Spirit Animals: The War For The White Bloom

The Ambush

Dawson loved his excursions with Rumfuss. Roaming in the forests, playing and shouting to his heart's content and watching Rumfuss run about freely simply made his day. 

Today was no different. They'd been near the edge of Trunswick grounds, Rumfuss running around, poking his nose into every log fallen around, crashing anthills, and Dawson letting go of all the tensions of being an Earl.

Tomisill town was the closest one around, and it was far enough for no one to hear anything. Dawson whooped. The sound seemed to echo.

Rumfuss occasionally let Dawson feel the wind like he did, smell the various fragrances Dawson never got a sniff of, and hear everything Dawson would have never heard otherwise. These days were the best.

Dawson's orange hoodie was overworn. He had been wearing it for the entire last week, and he was glad the fabric did not have a voice. It'd have had a vocabulary like that of a sailor, judging from the smell.

His mother would have twisted his ears past recognition if she saw his hair right now. Over six months of being ignored and forgotten had let it grow wild and unkempt. It fell over to his face and he had to continuously push it back to see. 

The comb was ignored so much that it might have even forgotten what its purpose was. Dawson decided that he'd cut the hair near his ears - they were covering the ears and it tickled. 

He sat down at a tree stump, exhausted. Rumfuss turned back to look at him like, Anything wrong? 

He waved his hands to let him know that he was just catching his breath. Rumfuss was a caring partner. He got very concerned every time Dawson was left too far back or when he was too tired. 

Not like Dawson did not appreciate the attention - he was used to being the youngest one and being cared for by everyone. But he also yearned to be thought of as mature and responsible. Rumfuss and he'll probably have to face many more hurdles, and Rumfuss being his babysitter would not work every time. Dawson had to learn to watch out for himself.   

Rumfuss came and nuzzled his shin. He was still treating Dawson like a baby. This way, he'd never learn to watch out for himself. 

He realized that he was fortunate to have a brother like Devin, who considered him as an equal rather than a younger brother. If not for him, Dawson would have been pampered to no extent by Daphne and his parents.

Thinking of Daphne brought back a familiar twinge of pain. If someone in the Trunswick family was treated unfairly by the Trunswicks themselves, it would have been her. She was born on the same day as Devin, but was hardly considered on the same scale by either of his parents. 

She had never complained. Dawson had seen how sad she was on the day of her Nectar ceremony. Hers was conducted a week after Devin's, as daughters only came second after sons. Their father wasn't even in Trunswick. He'd gone to meet Zerif for the deal of the Bile.

She'd been the only one to summon a spirit animal that day. Father had come, asked Taeem to park the carriage, and gone to sleep.   

Dawson had seen her at the rooftop, signing with her nightingale.  Her voice was very sweet. She and Devin were twins, and they looked very similar, but the similarities ended at brown hair and pale skin. 

Daphne's eyes were sparkling blue, and her eyebrows were thin. While Devin always stood straight and his gaze was straight with a leader's aura, Daphne had a more creative spirit. She drew a lot, and her hands were almost always doing something. 

She'd once made a Rumfuss model for him out of straws, and the orange hoodie, which he wore everywhere, had a silver pendant stitched behind the pocket, always next to his heart. It had a rice grain on which his name was ingrained.