Lacking Emotion

Chapter 13

Back at the old wooden house a grumpy Granzoul pushed the gate closed, sealing the entrance of the {crib} and blocking the only escape the sheep had left. The gate was crafted out of dead branches, twigs and some rope. Its color ranging from its once gold-brown shine to its now fading gray body, a result due to exposure to direct sunlight for many years.

He awoke this morning due to the continuous chirping of a bird right outside his window, but after slamming the window open and scaring the holy halleluiah out of the pigeon it wasn't a problem anymore. His room looked rather similar when compared to Soma's, except for the fact that it was missing a table.

Making his way back to the house he spotted Charlie in the far distance collecting some herbs for breakfast.

Hearing the screams coming from his feet he decided to take a small break from all the chores. Taking a seat on the grass he leaned back and stared up at the sky. With how everything has been the past few days he hadn't had a break to just relax and blow off some steam. It was a constant worry period. But now he could finally take a breath and clear his mind.

Closing his eyes he took in everything around him. From the sound of the sheep bleat, the smell of dirt and wild flowers, to the soft breeze dancing in both the grass and his nonexistent hair. With the wonderful blue sky above him and the few fluffy clouds that inhabited it, he finally felt at piece.

But of course nothing lasts.

The moment that chicken let out its battle cry Granzoul was already up and running toward the first tree he saw.

"Ouch! What in the burning debts of hell is wrong with you?! Excuse me, that's min-- ouch! I refuse to back down, you foul beast! No, wait, I was just kidding! Someone save me!!" an all to familiar voice called out I distress.

Jumping down from the tree, the midget peeked around the corner of the house. When he had a good understanding of the situation he approached them in a surprisingly relaxed manner, grabbed the man by his ear and dragged him out of the shed after shooing the rooster away. Reaching the kitchen he gently placed the basket he snatched from Charlie's hand earlier on the dark brown table in the middle of the room.

The basket was filled to the brink with eggs, vegetables and a variety of herbs.

"Might not be club, but it'll have to do" Granzoul thought as he picked up a wooden spoon and hit Charlie with it.

The old-timer hands flew up to cover the collision area with a his escaping his lips. He then proceeded to direct all his built up rage towards the back of the small figure and yelled, "What in the bloody blazes of hell are you trying to pull?!". Granzoul just chose to remain silent as he returned the tool to where he first found it. Then after taking a deep breath to calm himself, he turned to face to old man and replied, "I thought you said you know how to farm?".

The old man's face kept on shifting between an expression of shock and disbelief, unsure of which to display.

"What kind of question is this? Of course I know how to farm. It's just been a while since I last did so I'm quite rusty, but I'm sure being out in the field farming will cause it all to come back to me!" he replied with a small uncertain smile on his lips. It is true that he hadn't been farming for years after moving to the city, he had to give it up in order to acquire a job.

"Though it is true what you say, you are still a cluts and we still need to prepare dinner before the Master and your aunt returns" the goblin voiced as he moved to grab the basket on the table. Placing the contents on a cloth, he moved a wooden bowl half filled with water and began to wash the dirt off them.

Looking behind him after being tapped on the shoulder twice, his eyes caught sight of Charlie's hand holding out a dagger for him to use. A brief moment passed before the goblin took it and directed his gaze back to the task at hand, "I see you are indeed clueless about farming but the same does not go for cooking".

The man chuckled, "What do you take me for? A helpless infant? I might not remember how to farm but I sure as hell know how to prepare a meal".

They began to work together on preparing a meal, Granzoul rinsing and drying the ingredients while Charlie started cutting the latter into small bite sized bits and tossing them onto a black pot.

After several minutes of constant teamwork they poured a mixture of herbs, a pinch of salt and water into the stew.

Taking a seat near the wooden table which marked the center of room, they sat there in a comfortable silence as thoughts filled their minds. There were a bit of worry mixed into their facial expressions, though for different reasons.

On one hand Granzoul was worried about how little the you master really knew about this world, heck the poor child didn't even know where on the planet he was, he felt bad for not even explaining such a simple thing to him. While Charlie one the other hand was more worried about when he'll be able to eat.

After a few more minutes of Charlie trying to hide his stomach growls, one of them stood up to throw another piece of wood on the fire, breaking the silence in the process, "It would seem that we are running quite low on fire wood".

The other slowly got up with a sigh and moved to the old creaky door. Right outside on the left side of the entrance laid a stack of wood from a dead tree that has been cut down the previous night.

Grabbing as much as his short arms could, he carried them back and placed them on the spot where the stack before lay.

"That old hag better remember to get the milk, I swear she is so forgetful it's insulting" the goblin mumbled.

"And why the hell did I have to stay behind and leave the Master alone with that mad woman?!" He directed his gaze toward old man who's basically drooling as he stirred the stew. The man simply looked at him with a look that says it all.

"Oh please, don't act as if you are not aware of your nagging and childish behavior. To be honest I'm surprised the boy was able to turn out such a fine young man with you following him around all day like a love sick mutt".

"I beg your pardon, I don't seem to recall asking your opinion but the reason behind it!" the midget pouted like a child.

The old man sighed with a hint of tiredness lingering afterwards, "The boy needs a break, Granzoul. He appreciates you but he's youth, he needs his space to grow. A sapling can be bent and supported but only to a certain point, from there on out it has to sprout its own roots".

Directing his soft gaze back to the fire he continued, "If you constantly provide it with water it won't need to grow strong roots since it has no reason to do so. When the storm comes it would be ripped from the ground without mercy. But if you give it just enough to survive, it'll have no other choice but to reach deeper down with its roots. So when the storm comes, it won't need mercy because it has grown strong and learned to survive on its own"