LeenuKeath's stuff

The old rabbit plush had been spared ironically by ending up in an old pot over the chimney, singed but still salvageable. The question now was if its owner was still around to lay claim to it. Tardif sighed, there was little chance a child could survive a house burning, and even if they had escaped these woods were too dangerous for anyone without strong survival instincts and knowledge, whoever this toy belonged to, they were probably gone by now.

He should have thrown the thing away and gone back on his way but something stilled his hand, instead coaxing him to shove the sad burnt thing in his knapsack and take it with him. He figured maybe he would find a child who would want it later. A few days later when resting at an inn, he pulled it out again, examining the burn spots and pulling out his sewing kit. One of his old shirts that was too ragged to be used was cleanly cut to patch up the various holes making it look somewhat less miserable. A thorough wash in the bassin with some soap rinced away the soot and dark patches, leaving a somewhat less grimy looking but still lovingly used bunny. He hated to admit it but he was starting to get attached to it.

~

It never left his knapsack, Tardif would never be able to live with the shame of being caught with a plush toy in his possession but the rabbit in his bag had become a somewhat soothing presence in his life, a thing to hold and let witness his less dignified moments of weakness. For a lone fighter like him, the presence was welcome, even if it was only with eyes of threads.

~

It was in that damned estate that he thought he was finally going to break. His will thrown against the walls of horrors they were constantly being submitted to alongside the threat of death made the facade of strength harder to keep up with each day. His secret possession in his bag beneath his bunk felt more and more important to anchor himself to this reality.

Then one day Missandei mentionned the forest she used to live in, and the fire. When asked about it, she spoke about how she had to run away when she was barely eight, holding her father's crossbow that she had had to trade for her dear rabbit… He knew he had found her, that he should give her what was rightfully hers back, but it tore his heart as well. His precious companion taken away from him, who would he allow to see his tears now?

Yet the thought of a child forced to grow into a killer much too fast, faster than even he had to made him reconsider. And the next day he brought her a box containing their little treasure of fabric and stuffing. "You made her a little outfit?!" exclaimed Missandei when she picked it up, examining the cautiously sewn together pullover on the plush rabbit. Tardif nervously rubbed the back of his neck: "Well it was such a sad thing when I found it… figured I'd make it less miserable."