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mini_nanowrimo -- Turnspit gets new clothes, with hints about how aughisky culture isn't gendered, it is ranked.
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"Now, drop your leggings."
"Lurcher!"
"What?" You'll still have your shirt."
Turnspit glared at her, but the other Dog merely stared back at him. She held the length of new brown wool over he crossed arms, and tapped her foot.
It would have been easy if they weren't under the colonnade that opened onto the courtyard. The rain was keeping most people inside under shelter, but some few had crossed the courtyard recently. And they watched.
Not to mention, Iros was lounging on the fountain. His aughisky was completely unbothered to the rain coming down. Instead, Iros was positive luxuriating in it; the rain plastered his clothing to his skin, yet his eyes were merry.
Turnspit sighed. Could Lurcher have not founded someplace else for this? My room, for instance. Not that he would have been comfortable with Lurcher coming to the snug room above the stables that he shared with Iros. It wasn't proper, no matter that no one agreed with him on that. At least when he was sleeping in the Dog Longhouse in her village, he'd slept out by the hearth after Iros was gone and before her husband had returned; she wasn't actually his kin, after all.
Lurcher forced a cough, and tapped her foot again.
Turnspit resigned himself to her aid, and reached down to unbelt the leggings. Could she not just give me the shirt and be done with it? he wondered as he peeled off the doeskin garments, and folded them. Since they'd been a gift from the Speaker's wife, and he liked them, he didn't want to surrender them to Lurcher, but he did.
"Satisfied?" he asked, and folded his arms, mimicking her.
"I've seen you in your shirt before, Turnspit." Her eyes surveyed him briskly, "You're too bony for my tastes."
"I'm not bony!"
"Whatever you say." She shook out the brown wool, and began to drape it around him. "Pay attention now; this is a bit tricky." Lurcher said as she tucked and belted it into a kilt.
Turnspit tolerated it, but didn't like it. The kilt seemed entirely too much like some woman's garment, with its draping and folding. He was a man and should wear a man's clothes.
Of course, that was the problem. He was a Dog, and his aughisky wanted him to wear Dog's clothes, not a villager's outfit, and Dogs wore kilts. It wouldn't have been so awful if Iros had the same, but Iros had given him an incredulous look and stated that aughisky weren't Dogs and didn't dress like them.
next
mini_nanowrimo -- Turnspit gets new clothes, with hints about how aughisky culture isn't gendered, it is ranked.previous
"Now, drop your leggings."
"Lurcher!"
"What?" You'll still have your shirt."
Turnspit glared at her, but the other Dog merely stared back at him. She held the length of new brown wool over he crossed arms, and tapped her foot.
It would have been easy if they weren't under the colonnade that opened onto the courtyard. The rain was keeping most people inside under shelter, but some few had crossed the courtyard recently. And they watched.
Not to mention, Iros was lounging on the fountain. His aughisky was completely unbothered to the rain coming down. Instead, Iros was positive luxuriating in it; the rain plastered his clothing to his skin, yet his eyes were merry.
Turnspit sighed. Could Lurcher have not founded someplace else for this? My room, for instance. Not that he would have been comfortable with Lurcher coming to the snug room above the stables that he shared with Iros. It wasn't proper, no matter that no one agreed with him on that. At least when he was sleeping in the Dog Longhouse in her village, he'd slept out by the hearth after Iros was gone and before her husband had returned; she wasn't actually his kin, after all.
Lurcher forced a cough, and tapped her foot again.
Turnspit resigned himself to her aid, and reached down to unbelt the leggings. Could she not just give me the shirt and be done with it? he wondered as he peeled off the doeskin garments, and folded them. Since they'd been a gift from the Speaker's wife, and he liked them, he didn't want to surrender them to Lurcher, but he did.
"Satisfied?" he asked, and folded his arms, mimicking her.
"I've seen you in your shirt before, Turnspit." Her eyes surveyed him briskly, "You're too bony for my tastes."
"I'm not bony!"
"Whatever you say." She shook out the brown wool, and began to drape it around him. "Pay attention now; this is a bit tricky." Lurcher said as she tucked and belted it into a kilt.
Turnspit tolerated it, but didn't like it. The kilt seemed entirely too much like some woman's garment, with its draping and folding. He was a man and should wear a man's clothes.
Of course, that was the problem. He was a Dog, and his aughisky wanted him to wear Dog's clothes, not a villager's outfit, and Dogs wore kilts. It wouldn't have been so awful if Iros had the same, but Iros had given him an incredulous look and stated that aughisky weren't Dogs and didn't dress like them.
next
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Some Dogs do have standing permission to 'frolic', but Turnspit isn't the sort. He's rather stuffy, compared to Iros.
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