For a moment, he almost felt at peace. Here, with his student, just having a simple conversation. The moment was short, however. They always were. He had to forever remind himself that, while friend and Master to the monkey, his guard should always be up. Whether for surprise attacks, or shingles about to fall on his head. He scuttled away from the falling debris, shielding his face instinctually against the clatter. When he peaked out from behind his arm, and found a nonplussed Wukong there having done whatever feats he’d chosen to do. There was no amazement in Yi’s expression, only the thin line that were his lips.
“Pupil.” He growled, before choosing to abandon any reprimands with a sigh. He hoped his prolonged stare was enough to carry his distaste. Cleansing any frustrations from himself, he looked around the abandoned place with lenses purring. Though devoid of any people, this place was at least comfortably normal. He couldn’t the same for home. Perhaps that’s what attracted him here? The reminder of what was lost, but also a reminder of what could be.
“… The spirits are indeed quiet.” Yi replied, though with less cheer than his student. His connection to such things was wildly different to the Vastaya, so he couldn’t judge it all in the same way. Turning his attention away from sights beyond, he set his sights on anywhere fit to build a fire. The last thing he wanted to do was burn down the place for no reason. A courtyard would have been nice, if this dojo had one, “But such are their ways. In any event, if framing chores as challenges motivates you, pupil, then I have no means to stop you. Collect the most wood. Catch the biggest fish. A meal of fish would be nice, or some time spent just to cast a line.”
His stomach panged at the mention of food. Yi didn’t deliberately starve himself. There just never seemed to be enough time in the day, “I would certainly challenge you to this, so long as we did not fish more than is needed.” The man offered a laugh, “You would surely win just on feats of strength alone, but I would try my best.”
Excitable as he was, Yi was always there to rein him in and temper his energy. He noticed the thinned lips and long stare which causes the perky simian to dramatically gasp, though the trickster in him couldn’t help but smile. A helpless response to the sharp look, brushing it off like water off a Lhotlan’s feathers.
Within the old establishment, overgrown with wild, curling vines threaded through like multiple strings through the head of a needle, there would be a small area just beyond the ledge of a rooftop that contained what use to be a hearth. The ash was old, and embedded in the fire pit with iron tools and a chain holding a pot, showing signs of age and rust. Above it was a small vent to allow for smoke to travel out. Though given how exposed it was, it likely didn’t offer much the open side of the building didn’t.
Wukong was quick to point it out with excitement before the Vastaya plucked a few hairs free of his noggin and blew on them to create several clones. The group all bowed to Yi, and dashed off to hunt for wood.
Meanwhile, the real Wukong, always impressed with his own clever methods, would turn to Yi with arms folded and a huge smile. “Cast a line?” he questioned, brows furrowing with thought, “I was going to spear them, Master! A big fish would need Ruyi Jingu Bang to catch it!” Another cheerful snicker follows, “But if you want to throw lines and catch smaller fish, we can do that too!”
Of course he felt confident he could catch even bigger fish than Master Yi, but despite this he still had incredible respect for his Master.
