[he doesn’t have to is true. he doesn’t necessarily need to be an attacker, especially when it’s not much in his nature (when the silence doesn’t intervene). he doesn’t need to be on the front lines, like so many captains have indoctrinated. but that doesn’t remove from falco something that is his. he wants to help. in some way, he wants to be helpful, and he wants to aid others who need it. like paul, like the fallen enemy soldier that spat curses at him as he stopped his bleeding.
falco’s back erects at the possibility that comes with the question paul asks. attentive, his smaller hands give a squeeze upwards at the larger ones clapping them together. ]
I’ve been practicing them on rags. [ he— he probably needed proof of that, in some way, and briefly leaves the hold of paul’s hands to turn with his torso, behind the chair where his messenger bag hung. it was in the larger flap, right next to a wooden box with simple tools. he was a resourceful boy and it was hard to let what he’s learned and been drilled for go. he speaks the truth, that he’s been practicing: when he turns back around, falco places the rag (about the size of a hand towel) on his lap for show. stitches peppered about the fabric range from mildly crude (but intricate) knots to exceptionally neat ones, learned from doctors and healers he’s been occasionally accompanying. falco had an interest in a blood minister’s job, but was frightened of the prospect of using his own blood (a problem they would get to, if he proved himself in more basic disciplines); there’s even improvements, when compared to the one he’s done on paul. ] Would this help—?
[ he didn’t have to fight. he didn’t. but maybe, he could serve in a way that was beneficial for all, including himself. ]
no subject
falco’s back erects at the possibility that comes with the question paul asks. attentive, his smaller hands give a squeeze upwards at the larger ones clapping them together. ]
I’ve been practicing them on rags. [ he— he probably needed proof of that, in some way, and briefly leaves the hold of paul’s hands to turn with his torso, behind the chair where his messenger bag hung. it was in the larger flap, right next to a wooden box with simple tools. he was a resourceful boy and it was hard to let what he’s learned and been drilled for go. he speaks the truth, that he’s been practicing: when he turns back around, falco places the rag (about the size of a hand towel) on his lap for show. stitches peppered about the fabric range from mildly crude (but intricate) knots to exceptionally neat ones, learned from doctors and healers he’s been occasionally accompanying. falco had an interest in a blood minister’s job, but was frightened of the prospect of using his own blood (a problem they would get to, if he proved himself in more basic disciplines); there’s even improvements, when compared to the one he’s done on paul. ] Would this help—?
[ he didn’t have to fight. he didn’t. but maybe, he could serve in a way that was beneficial for all, including himself. ]