Submission (#6446) Approved

I'm a bit concerned about the secondary character "matron", I didn't name her as I hope to acquire an adult to use as the Matron retroactively (pretend it was always that nin). Is this okay, or do support roles need to be an specific elnin? My friend said she had used nameless background characters before but I think I may have gone too far?

If this is rejected, can I edit in a name and nin from the list of gift art characters to be Matron? Or would I need to fully re-write the story

Asche scratched his ear with his back leg thoughtfully. His mentor was away today, prepping for the miasma season - checking trails, shoring up weak points such as missing or broken markers, and so forth; things that a kittom could not keep up with as quickly as they needed to be done. Well, with the day off he had time to finish his present early, if he could find the right sticks. 

Scampering to the door, he pulled it open as quietly as he could manage – with the adventurers out, the villager matron of the group home might not take kindly to the kittoms being outside in the city without supervision. From the kitchens the voice of the matron lilted, “Little ones that are awake this early had better come help with breakfast” in the kind of no-nonsense way adults had. Asche shut the door tersely with a huffy, “Yes, ma’am,” as he stomped to the kitchen. The matron was a soft older elnin with a kind face and a hidden playfulness in her eyes that shone through when she tried to hide her laughter at the antics of the kittoms when they were being lectured by another adult. Asche liked that secret side of her, though it was never spoken she seemed to approve of the kits pushing the limits to a certain degree. Matron smiled kindly at him and pointed to a plate of fruit. “If you could peel those for the littles, please. I’ll fillet the fish and grill it.” 

Asche sighed and began peeling the bitter pith from the sectioned oranges and picking the seeds from the apples. Several of his litter mates were picky about their food, while others would eat anything without a second thought to getting sick – so in both cases, it was important that the matron prepared their meals thoughtfully and with extra care. At this rate, he thought woefully, he wouldn’t finish his gift before the miasma set in too thickly to find the objects he needed in the forest. He had lazed around significantly more than he realized and his procratinatoin caught up. He seen the way Zoph’s eyes had lit up while watching birds when they had been visiting Ealei and had resolved to make a birdcage as a gift. They were currently living in Silveil, where the sky rarely deviated. Sure, there were nights the moon was brighter and fuller, or days that clouds veiled even the brightest stars from shining. But the neverending nightscape was hardly the best place to capture a pet bird. That being said, it was still full of trees whose wood was excellent for fine crafts. He couldn’t cut down a whole tree, and dead limbs were often already home to mushrooms and insects so Asche was determined to find fresh shed limbs after high winds or at least pieces he could feasibly carry back to the city and get help reshaping. 

But that was all for nothing if he couldn’t slip out past the matron. Every time he finished one fruit and attempted to slink out of the kitchen, her knowing ears twitched and she turned to fix him with a gentle, amused stare; at which point he reached for another fruit, sneaking bites here and there. His tummy was round and tight before the fish was finished. 

“Since you’ve had a (reasonably) healthy breakfast, why don’t you go out and play? Keep nearby and on the trails. If I hear from any other elnin that you were found off a designated safe path…” the matron trailed off meaningfully. Asche gave her the most innocent look he could muster. “Yes’m, I’m not going far. I’ll be back by lunch.” He nipped out before hearing her reply. The din of tiny feet and pomu chirps thundered on the stairs as he bolted to the front door. He left it swinging behind him, knowing it would get him in trouble later but not caring. 

Here in Silveil, the night sky was a constant sight. During his first visit and for the first few days he had stayed here, it had been breathtaking and kept his full attention, each day and night had subtle changes to the sky – clouds, the moon waning, rain, rain without clouds in that strange way it seemed the stars themselves were almost falling. Now it had become such a tired routine. He missed the sun, the blanket of night muddied all the colors of the streets and made the forest seem threatening. His pilot lights lit his path, but that wasn’t always a boon. The theifs guild was rumored to be quite dangerous, and if he had any need to hide his lights would give him away quickly. He glanced again at the forest canopy overhead as he entered the path into the woods. Thin lines between the tree tops where they refused to touch made it seem the inky blackness was riddled with veins of shimmery sky. 

Asche proceeded to leave the path and clamber over fallen logs and shuffled through the leaves and undergrowth. Tiny motes of light twinkled in and out of existence as he passed trees, the lights were actually various glowing things – mushrooms, flowers, insects, momentarily hidden as he walked passed an almost invisible tree between them. It gave him the feeling of walking through the starry sky above, but with the earthy smells of the woods and the soft lapping of the lake shore somewhere not too distant. He snapped back to attention when he spotted the very thing he had been seeking: a dead limb, recently snapped, still caught off the ground, perhaps hanging by another limb or just not fully separated  - and best of all, within reach. Asche stretched up, one paw on the trunk and the other cautiously testing the snagged branch with his weight. It seemed pretty firmly secured so he risked putting his full weight on it. It groaned and made some unsettling cracking noises so he backed away and looked around. A few smaller twigs had come down, but nothing the size he needed. Maybe he could go back and get some rope, and use a little leverage to -- **POP** Asche jumped, twisting wildly before landing and springing away amidst a barrage of banging noises; like popcorn but a hundred times louder. His talons turned up spurs in the earth as he fled behind a nearby tree with a thick trunk. **THUD** His tail stood up straight, wings stretched for maximum intimidation. Panting and crouched, prepared to take off running again, he looked back where he had been moments before. The branch holding up the dead limb had given out, all the popping and creaking that had startled him was just the branch coming down. 

Shaking off the nerves, the warmth of the adrenaline spread to his toes and made him feel giddy as he investigated the fallen limb. The whole of it was far too large to move on his own, but there were plenty of bits that grew to the side and were the right thickness and length to carve down into slats for the base of the cage, and he was thankful the dead limb had brought down a healthy limb as there were many supple new branches. He worked slowly, bending larger pieces back and forth and working them free of the main branch. He stacked them carefully, measuring how large he thought the cage should be and how much extra to allow for mistakes. 

Asche had inadvertently lied to the matron. He was not back for lunch, in fact he spent the entire day and more than a little of the night carrying pieces of the branch to the local woodcutter and getting advice on the size, shape and thickness for the cage. His paws were sore from peeling the bark from the slender new branches and cutting them into thin strips to use as the “string” to tie the pieces to each other. Under the supervision of the woodcutter and craftsnin, Asche made impressive progress and learned a few things about soaking the wood to keep it pliable, heating it to cure the newer wood, sanding the rougher parts, and braiding the bark into a workable length of rope to braid between the bars. Bit by bit and hour by hour, his stack of branches began to resemble a proper birdcage. He was grateful to the crafters, he nearly forgot to put a door in the thing. They gave him a bit of twine and showed him how to make a temporary twist lock by wrapping it around two bars and sticking a bob of wood in to hold it in place. At long last he had all the pieces ready. He gladly thanked the nins and took his prize carefully back home, wrapped in a bit of oil cloth they had spared him. 

At the group home, the door was unlocked as usual. Asche pushed it open as softly as he could and stepped inside. The matron gave him a firm swat as he turned to pick up the present, but her laughing eyes showed she had already heard word of where he had been and she insisted on getting a proper look at the birdcage. Brimming with pride, Asche set it down and pulled the oilcloth off the rounded shape. The matron touched the sides and gently turned it around to admire it properly. “It’s lovely, Asche,” she took it to a cabinet and set it inside gently, closing the door with a soft clack. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it? Why don’t I help you make a bow tomorrow, to tie around the top before you give it to Zopheir? I have some lovely ribbons, you could pick a color that suits him.” 

Asche found himself feeling suddenly shy. “I’d like that, matron.” She didn’t answer, simply gazing at him with her secret laugh shining behind her eyes. “I’m sorry I missed lunch” he added. The matron shook her head, her soft laugh muffled as she hugged him tightly. “Wash up and get to bed, little one. We might even find some paint at the market in the morning.” Asche nuzzled against her and laughed too. “Yes’m!” he replied. He didn’t really want to paint it, the wood was still curing and needed to breathe according to the craftsnin. But that didn’t stop him from thinking of Zopheir gushing about catching a bird together to put in it. It was only going to fit a small bird for now, but if they took good care of it they could build a better, bigger cage together. He rushed upstairs and leapt into bed, the blankets half under him with a corner over his back, legs and arms sticking out. His toes twitched and a satisfied grin spread across his lips. Tomorrow his toes might have a few blisters, and he would smell of tree sap for days. There would be trouble for not washing up. But that was a problem for the morning, the day had been a lot longer than he thought and he fell asleep almost instantly. It was a deep sleep, one of those slumbers where dreams can’t catch you. Even his growling tummy couldn't rouse him, though the wood cutter had given him some snacks earlier. Zopheir had heard Asche return and crawled out of bed to slip another blanket on him properly. He grinned at whatever mischief his friend had been up to that day and clutched the leather braided bracelet he had made as a present, the small crystal beads cool on his paw pad. Zopheir had planned to give it to Asxhe today but had not excepted his friend to vanish for so long. He crawled back in bed and drifted off slowly, listening to Asche snore. Well, there was always tomorrow.