Blaze shrugs again.
“Doesn’t matter.” she said, throwing the sticks that she had collected in the centre of the improvised camp. “Help me make the fire.”
The improvised camp was right on the edge of the mountain, making it pretty small and narrow. On the other side of the ravene there was another, much taller mountain. Except for the light provided by the moon and the stars, everything was dark. The powerful wind of the mountain was hitting their faces like a barrage of knifes. Except for the spot where Streke was, which was the furthest of the edge of the ravene, the members of the group would have to be placed pretty much in a line, to be sure that none fell into the pit.
Dakron listened intently, doodling mindlessly in the dirt.
Rena stood down in front of Dakron and started arranging a handful of small rocks into a small circle, before starting to arrange the sticks found by Blaze and her into a specific patern.
Dakron paused, wondering what Rena was doing exactly. He tilted his head slightly, listening.
Rena saw this and looked at him for a couple of moments, before turning back to her sticks.
“I’m making the fire.” she said after a few seconds of silence.
Dakron nodded in understanding. He returned to doodling.
If Rena were to examine the doodles closely, they would resemble the story that Blaze was telling.
Rena frowned as she saw the drawings with the corner of her eye.
“How can you draw if you are blind?” she wondered aloud.
He began signing a complex explanation, then stopped. He began writing with his finger in the dirt. It read, “I don’t really know. It’s mostly just a skill I developed. I can ‘see’ the images in my head, and recreate them in the ground. It helps if I can feel the lines that I’ve drawn, that way I can make it look better and more accurate.”
There was not too much dirt at that hight, but just enough for Rena to understand.
“You were… Born like this?”
The night was cold.
Frog had one foreleg placed on the neck of an unfortunate bird as he used his teeth to dig into its spine and rip it off, crunching and sucking at it until it was just bone. He coughed up the skull and listened it bounce across the rocks and land far below.
Ditching the rest of the bird, Frog retreated back into his den to attempt to sleep and await the next day.
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“Born blind, yes. I got muted in an accident.” He wrote.
“Then… How do you know our alphabet?”
“I listened, and my parents traced the shapes of the letters on my palm and guided my hand until I memorized the shapes.” Dakron wrote, after making room in the dirt.
“Yeah but… Why didn’t they thought you the specific alphabet for the blind people? It is much easier for you.”
OOC: I presume braile exists here.
“They also taught me that.” Dakron wrote. “And sign language… but so few people know the two that I just end up using the standard alphabet anyways.”
“Aha…” she said, clicking her tongue.
Dakron nodded. He wiped away the writing and left the drawing, before bringing out his scythe. He began to clean and sharpen it, slowly and carefully.
Dax settles down and Capella goes to gather extra firewood for the night.
Blaze tends to the fire quietly.