“Before we go, I want to teach you how to use the crossbow.” Gole announces to Trouse as they walk through the streets the morning after the feast.
The day is warm and is the perfect day to travel. A cool breeze dances around the streets and alleys of the rem town. The town is still quiet even though it is mid-morning, with the sun steadily climbing in the sky, but the rem are still asleep from the excitement the night before. Scattered throughout the alleyways are sleeping rem children without homes, and Trouse must be careful where he steps to avoid disturbing any.
“I thought you only knew how to use a bow and arrow.” Trouse whispers as the two skirt around a pile of sleeping children, and Gole scoffs,
“Pink Lance doesn’t need to know what I can and can’t use.”
“Where are you going to get a crossbow from? I doubt there are any here.”
“Of course there are- from the Alterna-Rem war that occurred four-hundred and forty-seven years ago,” Gole proclaims grandly, startling awake a small rem child, who scampers off when he peers up at the large feline, and Trouse scrunches up his nose,
“That’s a long time ago. It’s like…” Trouse trails off as he attempts to calculate the number of sunhighs that would be, but a calm voice does so for him.
“Thirty-six and a half sunhighs for a year. Sixteen thousand, three hundred fifteen and a half sunhighs for four-hundred and forty-seven years.”
Gole and Trouse jump in surprise. Then they turn to see Seehea leaning against the outside wall of a brick house, and Gole bares her teeth,
“How long have you been eavesdropping on us?”
“Long enough,” Seehea says flatly, displaying a new pair of fuzzy yellow shoes that completely silence his steps, and Trouse tilts his head to the side, studying them silently.
“What do you want?” Gole snaps, clearly enraged at someone being able to sneak up on her, and Seehea smiles slightly,
“Well, I was just trying to practice English and learn words by listening to you two speak, but I would like to request that you do not do something as foolish as to use four-hundred- forty-seven-year-old crossbows.”
“What do you suggest then? Leave Trouse defenseless without a weapon?” Gole growls, clearly irritated, and Trouse puckers his lips.
“I can use a bow and arrow,” he reminds the fuming feline, and Gole shakes her head,
“You can almost hit a target. If a trapen charged you, you’d maybe hit it a foot away,” she replies, and Seehea raises a hand to silence the two.
“I will make you one crossbow. Whoever uses it is up to you two to decide.”