RP:Chase the Rabbit and Spill the Stew

Summary: Josleen confronts Kovl about the details of her capture. Kovl admits that he cannot remember the circumstances in which she was captured. Josleen asks the pixie whether he was on drugs during their escape attempt from the enemy fort in Frostmaw, and silence tells her all she needs to know before storming out of Kovl's tent.

Frozen Pathway

Kovl reclines with his back against a burning lantern as he wraps his arms around his knees. The warmth of the lantern heats his cloak, allowing him to forget the cold, snow-covered ground outside his tent. Hildegarde's supporters have been nothing but accomodating for the little pixie, even if the smallest tent they could provide was one meant for a giant. This tent has been Kovl's home for the last few days to support Hildegarde as she recovers, and while he wants to provide morale for Josleen after her imprisonment, he's too afraid she will question why he left her there in the first place. The pixie closes his eyes as he rests.

Josleen takes a much needed break from the medical tent. With morale high once more, the lead healer can duck out more freely, which she requires for her own emotional health. Her near brush with death demands attention and time to process her feelings and make sense of what happened. But she doesn’t have all the facts about that fateful night when she was taken as a prisoner of war. It is on that fact-finding mission that she approaches the entrance to Kovl’s tent. He’s been scarce lately, but not from the camp itself but from her company. She assumes he’s embarrassed by what happened and suspects nothing worse. Her faith in him remains unshaken, despite the questions that rattle that faith to rend it asunder. Outside the entrance flap she says, “Evening, Kovl. Do you have a mind for company?” Pause. “I brought food.”

Kovl's eyes snap open as he hears Josleen's voice outside of the tent. A pit forms in his stomach. "Hey Josleen. Come on in." At least she brought food. Her intentions on this conversation seem good. Maybe this isn't about her imprisonment at all. Maybe she just wants to spend time with him. As Josleen enters, a smile forms on the pixie's face. A feigned one, but a smile nonetheless. "How are you feeling?" Kovl stands.

Josleen holds up a leather food carrier bag as she steps inside. “Still hot. Rabbit stew, a bit thin on the rabbit, but heavy on the stew.” She chuckles softly, perhaps even nervously, at her own weak joke. Although she doesn’t doubt Kovl, she knows her questions may sound like accusations and she doesn’t want to hurt him. She sits cross-legged on the floor near Kovl’s lantern and starts unpacking the carrier. First, a large sealed portion of stew. “Physically, I’m alright. But I admit to wrestling with some unsettling thoughts since the rescue. That’s why I’m here. I just want clarity.” She holds up a small glass jar of white spice stoppered with cork. “I also borrowed some salt from the kitchens. Without intending to cause undue offense to Brumhilde,” the giantess in charge of food, “the meals these days could use more salt. That doesn’t leave this tent, hm?” She pulls out an empty elf child-size, pewter bowl for Kovl, which is likely still too large but the army doesn’t carry pixie-size kitchenware. It’s a miracle Josleen found even that. “How have you been?”

Kovl watches Josleen settle into his tent, unpacking the rabbit stew and filling the child-sized bowl for him. He feels the warmth radiating from the bowl and smiles at Josleen's joke. "Thank you for this. This is really thoughtful." The pixie makes no mention of Josleen's admission of struggling with her thoughts. Instead he comments on Josleen's food critique. "Perhaps giants don't care for a lot of salt." He shrugs and grins at Josleen. While Josleen pours the stew, the pixie's attention remains on the food, and his smile fades. Already lies and excuses begin to pile in his mind. -If she says this, I say this.- The pixie takes a sharp breath. "I'm doing alright. I'm just tired of this cold. Your stew will help a lot."

Josleen hands off Kovl’s bowl for him to play with the scale issue as he wills. Before speaking on the tense subject at hand she enjoys a spoonful of her own, stalls. “I’m tired of the cold too. Though it isn’t as bad here as it was up there. I thought I would freeze to death before they killed me. They threw some dirty furs at me. It was…” She shudders at the memory. “I try not to think about it, but I can’t help it. I need to think about it, sort out what happened, and figure out how to work that experience into my identity without having it take over who I am, you know? I don’t want to be that prisoner forever. I don’t like that it takes up a whole book in the story of me, you know? That’s why I want to talk about it. About what it felt like up there, when I was captured. Everything was so senseless. The hate, the abuse, their plan of what to do with me. It felt unreal that I was in that cage, and the most confusing part was that I could not figure out how I wound up there. I mean, I know the giants put me there. I’m not blaming you for anything, I want that to be clear, but how did they catch me in the first place? Then I realize I don’t even know what happened to you, or how we got separated. What happened?”

Kovl nods as Josleen begins to talk about the cold, but he becomes still as Josleen begins to recount her experience. The pixie becomes pale while he listens to her speak. The pit in his stomach grows larger, and Kovl begins to feel nauseous. He bites his lip as she admits she does not know why she was captured. A long pause passes before the pixie speaks. "I'm sorry you were captured, Josleen. I cannot imagine what you experienced. I did everything in my power to keep you safe. And I failed. I'm sorry, Josleen. I'm really sorry." The pixie stares at his stew. "We just... we got separated. I couldn't help you." The pixie struggles to remember what happened the day she was captured.

Josleen shakes her head to reassure him. Her hand nears him for him to take, a little touch of solidarity, even if very brief. “No, no, no, Kovl. I don’t blame you. I am not mad. I knew the risks going in. We both did. I would say you are forgiven if there was something to forgive, but there is nothing to forgive. Things happen. I just want to know exactly what happened. It helps me process it all.” She takes a deep breath, exhales loudly, then continues, “So, I remember we were in the bathroom looking out the window. The plan was you would float me down. There was a knock on the door, an angry knock. I felt you hit my back, I fell out the window. What happened to you? I know you weren’t hit or captured by them. They never said anything about my having an accomplice. So what happened?”

Kovl touches Josleen's hand lightly, but he continues to look down at the stew. Josleen's words of comfort encourage him a little, and it assures him she isn't angry. Yet. The pixie speculates that if Josleen knew he irresponsibly was high when he left her, she will hate him. Silence. Kovl doesn't look up, and instead he starts to tremble slightly. Should he weave an elaborate story? Should he tell the truth? Another sixty seconds pass, and these seconds seem like an eternity. "I don't know, Josleen." That is all he says. He cannot continue the rest of the story. Instead, his mouth clamps shut again.

Josleen grows suspicious the longer Kovl stays silent. Silences are terrible cover stories for inconvenient truths. A sense of foreboding blossoms in her chest. “What do you mean you don’t know? Can you walk me through it as you know it? Even the parts you don’t understand. It’s alright if you don’t have all the answers, just tell me what you do? Please?” Her stew grows cold as she forgets it. “So we’re in the bathroom, looking out the open window, there’s a knock at the door. Then what?”

Kovl's gaze moves back to Josleen as her question has an accusatory tone. "I didn't mean to leave you back there. I didn't want you to get captured. I came back for you, didn't I?" Kovl's posture becomes defensive. "I care about you a lot, and I just couldn't get you out of that fort alone. I thought I was capable. I was stupid enough to think it was a good idea bringing you into Frostmaw, and it looks like I overestimated myself. I played with your life, and I failed." The question goes unanswered.

Josleen ‘s voice rises a little bit in frustration. “Kovl, I’m not blaming you!” Her hands open on either side of her in a helpless gesture, palms up. “I took on that same risk. I know you care about me. I just need to know, for myself, what happened. Why can’t you tell me what happened? Step by step. I’m not going to get mad at you. I know things happen. I just need those things defined.”

Kovl shakes his head and stands again, walking back toward his lantern. "I can't help you, Josleen." Kovl sits, facing the opposite side of his tent. "I already told you I don't know." The pixie's chest and shoulders rise and fall with his heavy breathing. He trembles as he grips a nearby blanket in his hand. His mind races through ways he can avoid the rest of this conversation. Does he fake an illness? Should he fake an attack on the camp? Please, no. Why is this happening? Kovl continues to shake.

Josleen's stare narrows on the back of Kovl’s tiny head and massive attitude, but her glare gives way to confusion as she notices him trembling. Did he do something wrong and against her? That’s so implausible, but who knows with pixies. The whole race is comprised of unpredictable pranksters. Was her imprisonment, and near execution, a prank? It wouldn’t be the first prank he’s ever committed against her, but certainly the most dangerous by miles. “Kovl… did you let me get captured as some sort of joke? Another one of your pranks?”

Kovl climbs to his feet and turns to Josleen. "NO!" The pixie shouts. "Do you think I'd sacrifice your life as some sick joke?" Kovl, if he could think reasonably at this moment, would realize that Josleen may simply not understand his race, customs, culture, and mannerisms. She doesn't understand that pixies are extremely loyal to those who earn their friendship. Pixie pranks are life-threatening to those pixies care nothing about. "I never wanted you to be captured. I'd not wish that mental distress on you, someone I consider a close friend. I don't know what happened! I already told you, Josleen." Kovl continues to tremble as he clenches his fists.

Josleen sits up on her knees when he rises for her empathy often makes her a mirror. She wears his tension and alertness too. She sits back on her heels once his tirade kicks off, then crosses her arms before her chest and glances off to the side, head shaking in disbelief. When he’s finished she looks back at him, her gaze and tone sharp. “Alright. Alright! It wasn’t a prank. I believe you. But, Kovl.” Her lips press together and she takes another sharp breath through her nose. When she speaks her hands gesture a lot to make her point. “You’re acting very strange. I know there is something you’re not telling me. I can feel it. Why? At least tell me why you can’t tell me. What’s going on?”

Kovl feels cornered as Josleen rises on her knees, a stance reminiscent of animals that make themselves bigger to scare away predators. The pixie takes a step back. His chest puffs up as he draws in a large breath, and he finally lets out a long sigh. Kovl wants so badly to keep Josleen's friendship. She's already assuming the worst in him. Kovl's lips tremble as he utters these next few words, trying his hardest not to cry. "I can't tell you what happened because I don't remember what happened." The pixie looks at the ground, wanting nothing more but to leave this tent. The pressure is building more than what he feels he can handle in this moment. Kovl feels trapped, and like any cornered animal, he feels the slightest trigger will cause him to lash out. He needs to breathe.

Josleen teepees her hands over her nose and mouth and shakes her head in disbelief. “Kovl, I--” Her hand rubs nervously at her collar. Tears start to well up in her lashes and she sniffles loudly as she wipes them away before they spill. She recalls his color-changing eyes, his strange behavior during her convalescence at the fort, and even months ago in Xalious Park, his strange behavior then. For some reasons this accusation feels worse than accusing him of a prank, and her voice squeaks a little as she asks, “Were you taking something? Some… drink or powder or?”

Kovl's trembles intensify, and his face forms into an ugly expression as he fights the urge to release tears. He plops back onto his blanket, grips it again and stares through the tent's floor. No answer comes from his mouth. Another moment passes while the pixie takes several short breaths. The secret the pixie has been hiding is now in the light, but he cannot bring himself to admit it. Instead, his body is stiff. His mouth refuses to open. His gaze cannot meet Josleen. Kovl's body refuses to work with him, so he just stares at the ground, not saying anything. The true nature of the pixie's spirit is laid bare, exposed and damaged.

Josleen ‘s lips draw into a thin, wide line. Heat rises from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. The knowledge of Kovl’s drug abuse during their life-threatening mission overwhelms. There’s no place right now for the empathy Kovl has earned through years of friendship. Josleen and Kovl, after everything they’ve been through together, are family to one another. Like family, their ugly moments are as intense as the good. She expects more of him than most others, and he expects the same of her--such as maybe, in this case, her understanding and support. But she can’t. She entrusted him with her life. Then this. This which feels like a betrayal, though rationally somewhere buried deep beneath the anger Josleen knows it is not a betrayal. Drug abuse is bigger than the abuser, some kernel of reason whispers deep in her heart. She doesn’t hear it right now. All she can think about is that moment when she was kneeling on the gallows, her back to the executioner, and had it not been for the executioner’s change of heart, she would have died. Hildegarde and Kovl would not have made it in time. They would have missed the window of opportunity by moments and her corpse would be bloating in Frostmaw. Her mouths opens as if to shout something obscene, but words fail her. She rises, kicks over the stew by accident, and storms out of the tent, incapable of manipulating her emotions into words. A rare moment of ineloquence for the bard. Her rage makes her nauseous. She needs to cool air outside, the breeze, and solitude. She stomps into the woods to have a moment with herself.