9. Practice Makes Family

47 9 64
                                    

archenland // year 1012

prompt: "crunchy"
word count: 1,976

xXx

Cor sighed.

His twin brother's giggles echoed through the open forest clearing, stinging like the lash of a rawhide whip against his skin, and he bit his lip in frustration as he retraced his steps to the beginning of the trail Corin had marked out for their training session that morning.

A sea of dry leaves crunched under his feet, patches of blue sky shining bright overhead beyond waving treetops of brilliant yellow and orange.

"You sound like a moose lumbering around like that," laughed Corin, the younger Prince's golden hair already slipping out of the tight knot meant to hold it up and out of the way, loose wisps fluttering around his grinning face. "You'll scare off every prey animal in a five mile radius, at this rate!"

"I don't even know what a moose is," muttered Cor.

"Big deer? Antlers?" Corin held his hands up with his wrists against his temples, as if it were the concept of antlers that Cor was struggling with. "Huge noisy oafs?"

"Just shut up and tell me how to do it again."

Corin dropped his arms and turned so that Cor could see his full silhouette, positioning his brown leather boots just like he had a thousand times before. "One foot directly in front of the other. Touch the ground with your toe first, not your whole foot. And aim for the patches without leaves."

"The whole place is leaves," grumbled Cor, but he placed one foot carefully in front of the other, eyeing his path across the mess of roots and pesky underbrush, an impossible fifteen yards from the tree meant to be his destination, trying to envision himself as a hunter like the ones carved around the wooden pillars in Anvard's great hall.

As if on cue, a twig snapped under his boot, loud and sharp from beneath a deceptively flat leaf.

He straightened and turned. "I give up. I can't do it."

Corin grabbed his arm before he could storm off, yanking him back with a shuffle of leaves underfoot. "Hey! Don't be such a stick in the mud, you'll figure it out quick enough, just like every other little nipper playing battles in the woods when they were five."

"Well, I didn't grow up in the woods," snapped Cor, "and we didn't have any stupid leaves at the river mouth. I can be quiet on rocks."

"Everyone can be quiet on rocks." 

Cor yanked his arm free and trampled loudly through the hateful dry undergrowth, aiming for the path back up the hill to the castle.

Corin jogged after him.

"I'm not in the mood."

But Corin snatched his wrist anyway, ducking around in front of him to block his path. "What's wrong with you today? It's not that hard, you'd get the hang of it in no time if you'd only try. Lion, I never knew I had such a boring brother! Honestly, sometimes I'm embarrassed we're related."

Cor ripped his arm free again and shoved Corin out of the way with far more force than necessary, but the younger boy only grabbed him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides.

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