Trust Is Hard to Come By

Finnian has wandered a bit away from the camp, not far enough to be far from sight, but enough for some privacy. He\'s sitting on a fallen log, unlacing one of his boots and carefully working it off of his foot. Next he peels off his stocking and lays it on the log next to the boot. He draws his knife from his sheath, and studiously begins toenail maintenance. It\'s a manly thing.. truly.

[Brev(#30997)] Finnian is not the only one to have wandered away from the tensions within the camp. As dusk falls, Brev moves among the pools, prodding the ground with a stick held in his good hand. His features still show some pallor, but aside from an uncommon surliness and the rag-wrapped arm limp by his side, he seems to be on the mend. At the sight of Finnian he halts, frowns, and grunts a sullen, \"All right?\" by way of greeting.

Finnian looks up, his dark eyes settling on Brev with a quiet wariness to them. After a moment he nods and looks back down to what he\'s doing before he severs a toe off by accident. \"Fine. How you be? Carac be back yet?\"

[Brev(#30997)] Brev shakes his head. \"Not seen him,\" he answers curtly, with more heed for the ground beneath his feet than the man before him, knife or now. He parts another clump of reeds, then nods and begins to loosen the roots at their base with his makeshift hoe.

\"Carac.. he be a friend of yours for a long time, he told me. You be Hawk as well?\" Finnian glances up, some curiosity on his face. His gaze doesn\'t linger for long. He\'s more concerned with what he\'s doing as well.

[Brev(#30997)] Brev snorts and shakes his head. \"I was born a Bear. Never had much use for clan, though. Why?\" He crouches down to gain better leverage, then curses as the stick slips from his hand. Picking it up, he tries prying the vegetation loose again, actually managing to curl the fingers of his left hand round the top of the stick for support. A second curse follows as he breaks off, face blanching.

Finnian tilts his head to his side, finishing his task and lowering his bare foot back to the ground. \"Do you think you be wanting to do that?\" He asks, frowning. The knife is stabbed down into the log next to him and Tavish rises, moving over to offer Brev some assistance. \"I just be wondering. He said you be knowing each other since kids.\"

The sun rises brightly off the snow covered tops of the Misty Mountains and Dunland Highlands.

[Brev(#30997)] \"Yes.\" The single word is curt, bitten off and accompanied by a scowl as Brev looks up. He abandons the stick and starts to tug at a clump of flat, sword-shaped leaves with his good hand.

The question gives him pause, and for a moment the scowl disappears, to be replaced by a distant smile. \"Aye. I was all of five years old, and trying to steal pastries.\" His mouth quirks. \"Helped me through a rough patch ..\" The words break off and the old scowl returns. \"Anything else you care to know about my family history? Or was it Carac\'s you\'re interested in? Perhaps you should ask him in person.\" His tone is acid.

Finnian smirks, sitting down again when Brev seems uninclined towards aid. He moves on to his other boot, tugging it off with the same gentle care and setting it next to it\'s mate. \"You all be angry with me when I ask questions.. but nobody be interested in how things look in my eyes. I be with a new group of people, trying to help, and I see lines being drawn all over. How do a man be knowing who to trust if he don\'t be asking questions?\"

Tavish peels off the sock, laying it on the log, then tugs the knife from the wood and begins cutting away long, overgrown toenails again. \"I be thinking you were sneaking around a lot, working against Carac, but if he be claiming that you be old friends.. Well, a man that be keeping friends that long be someone to trust, I guess.\"

[Brev(#30997)] Brev resumes his tugging, interspersed by grunts and muttering. Eventually a few plants come free he narrowly escapes overbalancing, and as it is, one knee slips in the mud. He mutters something unpleasant-sounding under his breath, then looks up.

\"I trust nobody completely - but I trust Carac more than most. Don\'t trust the rest .. half the time I don\'t even trust myself.\" His lips twist. \"And as for you ... In you wander from Creatrach, just like that, with nary a word about who you really are ... the timing is unfortunate, to say the least. Are you Brodie\'s man?\" The words and tone change abruptly, and suddenly the plants are no longer in Brev\'s hand. His knife is.

\"Nary a word? I be telling openly of who I am.\" Finnian counters, his brows drawing together in anger.. that is until the knife is brandished. He draws back, nervousness on his face now. \"Brev. People here be jumpier than a frog running from a hungry snake. Brodie be having his men beat me for asking for food. Who be wanting to work for a man as that?\"

[Brev(#30997)] Brev glares at Finnian, noting the nervousness. The knife remains in his hand, but he makes no move toward the other. \"You tell me. Plenty of folk, by the look of things.\" He snorts. \"Didn\'t lack for support when I-\" he halts, then goes on, \"when I last saw him.\" He scowls. \"Fine. Tell me then. Tell me openly - where you\'ve been, what you did, who you served. You look to have at least another decade on me, must have been doing /something/.\" He pauses, then warns, \"I was born and brought up in Caerdh, I know the names.\"

The knife descends - to hack away the green leaves from the knobbled rhizomes.

\"When you what, Brev?\" Finn asks, watching him carefully. \"Brodie be a rotten, cruel, uncaring bastard from what I be seeing of him.. which isn\'t much. I was in Kierkgard a few months before it burned. I be working odd jobs for a baker.. deliveries, supply pick-up.. things as that. Before Kierkgard I worked for a Fian, Argan. He be off in the east, near the mountains. Then he died and I lost what I earned when the new Fianni came in and siezed all me land and of those around me for his friends.\"

[Brev(#30997)] \"Aye,\" Brev responds to those first words, as the knife does its work. \"Wasn\'t around him for long, but what I saw wasn\'t pleasant. Not at all.\" His features twist, and he spits before sitting back on his heels to listen to the rest.

\"Argan?\" he repeats, his expression vague, then gives a sudden nod. \"Fair enough. Think I\'ve heard the name. That\'s where you were born, then?\" His tone is amazingly mild given its earlier venom. \"Me, I was born in the Telartair lands, spent a couple years Kierkgard after my mother died and then up to northern Caerdh ... past few years I\'ve been between Creatrach and Kierkgard, wherever the work was really.\"

He gives a one-shouldered shrug, then lifts a handful of rhizomes up to inspect them. \"Da used to swear by this stuff, claimed it drew out poisons and stopped the rot. Lets hope the old man was right, eh?\"

Finnian watches Brev a moment longer when the younger man grows calm so abruptly, then drops his gaze to his task of self-maintanance again. \"No, not born there, but that not be something I be willing to talk about. Ask Carac if you be wanting to know.\" He answers in a cool tone, a trace of irritation in his voice. He says nothing further, a scowl on his face now as he works in silence.

\"Damnit!\" Tavish suddenly swears, reaching for one of the stockings to press against his toe where blood is welling up from a cut.

[Brev(#30997)] \"Fine, I will.\" Brev doesn\'t press the matter, but neither does he volunteer any further information about his own background. He sets his bounty down to tug irritably at the strings of the pouch at his waist, and has not yet managed to loosen it when the other\'s sudden curse comes. \"Kiern! And you said /I/ was jumpy? Just what do you have to hide, Finnian?\" His brows lift, but he does not press the query, instead reaching down to the ground and lifting a single rhizome, which he tosses in the other\'s direction. \"Want to try one of these things? Da used to crush them, maybe it stops bleeding or something. Don\'t ask me,\" he shrugs with his good shoulder.

Finnian doesn\'t answer at first and simply takes the leave from him on good faith, crushing it and pressing it against the small, bleeding cut. Finally, he looks up at Brev, anger on his face. \"In the last couple of weeks I be put to the question on a basis that would be making any man nervous, even if he be a saint sent by Kiern herself.\"

He swallows, eying Brev closely, \"You be asking if I\'m working for a dead man? This camp don\'t be needing anyone to meddle with it. It be tearing itself apart from inside just fine. I feel I be walking on broken glass if I say anything, anymore. That Halen be threatening to slit my throat in my sleep, Carac be asking questions, and now you.. the one person I be thinking okay to talk to. I\'d be too afraid to leave if I wanted to.. there\'d be an arrow in my back, of that I be sure. So, aye, I be jumpy.\"

[Brev(#30997)] Brev\'s features crease in one of those all-too-common scowls. \"Aye, we\'re mistrustful,\" he responds at last, keeping his tone even. \"Probably because we\'ve all got something to hide. I know what I\'ve got to hide - Carac does, too,\" he adds hastily, \"Carac I trust without the knowing, but as for others ... No, I don\'t trust without answers. And the fact you dodge them every single time is an answer in itself. There\'s something you\'re concealing. Murder, adultery, theft ... how should I know?\" He finally manages to open his belt pouch and stuffs the rhizomes into it before standing. \"Ach, why should I care? We\'ve been set up, used and are like to be used again till whoever\'s pulling the strings achieves their goal. What difference does one more secret make?\"

\"Carac be knowing my secret too. He be the one I think I can trust, Brev.. of all these that we follow. And you be trusting him, and he trusts you.. Which is what I be trying to say earlier.\" Finnian says in a quiet tone. \"It be a personal matter that can be dangerous to me. Ask Carac if you be wishing to know.\" Tavish pulls the leaf away and seems to be satisfied with the work it\'s done on the cut. He discards the soiled foliage to the ground, then pulls the stockings back onto his feet, followed by his boots.

[Brev(#30997)] \"Carac has enough on his mind without me troubling him more,\" Brev says abruptly, then scowls. \"I trust him ...\" he turns away. \"Not sure he should trust me. I\'ve failed before. Maybe once this damn arm\'s healed I\'ll head south and put things to rest. I\'m sick of seeing foes behind every tree and ghosts in every face.\"

And away he moves, heading back to the camp by a circuitous route.