Rubbing his chin lightly, Azurul stepped around the kit with ease. Perhaps he should just wake it with a smelling salt from his bag? Nay, they were too close, and it was unnecessary for this part. Looking from the tree base to the wheels in his brain, they turned heavily. Could he move the kit in this condition? Judging by the fact they weren't being shocked, he gauged it'd be okay.

"No fair, Bartels. One such as I would be foolish to consider myself able to replace its mother. I mean to move it further under the tree. Then we must depart. We cannot overstay our welcome." Azurul nodded kindly to Bartels as he grabbed the Crackles' paws and pulled. His muscles bunched as he moved with steady steps. Pulling the cub into some vines, he backed up slowly. Looking at Bartels, the Rabbit nodded firmly as he gestured for them to leave.

"May those ripples deliver it to kindness. I must wake this kitten so it can find a safe place to shelter. Staying close by too long will be bad news for both of us." Azurul bowed his head at the slumbering Crackle Kitten. He sincerely wished this were fortune for the future. Azurul could do nothing with the situation at hand, reaching into his robes, he withdrew the capped salts. With a thumbs up, the rabbit chuckled softly in the rain.

"I will catch up with you." Azurul nodded to Bartels as he slipped his ears back and placed a bit of the substance just a bit past the nose of the creature. Shifting swiftly from the base of the tree, Azurul followed Bartels towards the exit. The sound of sniffing and sneezing was barely heard beneath the patter of raindrops. Its life was its own, and the rabbit could only pray that better fortune found it.

@Bartels
 
Bartels gave no sign of faith that the final words spoken by Azurul were true. No query. No tremor of concern, no half step of sympathy or half committed catering to manners. All was in alignment with how Bartels wished Azurul to make peace at his future gaze that would look upon the memory of now. On his own terms. With his own wits to unwind the woods and endure the sound of rain and spates of sparks. Bartels knew that Azurul would one day be left alone with these woods. These woods that would aim to reclaim their echoes in those that had passed within them. To guide him now would rob the agency required to heal. To harvest the stark truths that wisdom required to feed, one must have the freedom to grow without entourage. This Bartels believed and relied. And so did Bartels did simply turn and walk steady and slow into the forest, his faith performed by his leaving.

He looked dead ahead, as if he were a slow march of hundreds who had done so before. Armoured to the eye, deft in defence of the mind, others and his own. He walked, letting stillness replace itself within him. A single word, taught by his Order, practiced by his attendance to his comrade by his leaving.

Fallows.

Bartel knew he would be committing a disserve to a new found comrade should he rob him of being a solitary witness to his own self. Because in memory, Bartels knew that Azurul would be alone with his own shadows. His own reflections in the aloneness Bartels left him in would be his use in the depths and height of time. Yet, unlike the wizened toads who seemed to make such actions of distance seem graceful, Bartels still felt that tug of conscience like an infant against a trouser leg tugging for attention of a parent. Those wizened toads who had taught him, gleaming in their greys and platinum accolades, had told him thusly.

It gets easier.

Bartels still did not know if he wished for this. But accept it he did. Only in his own quiet moments before sleep would he ponder for a moment, if they did lie to him to help them make it easier to endure than they had.

He rested against a tree, stood guard against himself. Those slumbers where half flickers of doubt were to emerge were many turns of shadow away. For now, he did as he was expected to the ways that had won Bartels himself.

The mantra did revolve within his mind as he weathered what climate was changing. Oft repeated, oft reminded for such moments.

Like a pearl, swift turned, free from the oyster that did form it from grit. Free of pressure, formed to view. No matter who did turn the treasure within their hands, the wisdom was a treasure. A treasure formed from grit. By circumstance.

The rain did continue to patter, the ripples did continue their journey and divide about themselves beyond the mind's counting.

@Azurul Kanak
 
Placing himself within the heights of a tree, Azurul watched the Crackle Kit in silence. His visage was stoic and firm, like marble, even in the weather. Confusion gripped the beast as it mewed for its mother, circling the base; it froze, its fur standing on end. The harsh truth was now told as the kit nuzzled the cooling corpse, whimpers and humming could be heard as it grieved. Leaning back in his place, Azurul absorbed it all into himself, memories played back to him, clutching the corpse of his parents. Frowning heavily, despite discomfort, he watched on like an angel over its charge.

"Peace.." Azurul thought to himself as he bowed low, jumping into the next tree, he skirted the branches till he came upon Bartel's position. Hooking his legs around the branch, he swung down, landing on the opposite side of the tree. "Thank you, friend Bartels." Stepping from around the tree, the rabbit held out a hand to shake with Bartels own. Deep within his soul, he was grateful for the Peace Knight. Without this frohoggin Azurul would surely have perished in the night. Gazing over the armor, he fully drew in Bartels appearance, etching the image into his mind, he would remember this man.

"When we cross paths again, let us go on another adventure. One that ends in better tidings and rewards."

@Bartels
 
Immediate the response, given cordially, yet preluded with a sigh. As if it might release the weight of the day.

"Better tidings indeed," Bartels did say, clasping hand, shaking as warriors do. Bartels made an motion with his leg, three drums of his left foot against the floor.

"If nothing else, you must teach me that drumming next our meeting. Put much zeal into you, and zeal I do admire."

A smile, rippling across his face, a turn of the head, of solidarity to the craft of the warrior, conspiratorial to the joys of expression in building the fighting spirit before the dash and clash.

A release of the grip, and then a nod, another sigh, akin to one relishing a meal, or of a pleasant meeting concluded. Which it had been. For good or ill, a day had been carried. The past and their beasts put to rest. The future to those who inherited the days to come.

A single digit raise to the sky, and then a dip of the hand underneath breastplate. A small shell of luminous blue, pale and promising, attached to a leather band of knots and hair of creature that did wail against the waves. Curling into itself, the hiding the weave within the coils of the tiny conch did provide the Peace Knight with the means to create another day together.

"Dip this into water and then speak of my name, and where we might meet, in what frame of time. My own shell shall resonate, and yours shall glow a deeper blue should all be favourable. It'll reach me as sure as pond greets the rain. If it turns to grey, then I am away with other duties. Be well friend, be well in deed and in mind, Azurul."

And with that, with staunch Knight of the Lily Pad did give salute, a finality of respect. A firm blink, as Azurul's visage secured itself to memory.

And then a hop, a bound, and further hops, to places other than here, the rainfall giving splash to his landings and advancing, leaving sound of crackle mewling orphan firmly in the forest. To echo in the memory, to snap and surge in the collateral.

@Azurul Kanak
 
Azurul's chest swelled as he felt himself pause at this adventure's conclusion. For such a short time, much had been experienced in mind, body, and soul. Grimacing lightly, it turned to a smile as Bartels requested to be taught the Hare's Blade Dance. One was taught to him by his father, but it was far from complete. Smirking with joy, he nodded lightly, his ears flicked up right in acknowledgement.

"Gladly, my friend, I would be happy to teach you my family's Blade Dance." Azurul raised a brow as the Peace Knight withdrew a conch shell to help arrange their next meeting. Gripping it firmly, he tucked it in the deepest layer of his chest. There, it would be safe and sound until they met again. In turn, he handed Bartels a tanto blade to wield as a secondary.

"Blessings to you, my kindred. Be Stalwart and bend to nothing that would dare break your oath. Bear this blade well, Elven in enchantment, should you need to sever something, use it well with shroud. The blade will not fail you, be it stone or bone." Bowing low as Bartels turned to leave, the Hare prayed silently for the Peace Knight's safety. Adjusting the dual scimitars he gave one last look towards the forest, bidding the kit farewell, rubbing a broken claw piece he had found on the way out.

On he walked onward, face towards the pale orange disc rising into the sky.

'For I am my brother's Keeper.. Until we meet next, Bartels.'

- Fin
 
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