Bird of a Nest (bow 3)

Chapter 38

A/N: Warnings for blood, and hints of self-harm. Tread carefully.

Fetmar rested on a bench next to where Nel'os was pacing angrily, not knowing what to say to the man but not feeling right to leave him alone. Herymi was to the side, chatting to a guard who had followed them outside too. Nel'os kicked a rock into a fountain and frowned as it sunk.

"If you want to skip them, you have to throw them," Fetmar noted.

"I know," Nel'os shot back, his teeth gritted and voice tight. "I'm not stupid."

"You look more like you need to go to the training ring more than here," Fetmar observed, trying not to take offence from that. Nel'os has his fists clenched and his feathers puffed out in a threating manner. If this was back in the war, Fetmar would be trying to sneak past him to avoid dealing with a k'nairi in such a bad mood. If this was Dyn'ad, Fetmar knew he would be able to help deal with the bad mood by a spar. Nel'os was more on the fence, but he was a warrior like his mates.

"Can't." Nel'os gave no immediate explanation, but Nel'os did pick up the next stone. He skimmed it across the fountain and nodded determinedly. "I'm not." His shoulders slumped. "I'm not warrior enough to be allowed to go to burn off stream unless one of the others are there."

"Who made that rule?" Fetmar snorted. "You're one of the elite warriors in the war. You are warrior enough to need a punching bag when your anger is simmering."

"My anger is not simmering," The next stone broke a statue nearby rather than skimmed across the water. "Much," the word fell out of Nel'os reluctantly. "I'm the noble one. I shouldn't have to fall to my base instincts to deal with anger. I should be more," he waved his arms, his wings copying the motion as he struggled to find the word in human. Several k'nairi ones came, but Fetmar didn't understand them. "refined, I guess," he finally decided.

"So throwing stones at statues is more refined?" Fetmar lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh, piss off," Nel'os growled, his feather's flaring again and talons extending further than usual. "You don't get to tell me anything. You're a common grounder, what would you know about being refined?"

"Should I assume that in k'nairi is more insulting than the translated version?" Fetmar asked Herymi who had come up beside him. Herymi's hand was on his dagger. Apparently, Nel'os was starting to show signs of being a danger to them. Herymi gave a half shrug in confirmation. Fetmar pulled his leg up, resting his chin on his knee as he watched the Royal flit about the small clearing.

Nel'os scowled and threw another rock, this one skimming across the fountain and then into the cracked statue. The rock crumbled away, and the face became unrecognizable.

"Nice shot."

"Do you have to speak?" Nel'os demanded, "It's very annoying."

"I mean," Fetmar shrugged. "In general, talking is good for this kind of thing. My brothers and I tend to be rather vocal with what is displeasing us. Oira and Eyeri are quieter, but when they speak, it tends to be with knives. Pol'ar is still looking at Eyeri from time to time like he suspicious at where his anger the other day came from. What is Aw'endo like?"