Staff's At Dawn (Attn: Eve/Garren)

[Lou]

Vance never once expected to get a strike against the Gaidin, even in this more relaxed spar they had going on. He continued on, placing another few jabs which were easily blocked by the other man, and for a moment Vance wondered where this session was going. But when Garren spoke Vance tensed, and when the Gaidin asked why he almost tripped over a root that he had steeped over a handful of times already. He wished he cities tell the man no, he couldn't ask. But that was not Vances way, he could never be rude, even when it made him uncomfortable to be honest. "There was word that Trollocs were raiding the area where my parents farmed." His voice was somewhere between flat and steel. "The... The Aes Sedai would not go, said it was to late." An edge came to that steel now, and he fumbled at a swing that should have been easy. "I had to go... If only to bury them." His eyes were bright, as if there were tears there, yet they didn't fall, as if they were held in by his will alone.

[Eve]

“Be careful, Drin.” he said quietly as the other’s footwork and strikes began to lose their edge. “There will be many battles with pain in your heart. Learn to feel it, but learn to fight through it. Let it guide you instead of hinder you.” He didn’t really sound like he was lecturing. In fact, his voice was suddenly low and soft, a little distant, and somehow gently emotional at once. Even his eyes seemed to have unfocused. It should have hindered him, and yet he continued to block each strike. For several moments silence reigned again before Garren spoke. “I left the Tower as well, years ago, beneath the will of my Ward...my wife….” He told the other, his voice quiet and measured, but holding soft emotion that had to have gone deeper. “We brought our children, but I do not know if they still live.” The pain in his golden eyes was unshielded as he said this. “My wife, my Ward, succumbed to madness. If they survived, I have no way of knowing, nor of finding them…”

[Lou]

Vance did not answer Garren as he spoke of being careful, and of fighting while heart sick. He wanted to ask the man what he knew of it, how could he possibly know how Vance was feeling? But again he kept his messed up thoughts behind his eyes, and not out in the open where they could upset sometime. Light forbid he did that. Vance knew it was the man's voice that had helped him hold his silence, he wasn't sounding smug, or as a know it all, he sounded as if he could be pulled into memory right along side Vance. They continued on, the fact the man was not pummelling Vanes face into the dirt over and over telling that he wanted this long and drawn out bout. But wen he spoke, of his wife and kids, and what had happened Vance actually stopped and took a step back. He shook his head a little. "What? How do you go on? How do you not punch the face of every whiny Drin who complains he has a splinter or a blister?" His own voice cracked slightly, betraying how hard he found so many things recently.

[Eve]

The last part of his question caused a small flash of humor to pass in those ever expressive yellow eyes. He had never been one of those Gaidin hewn from stone unless the situation called for it. His passion had always been a large part of him. He allowed his gaze to focus on the youth, and he stepped back as well. Planting Whistler in the ground, he leaned on his staff and looked at the young man. “Those that are sent to me to train are rarely whiny.” He said, and that was true enough. Garren didn’t teach classes these days, though he had been approached with the idea of beginning again. He wasn’t sure if he should or not. The ones he trained were sent to him specifically by those higher than he. “I imagine they weed out those before putting them close to me with a weapon.” He dropped his gaze them. “I’ve never been an...angry man.” He told the other honestly enough. “But I don’t know if that would hold these days.” He sighed softly. He had been raised by wolves, no matter the training here, emotions good and bad had never been something he could block out entirely, and he had never felt the need to feel shame when someone asked him, point blank, about how he was feeling. “But pain is...strange…” he said finally. “There’s not a single thing you can do to make it better, or worse. You could kill every person involved with your pain, and it would not make it a single bit easier to bear.” He spoke of killing not as if he enjoyed it, but as if it was a part of everyday life, like using the restroom. Distasteful, but needed occasionally. “Oh, it might help you believe you have done something needed… But the pain is still there. The ache, the wound. There is not Healing for it, like for the body. There is no cure. It hurts, it causes you to wake in the night.” His eyes were clouded over in pain, though they were dry. He had cried once or twice, but he hadn’t grown up in that culture, and it wasn’t something he normally did, or even had to suppress. “Sometimes, I still hear one of my daughters crying when I wake up. She was a small, sickly thing as a child, and I’d have to listen for her in the night. It always takes me a moment to realize she’s not only not there, but she was a teenager before she was gone. Of course I don’t hear a baby crying.” He shook his head slowly. “But pain is a funny thing. While there’s nothing you can do to make it better, it does get better. But it takes time. A long, long time, and some don’t make it.” He looked up at the Tower passed the Yards. “I work. I work hard. I have a new Ward, and I love her very, very much.” he closed his eyes for a moment, brow crumpling for just a second before smoothing again. “And it helps to be near her…. but it still hurts. So I work, and every day takes me one step further from the pain. Slowly, it gets better. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt pain. Even this bad, it’s not the first time. I know it gets better...So I work. I work, and I wait. And I pray to the Light that I’m strong enough to make it through, just one more time…”

[Lou]

Vance knew it was not his place to stop the lesson like this, but he watched as the golden eyed man lowered his staff and began to speak. He did look to have amusement in his eyes to start with, but that soon changed as his words changed. He was soon speaking of his life, his item hardships, and how they had impacted him in such ways. He spoke of his love, his Ward, his children, all now lost to him, and his ward who he loved now. Vance had no idea what to say to any of it. Had the man spoken to ease something in Vance or himself? Had he done it to show Vance that others had it harder than he had? He truly had no idea as he stood there, sweat on his brow from the climbing sun over head and the practise they had already done together.

"I'm sorry for your loss." What else could be say? Surely anything eke would sound weak to his ears, and he looked down at the ground for a moment. "So I can only go on, work through the pain and try and find that moment of peace inside myself again?" Urgh, the words sounded so hollow even to his own ears, and when had that touch of anger and defeatism entered his voice? He lowered his eyes in shame. "Forgive me, I didn't not mean that to sound as disrespectful as it came out."

[Eve]

Garren could smell the confusion coming from the other’s scent. He worried a little that he had gone to far, told the other to much. People seemed strange with emotions sometimes, it was something he didn’t quite understand, even after all this time. And who would be uncomfortable with what was always a hard question to answer. He wasn’t ashamed, however, and the other’s scent did not cause him to shut down and wall himself off, as it might have some others, especially the Gaidin. He gave a small smile, and nodded. “Find something you can throw yourself into. Something you either want to do, or something you enjoy. Even something that is difficult to you, but you are interested in can help to while away the hours.” He leaned a little more heavily on his staff. He didn’t seem as if his reasons for telling the other all this was anything other than one human being reaching out to another. Then he shook his head. “I’m never going to punish you for speaking your mind, Drin Koltrin. Others may, but I…” he inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. “I find I am different than others in many ways. I’ve never quite understood their need to wall themselves inside their own head.” He paused for a moment, and then asked off subject. “Tell me, do you ride?”

[Lou]

Vance had no idea what Garren would say now, he was hardly the man he had thought he was. He was in physical prowess, he could tell that from the little he had seen, but this was hardly the fierce , growling Gaidin that had Drin running for cover and Ji sweating to attention. His advice was welcome, though Vance simply nodded his head. He should show the man his rota, the one he had given to the Mistress at Arms, the one that showed her how committed he was to his training. "I am, my training. I have nothing else to focus on now." He ran a hand through his shaggy hair at the back of his head. "The Grey Tower has my life now, and I have give myself to it hundred percent." He watched as Garren leaned on his staff, and Vance copied the stance as it was the most comfortable way to stand like this. Vance nodded his head as Garren spoke of never punishing him for speaking his mind. "Thank you, Garren Gaidin." When he asked if he rode, Vance gave over a small smile and nodded his head. "Oh, yes. My Father was part of the Malkeri Army, and also served time in the Saldaean Calvary. My Father had me in a saddle before I could even climb into one myself." He chuckled at that, it being one of his more favourite memories of his childhood.

[Eve]

Garren nodded as the man told him of his dedication to the Tower. “It is a good thing to put your trust into.” he said. Turning, he looked up at the Grey Tower, a place that had been his home many times over the years. “The Tower itself stands for equality among the Channelers. And it even gives people like us, those who have no Power, a place to belong, and a place to be needed. I’ve always believed that following the needs of the Tower to be a noble one. Good people come and go, and the evil are always scheming, so one must be careful of humans. But the Tower itself is something beyond even that… Help to hold it’s honor, and no matter what others think of you, you’ll never go wrong.” He smiled an old, tired smile, and then turned back to the other. Standing upright, he gestured for the young man to follow him. “Come with me. I have something you might like to see.”


As they walked from the Yards, Garren continued to talk. “I’ve always been an early riser.” he said, not mentioning his raising, or how the wolves had slept often through the day, but things like sunset and sunrise had never failed to wake him from the sounds alone. “Each morning at Dawn I come to the Yards to go through staff or unarmed forms. To complete forms you must dedicate time. They take patience, balance, and power. You cannot whip through a form as if you were in a spar.” Vance had seen a sample of his form that morning, when he had held it. “If you are interested, and if you are willing to give up some of your sleep, you may join me and I can begin to teach them to you. Your forms will be simpler than mine at first, but it is a good way to clear one’s mind.” By the time this little speech was over, it was clear that they were going to the stables. Garren opened a half gate and let Vance pass first before pulling it closed behind them. The smell of hay and animal hit his nose, and he smiled. It was a familiar, comfortable smell. “If you decide to come, however, I’ll ask you to stay dedicated to it. Learning forms is something that must be done every day, not only whenever you have time. Here we are,” He had stopped in front of one of the barns. Instructing Vance to stay there, he dipped inside the barn. A moment later the door was pushed open and a large stallion walked himself out alone. He had no tack on at the moment except his bridle, and his coat, a brown so dark it wa nearly black, shone brightly in the morning light. Soon after that, Garren came back out. Next to him was a much smaller version of the stallion next to him. Though this one was a filly, she still had that deep brown coat (a little lighter in this case) and what would one day be an elegant style. She was to young for a bridle or tack, but she seemed to walk quite well on the rope he had tossed loosely around her long neck. Garren looked at the large stallion now walking around the fenced in area. “That’s Bistre.” he said, smiling at the name, as it was only another word for ‘dark brown’. “I’ve had him for about seven years now, and he’s a good horse. This little filly is his second foal.” He chuckled. “About three years ago he broke out where I was living and mounted a mare before we could stop him. To keep from having to pay for it, I had to give the foal he produced to the mare’s owners.” He shook his head. “Bistre has always had spirit, and the filly is just like him.” She seemed to know he was talking about her, because she lifted her little head and tossed it, giving a small neigh. “She’s only 3 months old. I looked to have Bistre mount a mare as soon as he got here, in hopes that by the time Bistre was retired, any foal of his would be old enough to ride. However… She’s turned out to be a bit of a handful, as spirited as she is.” He looked at Vance, giving the man a small smile. “It’s gonna be years before she’s old enough to train to ride, at least 3, and I think I’ll have plenty of time to find another mare for Bistre. If you want to help me take care of her, and daily, you’re free to have her. We’ve been calling her Calamity, but her name isn’t official yet…”

[Lou]

Vance stayed still as Garren spoke of putting his trust into the Grey Tower, how it would never let him down. People were fallible, he knew, they could become corrupted, or lost on their paths, but a building, one that served as a beacon for the good of the Creator, that could not die. You could not kill an idea once it was born, it could only grow, change, shape, and Vance knew that. He had been waiting his whole life for the King of Markeri to take his place and lead his forces against the Shadow. He had lived for that ideal, and now he lived for another. "I will Gaidin, I will." He nodded to the man, and frowned when he was asked to accompany him somewhere, and with an nod and an easy shrug, he began to move along with the larger man, just one step behind in a show of difference and respect. A Beta behind his Alpha.

Vance listened as Garren spoke of being an early riser and practising every morning. He knew the man was offering him the chance to join him, and while he already was on the practise grounds before most other Drin and Ji, Vance nodded his head to Garren. "Gaidin, I would like that very much. You tell me the time and I shall be there." He looked to him and shared a hint of a small smile and a nod of his head as they arrive at the stables. That was a surprise, but he did not question, it was not his place to question after all.

Vance stood back as Garren indicated for him to, and waited patiently. When a large stallion came out on his own, Vance looked him over and impressed. It was a war horse that much he knew, and he knew not to approach without Garren, the War trained could be ferocious to any one that was not their rider. But when Garren came out with a younger filly, Vance looked her over appreciatively. She was a beautiful, and looked to grow into a wonderful mount. "She is beautiful, Gaidin." He listened as Garren spoke of Bistre's story, and how Calamity had come into being. The filly shook her head as if she knew that they were talking about her, and Vance grinned and moved to stroked her neck gently. Garren's offer of her for the aid in training and keeping her made Vance take a step back, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open almost comically. "Seriously? Garren...I mean Gaidin...I..." He ran a hand over his face and then looked to him again, "I would be honoured, Gaidin. To help you."

[Eve]

Garren gave the other a smile as he responded. “Garren is fine when we’re not in training.” He told the other, stroking his hand down Calamity’s back. Watching the other’s shock made his smile grow, and for just a moment that haunted look left his eyes as he nodded his head. “Now, understand.” he said, holding out the rope to the young man. “I’m not giving her to you for free. This is going to be years worth of hard work. Training a horse is extremely hard, and breaking her to ride is going to be the easiest part. You’ll have to see to her multiple times a week so that you get used to her. In maybe a year you can begin to blanket train her, but you won’t be able to even think of teaching her to ride until she’s at least three. That’s going to be years worth of work put into her…It is a dedication to train your own horse, and the goal is to have her respond to you without breaking her spirit. Do you think you can do that? If not, tell me now. I won’t hold it against you. There is a lot of difference in riding horses and teaching them…”