What it Means to Persevere

Experiment

The weather started to warm, but Kazar was still stuck inside for the time being. Which meant Wingdings was still more or less supporting them and practicing his magic since he had the time. He had to make himself some new shoes so his feet wouldn't get mucky from the melting snow. He was a growing boy so making his own shoes happened quite often. He'd seen that the people were starting to prepare for the market again, the early blooming plants starting to flower. That was a good thing. Finally something other than lightly salted meat. Wingdings had to get more of a variety of seasonings too, seriously. Wingdings decided to check the market for the hundredth time since the cold season started, grabbing the money pouch and heading out while Kazar was still asleep. He kept the pouch close, knowing well how desperate starving beggars could be. He probably would help them if they had the money too, but with Kazar not working the entire season and Wingdings still too young to work, they didn't have. It didn't take him long to make it there, a meager twenty minute walk was all. He entered the shop, giving the shop keep a quiet good morning as he went over to the shelves.

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Wingdings frowned at the lack of spices once more. He loved the winter season, but he despised the lack of everything that came with it. Wingdings grumbled quietly as he felt someone tap his shoulder. He looked back to see... a Skeleton, much like himself. His sockets widened in surprise as he stared at her with surprise. Wingdings could tell that she was old, very old, with faded magical red hair that made her skull visible. She wore robes dark blue in color with red lining the inside of her robes. Her mandible moved, clearly trying to communicate with him, but he didn't understand. There was no lips to read.. "I-I apologize, ma'am, but I cannot understand you. I am deaf you see and I cannot read your expression." He explained, rubbing his vertebrae. He hated social interaction. It made him feel awkward. The woman paused and sighed before holding out a piece of paper to him. He took it, reading the... numbers. It was just numbers. When he looked up, she was walking out the door. "W-Wait! Wait!"

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He'd lost her to the crowds. She was gone, leaving him with this scrap of paper and his- where was the pouch?! "No!" Crap, crap, crap! He'd been so distracted that he lost the G and now he had nothing! Nothing but a stupid piece of paper anyway. Wingdings whined. Kazar would be so mad at him... Wingdings clenched his fists. He didn't know where it was, yes, but he could do many things! He had many talents thanks to Kazar. He could work! He could... but he would need to find a way to communicate with others who didn't have lips so that they could communicate. He started walking home, trying to shove his disappointment away in favor of thinking of other means of communication. It hit him when he ran a hand down his face. His sockets shot open, as he stared at his hands. What... what if he could make an alphabet with his hands and teach it to others..? What if he could make his own sign language?! Wingdings felt excited as started running back home. The faster he made and learned this language, the faster he could start communicating with EVERY ONE! Maybe he would begin to like interacting?

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Kazar looked at Wingdings when he came in. "Where were you?" He asked from his spot by the stove. "Market, I was looking for spices. I met... someone... I couldn't talk too. They didn't have any lips for me to read. So I'm going to remedy the situation." Kazar pricked his rounded purple ears. "How?" Wingdings grabbed out some ink, a quil, and some paper. "I'm going to make my own language." Wingdings replied as he got to thinking of ways to go about it. He watched his hands form multiple different shapes and decided that, each shape could be a letter. Every letter making a word, every word making a sentence! He paused. What about punctuation though? Wingdings supposed he would have to make shapes for those too. It seemed this process was going to be a bit more complicated than he originally thought. Wingdings smiled. He could take that challenge. He would make this language.

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Kazar watched Wingdings progress, twitching his fingers as if trying to recall the symbols he was writing on paper. The Tiger had to say, he was quite the intelligent young monster. Wingdings was a stubborn one, staying up in the late hours of the night til his candle burned out and waking in the early hours of the morning to take care of them both. Yet the boy never seemed to be tired. Kazar didn't know his secret, but he almost felt jealous of Wingdings intelligence. Wingdings reminded him of a human in many ways. The way he seemed to persist despite his flaws. He was the definition of a survivor. What was the word he was looking for again? "Ah." He recalled. "That soul trait would be perseverance. Yes... Wingdings fits that most well." Kazar decided. The Tiger sighed, turning back to his nearly finished book on human studies while he waited for Wingdings to come back from whatever he'd gone to do.