He secretly wondered if Tristaan was some kind of hitman.

Tristaan was quiet, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek at the mention of the Bad Brothers. He wasn't sure he had room to comment about such things, considering current circumstances, so he didn't offer anything directly, "I would have t'say it ent th'best of goals t'be another Hawke. He's got plenty of problems that ent worth havin'."

"Then again," The passive smirked, "Everyone needs t'make a livin', I guess."


He sighed, looking over at Hal with a bit of nostalgia in his voice, "Th'Crow who took me in, more my da than my golly folks, taught me t'put a lot of my pent-up frustration t'work for me (instead of against me) with a sword. So, I s'pose I ent always made th'best choices with what I know, but I've hunted a few bounties, served on a few ships, an' escorted a few folks who worried for their safety. Most times I get in more trouble tryin' t'help people when I ent workin', but oh well."

It was hard to summarize what, exactly, the passive did with his talents since his work was far from consistent, but he knew there were things he wished he could be doing instead, "Trust me when I say I'd rather settle down an' do somethin' resemblin' steady work. Whatever that is ... as long as it doesn't look anything like a factory. I'm pretty sure I'll end up back in th'Harbor, though. Vienda ent my kinda town."

"You seem t'have taken well t'Circus life. But now y'ent sure?" He wasn't about to say the boy had taken well to Calli, for though he had no real idea about the entirety of what was going on between the three youths, he knew enough.

"Well, I don't mind workin' there," he said, "but... Well I got into it 'cause of... 'cause of Calli. I really liked... like her," he quieted a bit. He was finally admitting aloud how he felt. He felt comfortable around Tristaan-- probably because he wasn't treating him like a little boy like a lot of other adults seemed to treat fourteen-year-old passives. "But now I don't see 'angin around because... because of a girl. 'Cause she's... courtin' someone else."

He sighed and stood up, reaching for his clothes now that he'd had time to dry a bit. "I don't wanna go lookin' fer another place to be an' work an' stuff, 'cause I feel like I've been... accepted, pretty well, at the circus. But I don't know if I wanna stick around if I feel the way I do an' she doesn't... It'd probably get awkward. Even if it ent now," he finished, "it could be later, you know?"

Tristaan sighed, realizing he certainly hadn't noticed. He reflected a moment on Hal's shy admission and his friendship with Calli, letting his thoughts trail onto Dorian and Taegan briefly.

"Oes. I see where you're headin' there. I'm gonna guess you never told Calli how you felt, an' she prolly took you right in as a brunno an' thought nothin' of it. She's family that way." The swordsman smiled gently, speaking from experience, "Nothin' has t'be awkward. It just depends on what you let define your feelin's."

If he had been interested in girls at Hal's age ... what in the world would he have needed to hear? Tristaan had been too distracted trying to get by back then, and it was really only recently that he'd ever considered—

He looked over at the boy and tried his best not to sound condescending or 'old,' but he felt hard-pressed when the words came out, "You've got plenty of time t'chase th'roshes - th'girls - an' Calli's jus'one of 'em. She's a good chip, but if you think th'Circus is somewhere you need t'be, don't let 'er get in th'way of you growin' in th'right direction, ye chen?"

Hal had started pulling his shirt on when Tristaan spoke, and he was halfway through when he started talking about other "roshes." He peered at Tristaan, shirt halfway down his nose, as he finished. His brows quickly knit together and he jerked his shirt down the rest of the way, making his hair stick out awkwardly as he exclaimed, "Yeah, but them other girls ent Calli, are they? She's diff'r'nt an'-- an' special, and you know it."

He folded his arms, every inch his defensive old self,"I've 'alf a mind ta knock you one fer implyin' 'at Calli's jus' some over girl, an' I c'n git ov'r 'er jus' like 'at. It's hard. An' I been tryin', but she's'a nicest one I ev'r met an' she's fun, an' she trusts me an' likes me an' treats me like... like..."

He sighed, looking away and refusing to meet Tristaan's eyes as the realization dawned on him. He sat back down in the same position Tristaan had found him in as he admitted, "Jus' like she treats everybody else..."

((Haha-- Hal goes bad grammar and cockney as he gets angry. I had never realized...))

((Someone spelled my name wrong, but I fixed it. ))


Different an' special. Oes. I know. Those things no one else knows but they should. Oes, kid, I gotcha there more than you know.

Tristaan might have blushed a little, even though it was obviously not about Calli. He grinned crookedly, finding Hal cute in a strangely nostalgic sort of way. The passive struggled to hold back a sudden urge to ruffle the kid's hair, but seeing the anger in his face caused him to refrain.


"Ne, Hal." Shaking his head, he spoke quietly, "Even I don't think she treats you like everyone else. Calli's obviously decided you're family, whether you like it or not." Tristaan grinned and gave in, congenially fluffing Hal's messed head in a way that was not meant to be humiliating or juvenile so much as friendly and open, "Y'know, it ent so bad t'have family, though it does mean some feelin's are different."

((Did I spell it "Triston"? Sorry if I did... I was just modding her ))

Hal nodded internally. The last family he'd had had kicked him out when they found out he wasn't like them. He knew Tristaan knew all about that, so he didn't have to voice his concern. And he knew that Calli probably wouldn't have the heart to do something like that to anyone, though... still, it was small consolation.

He sighed again, feeling rather exposed for his outburst. "What about you?" he asked, diverting attention away from himself and his feelings, "Who's yer family?"

((Yup. It's okay ... ))

"Dze. I ent good at lettin' anyone be my family."

Tristaan smirked, almost wincing at the realization of his own honesty, "I s'pose there's th'Crows who took me in after I ran away from Vienda 'round sixteen, 'specially th'one who raised me, Guaril. I call him da, since it ent like I remember my real folks much."

A little smile played at the edges of his fading scowl, "An' now I'll admit there's Sarinah, but it still feels like fightin' everythin' I've been told or told m'self t'be okay with havin' feelin's."

Tristaan felt strange for voicing his adult struggles out loud in front of the boy, mostly because he realized Hal had plenty on his own plate for his age, "I ent always comfortable lettin' people close, but I s'pose I'm better at it than I was."

"Hm, yeah," Hal said, nodding slightly, relaxing a little. "I know that feelin'."

His stomach rumbled loudly, and he looked down at it. He was hungry. He hadn't eaten yet that morning, and being the growing boy he was... "Speakin'a feelin's," he said offhandedly, but not dismissive of what Tristaan had shared with him,"You wanna grab summat te eat? I'll buy."

He had been given wages for working the circus, which was something a bit new to him-- it was completely different from the whatever-I-can-get of working in Old Rose. While he wasn't spending like gangbusters (he was, in fact, saving quite conscientiously), he was excited to have a more constant income-- another reason to stay with the circus, he told himself.

Tristaan laughed, stretching, "Oes, I ent one t'turn down free food, but I do have someone else I should bring breakfast t'fore too long ..." He grinned, standing and dusting sand from himself, knowing eventually Sarinah would be wondering where he wandered off to so early, "You've prolly been here long 'nough t'know what's good, too, eh? What'cha thinkin' for breakfast?"

"Yeah, there's this place down near th'Laughin' Skies, an' they got this funky prickled fruit from traders in Mugroba. It's yellow inside, an' sweet, an' they chunk it up with a bunch of other fruit and give it to ya in half the prickly skin part. It's really good for breakfast an' if you get there early 'nuff they'll give ya an Onna Stick, too."

His stomach rumbled again. "Sound good?"

((Haha-- sharing feelings and fruit salad. What next shall challenge their masculinity?!))

((Oh har! As long as we don't end up going clothes shopping or talking about crochet patterns, we're probably all good. But still, go manly men ... go ...?))

Tristaan grinned. When it came to eating, the passive had long since learned to no longer be picky, especially after living with wicks. Anything was better than whatever the clock it was he was forced to get used to in a factory. Anything.

"Oes, sounds better'n'good. Laughin' Sky folk know their onnastick, too." He laughed, gesturing with his arm in the general direction of where he figured they were headed, though he only had a foggy idea since he'd not necessarily been exploring much since his arrival, "After you, Hal. I gotta say I ent been 'round long enough t'know where we're headed other'n that way."

The swordsman might have blushed a little in his honesty, and his grin was a little sheepish, "Other'n Calli, how's th'rest of th'Circus folk? Have y'all been performin' any here at th'Festival?"

"Yeah, well, the month's half over an' I'm only gettin' the hang of it. Spent most'a the first week totally lost an' tryin'a get out 'o all the racket," they were walking through the Deep Water camp, as he'd come to learn it, and weren't far off from Laughing Sky-- when lead by hungry bellies, the menfolk were quick on their feet.



He thought for a moment. In all honesty, he hadn't paid a whole lot of attention to the others until after the event. He knew that Kynth was off elsewhere, and that Jaq was about, "Jaq seems to be doin' pretty well. Kynth isn't here jus' now, s'far as I know. Taegan and Dorian... I don't think they're talkin' to each other," he scratched the back of his head. He knew exactly why they weren't: for the same reason he wasn't. Honestly, he could relate to Taegan at this point, but that didn't mean he liked the guy any better than he did the first time he met him.

"There haven't been any official shows, but I know there's been a lot'a showin' off, like the wicks seem to do a lot 'ere."

Tristaan laughed at Hal's observation, understanding that wick culture was perhaps a bit more flamboyant than most non-native passives would normally be comfortable with. He could still remember when he'd found it both quite disturbing and terribly exciting once, years ago.

"I don't think Taegan an' Dorian'll stay cross at each other for too long, but I might be givin'em both too much credit." He shrugged, offering with a bit of wistfulness to his words, "It'll work out in time, of course. A bit o'forgiveness goes a long way when you're all s'posed t'be family, Circus or ne."

The smells of breakfast drifted on the morning breeze, and the swordsman was content to admit that after catching up on his sleep, he'd also discovered a return of his appetite.

"Wicks're just a bit different. Most of 'em know they're free'nough, or at least they've mostly figured out how t'enjoy what freedom they've got. Moreso than I s'pose some folks're used t'seein'." He chuckled, adding distantly, "It ent so bad, really, once you let it get t'you."

"Hmm, maybe," Hal mused, "they're jus' so..." he indicatively eyed a passing wick, beard done up in pink and green, with feathers slipped into his cornrows, who seemed to be practicing fiddling while skipping and tumbling. "That."

"I mean, I know Calli. An' she's kinda out there, but I didn't expect a whole culture based around bouncin' offa walls."

He sighed, "It's just a little much."

The swordsman followed Hal's gaze, grinning a little, "Well, th'whole culture isn't like that ... not really. I mean, well ... we've just been told completely diff'rent things from wicks. We've been told we're broken, or cursed, or dangerous. Bein' free, so t'speak, you'n'I have also learned it ent safe t'be so obvious. That doesn't make it bad. In fact," Tristaan smirked a little, "Sometimes bein' obvious throws everyone off."

He chuckled quietly, almost in self-amusement, as if he was putting something difficult together in his own mind. Whatever it was, he fell silent for a moment or two, thoughtfully.

"I don't think anyone here's gonna tell you t'dye your hair blue an' wear bright colors, however. You ent gotta be a wick t'enjoy a bit of their freedom, if that's what you're implyin'."

"I ent sayin' nothing about freedom, I'm jus' sayin' they're weird..." he thought a moment, "Well, most of 'em. Most of the time."

They had reached the stall. It seemed they had gotten there early enoug-- he could see steaming sticks of hingle, garmon, and other assorted onna's at the back of the stand. He glanced up at the menu with a smile. He pointed Tristaan's attention to it as he ordered. Underneath the stand's name (Windad Fami Yats), it read simply "Breakfast -or- Lunch -or- Dinner -2T 1H; Snack, 1H 1F."

As he was sliding the coinage across to the witch (presumably the Mrs. Windad), a brief look of confusion passed over his face,"So how exactly did you get wrapped up with 'em anyway? You ran away from some factory... Then what?"