Chapter 3 - The True Proprium

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Skari's Cave

     The cave was silent, but for the shuffle of footsteps as Skari made his way inside. When he spoke his voice was rough, like two rocks drawn across each other. "I see you have returned to break more of my wares." Skari poked thoughtfully at the broken pot with his staff of rowan. "You are Anja and Tokki, right?"

     Anja's tongue was thick and unresponsive.

     "No, no sir!" said Tokki. "I mean yes, those are our names, but we meant not to break any of your... your fine items."

     Tokki stumbled on the words as he looked around the cave. The place was an utter shambles; a catastrophe only visible now that the sconces had been lit. The walls were covered in dilapidated wooden cupboards with doors hanging askew. There were several tables and other pieces of furniture that were tilted due to missing legs or being propped up by uneven rocks. Moss grew on a chair in the corner and spider webs decorated every corner. The ground was covered in a fine sheen of debris; glass and pottery shards, bits of cloth and splinters of wood.

     Tokki stood up, brushing himself off. When he rose to his full height, he realized that Skari was not as large a man as he initially seemed. In fact, he was quite small, perhaps only a centimeter or two taller than himself. The seer's shoulders appeared frail, like the wings of a baby ptarmigan, barely able to support the weight of the heavy cloak. Anja saw it too. This man, strange as he was, was not an intimidating physical presence.

     "Mr. Skari, sir. We did not mean to disturb you, or your home, here. We were just so concerned for Little Moon, I mean Nidi, here," Tokki said gesturing toward the sheep, its eyes cast up in imploring fashion.

     "And what do you have to say for yourself, young lady?" Skari asked.

     Anja gulped. She couldn't tell, but it felt like Skari was looking at Nidi as opposed to her.

     "I'm waiting for an explanation," the seer said sternly.

     "Blaaa! Bla-Blaaa!" replied Nidi.

     "Oh? Is that so?"

     "Blaa," the sheep huffed.

     A slow convulsing rumble took hold of the old seer. He lurched and hacked, wiping spittle from his mouth. Was he coughing or laughing? Anja could not tell.

     "Well alright then," laughed Skari, finally getting his convulsing under control. "My mistake, Nidi." The old man's smile was genuine and unabashed. He did not appear to be the dangerous troll Anja had been made to believe. She suddenly felt very ashamed.

     "Skari?" she asked.

     "Why, yes. Hello."

     "Years ago, sir. I did something hurtful, something shameful..."

     "Haven't we all?" the seer asked.

     "Yes, but this was personal to you. I threw that rock into your cave. I broke something and I ran away. I am very sorry for that."

     Skari's eyes twinkled beneath his hood.

     "I appreciate the sentiment. Your apology is accepted, and I ask that you think of it no more. We all do things in our youths which we can look back on with regret. It is quite useful to remember these times when we grow too fond of ourselves. Be glad your shameful act from years ago only hurt a clay pot and not something more valuable."

     "Still it was..." Anja started.

     "Forgiven." Skari finished placing a hand on Anja shoulder. "So, what is the state of our little Nidi?" Skari asked shifting his attention to the small sheep.

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