Dawn [Alpha]

[Muse]

Although it was nowhere near cold enough to snow, the weather this morning was bitter cold, and very windy. Mira, as soon as she’d awakened, had combed through her hair with her fingers and pulled it back into a pony tail. She was reluctant to get out of her warm bed, but slowly threw the covers off of her and dug through the small dresser in the guest bedroom she’d made to be hers for the time-being and pulled out a pair of old, but comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that was too big for her. She grabbed an old, beat-up jacket off the door knob where it hung and got herself dressed. She would do work she’d have to do outdoors now. Working in the bitter cold was better than working when it was warmer in the afternoon, in her opinion. Because, that way, she wouldn’t get too hot. She’d be able to work a little longer without getting tired.

Glancing at the clock, she realized she’d woken up a little later than usual. She figured Rhea would most likely be at school by now. It was nearly nine in the morning. As she headed out, she saw where the goats and sheep were kept, in separate pastures that were near each other. She neared, and as she got closer, she saw Democritis.
”Wonderful,” she muttered. ”Just wonderful. Why couldn’t he still be young enough to be in high school?” she asked herself, staring up at the sky as she walked.

She was supposed to feed the goats and sheep, and sheer them. She wondered vaguely what Democritis would be doing out here. Enjoying the fresh air, she was guessing. Maybe doing some work. She wasn’t sure. After all, she hadn’t even been here twenty-four hours yet. She had no idea what Democritis did.

”Cold today,” she commented almost boredly as she got within earshot of the older man.

[FAIL.]

[alpha]

Democritis looked up from where he was absentmindedly patting a brown and white goat on the head-her name was Fudge in case anybody wanted to know, Rhea named her-and looked almost lazily over at Mira, more at peace now then he was the other day when he had snapped at Mira.
"Yeah, it's a bit chilly." He said, he was wearing a light jacket, a simple teeshirt he had cut the sleeves off underneath that, his thick blonde hair pulled back into a tiny pony tail at the base of his neck to keep the longer strands off of his face and neck.
"I figured I would help you out, too get things done quicker." Democritis said with a blank voice, taking his hand off of Fudge who bleated loudly in protest and butted lightly against Democritis's leg, and he swatted her away.
"I've already fed them." He said to her, tossing her a pair of shears-probably not the safest thing to do, but being a farm boy who knew who to toss around sharp instruments- "So we can get started with the sheering."

He made his way over to a barn, where he had the first batch of sheep pinned, unhappily bleating. Fudge trotted at his heels and bleated as well. Rhea had that things trained like a dog, she claimed that goats were smarter then most people gave them credit for, and also claimed that he followed simple commands like sit but Devon had never tried it out.
"I'll hold them and you sheer them, I don't think you could hold them by yourself." He told her, not meaning for that to come an insult though she might have taken it as so. He was trying to be helpful- a good attempt, but he was going about it the wrong way- to make up for snapping at her, he went for the first sheep, but it seemed to know what was going on and made a ruckus, making it difficult for Democritis to catch him, and he was quickly getting frustrated.
"Stupid sheep..." He mumbled, lunging at it again only to slip and fall.

((::is shot:

[Muse]

There was a faint, momentary flash of disbelief in Mira’s eyes as he said he would help her. That was rare. She never would have expected that from him, especially not after the day before. Of course, the disbelief was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and she shrugged.
”Fine.” She looked over at the goat, smirking a bit and leaning over slightly to stroke its head for a moment. Like she’d told Rhea before, she liked animals quite a bit. She thought they could be much kinder than humans, at times.
Mira, fortunately having quick reflexes, caught the shears in her hands as she straightened herself again.

She followed him to the barn, keeping a good distance between herself and him.
"I'll hold them and you sheer them, I don't think you could hold them by yourself."
Of course, the girl took that the wrong way and narrowed her eyes, gaze hardening to a glare. For now, she said nothing, though. She’d rather not set him off and end up getting hit or something, which she would easily expect because of the events the day before.
She had no idea he was trying to make up for those events—how would she? Obviously, he wasn’t exactly great at socializing with others. Not that she was, either. She was surprised she and Rhea had practically become friends so quickly the day before. It was really shocking, she thought. Usually, she was unable to get close to anyone. She didn’t like to let herself do that. Because it seemed those she got close to died. For example, her father. And then there was one master, who had actually been kind, and although he made her work, he cared about her and hadn’t tried to hurt her like some had. He’d died in an accident of some sort, though. If she lost another person, she had no idea what she’d do.

Mira arched an eyebrow at Democritis as she watched him try to catch one of the sheep.
”Need some help, then?” she asked, setting down the shears. She approached the sheep slowly. For a few moments, it sat still, but backed up, of course. Then, as she got even closer, it darted away. Of course, that was to be expected. She stayed where she was, watching it for a minute, then slowly approached again. It would back up at each step she took. She made a point of making it back up in Democritis’ direction. Grabbing it from behind would be easy for him, s he was sure. And she would have jumped at it herself, but as much as she hated to admit it, just as the man had assumed, she wasn’t strong enough to hold onto it for very long.
[Bleh. It’s a FAIL. =sigh= Once they catch the sheep, maybe a conversation will start. xD]

[alpha]

Throwing his arms around the creature, it complainted loudly and tried to kick Devon, but he kept his arms firmly around it's stomach untill it calmed down.
"I could have gotten by myself." He grumbled, casting a downward look at the ground before mumbling a small "Thanks... I guess." It was apparent that Democritis was much too prideful.

Devon navigated the sheep towards Mira so that she could shear off it's thick wool, one arm wrapped around it's ribs and stomach, the other around it's neck, though not in a fashion that could choke it, just keep it from moving.

((D=))

[Muse]

Mira barely refrained from rolling her eyes, although his response was to be accepted. It was embarrassing to most to be helped like that by a helot. Well, too bad. It was her job to work for the rest of her life, right? It seemed that if she tried to do her job—if you could call it that—, she did something that bothered the person she was helping. It annoyed her.
She watched as he caught the sheep, which was still making little unhappy bleats as Democritis had it move over to her. She started shearing off the thick wool of the creature, secretly grateful that he was willing to lend her a hand. After all, otherwise she would have exhausted herself just trying to catch the animal, and wouldn’t be able to hold onto it when she got to the shearing.

She sat in silence for a long while, working swiftly on the sheep as she sheared. The sooner she was done with this, the better.
When she’d started coughing, she’d hardly had a warning. The coughs were loud and hacking, but dry—luckily. Her lungs and throat hurt, but she couldn’t stop coughing for what felt like a long time. The coughing was making it difficult to breath. Part of her was worried she might actually pass out. It was likely, and had happened before. But the coughing finally subsided. It really hadn’t been as long as it felt.
Thanks to the fit, her lungs and throat ached. No doubt she’d be hoarse when she talked. She resumed shearing the sheep after wiping at the tears on her cheeks. She hadn’t been crying, but her eyes had started watering when she started coughing. It was so irritating.

[=falls over dead=]

[alpha]

Democritis waited patiently, and gazed up when she started hacking, still holding firmly onto the sheep. After the sick coughs subsided he continued to watch her for a moment or two before turning his gaze back to the sheep.

"... Are you okay?" He asked her, realesing the animal now that she was done, getting up off of the dirt floor of the barn to gather another sheep.
"We do have cough medicine you know, if you need it." He told her lazily, gathering up the wool to set off aside untill they were done with all of the sheep. He set off to catch the next, while the other was pracing around, a bit upset but also seemed to enjoy the fact that the heavy wool was off. Stupid sheep. Democritis got lucky and pretty much snatched the next one as quickly as he could, dragging it back to Mira, that was, untill it decided to kick him the shin, at which point he cursed loudly and let go, glaring darkly at the amused animal.
"I hate sheep." He muttered, giving into the instict that maybe if he rubbed his thobbing leg it would feel better, which really didn't work out to well.

((I'm sorry T.T))

((::is shot:

[Muse]

Mira was a little surprised by him asking if she was okay, but she didn’t show it. He was kind enough to worry, or at least polite enough to act concerned—she wasn’t sure.
”I’ll be fine. Medicine doesn’t help me much, anyway,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. She wasn’t going to bother with medicine. Part of her wished that her sickness would just take a turn for the worst and kill her. She hated this life. She wished her mother had chosen to had her killed instead. But, of course, she knew that her mother would rather know that Mira was going to have her pride shattered and work herself to death. It was far worse than simply getting killed by the soldiers, in her mother’s mind. And Mira agreed. Being glared at in public, yelled at, and even on rare occasions attacked—though that didn’t happen much to female helots—was not what she considered very enjoyable.

Mira smirked as she watched Democritis try to catch a sheep. At first, it seemed as if he’d gotten it easily. Of course, when it kicked him, she had to stifle a quiet laugh. Luckily, it was, for the most part, unnoticeable, since Democritis had yelled at the same time she’d laughed.

”I hate sheep.”
Mira shrugged. ”Definitely hurts when they kick you like that. I agree—it sucks.” She’d gotten her share of kicks. It probably hurt most when you were kicked in the stomach. Luckily, that had only happened to her once. Most of the time she was kicked in the shin, as Democritis had been.
Then, almost mockingly, she added, ”Should I help you again?”
Yes, she was trying to annoy him a little bit. Just, not to the point that he got furious with her like he had the day before and threaten to hit her.

[Fail.]

[alpha]

Democritis narrowed his blue eyes at her, his chin jutting out a bit in what could have been considered a pout if he was younger, but since he was oh-so-grown-up there was absolutely no possible way that could ever, ever be considered a pout.

Please note the use of sarcasm.

It took him a moment to answer, as he was being a man and men are incredibly stubborn when it comes to issues like these.
"... Yeah." He said with a deep frown. "But only because you're faster then me." He said, as if he had to justify his reasons for allowing her assistance in the sheep-catching. He gave his throbbing shin-oh, that was DEFINITELY going to bruise in the morning-once last rub before standing up strait.
"If you can catch them and hold onto them long enough for me to grab them, we should be fine that you can shear them." Democritis instructed her, glaring darkly at the sheep in the barn. If looks could kill, Democritis would have a barnful of dead sheep.

Fudge outside of the gate gave a loud bleat and Devon looked over at the brown and white goat. It almost seemed to be laughing at their misfortune with the sheep. Democritis gave that animal and appropriate glare to, but of course, being a goat, it did not respond to the glare and only bleated again.