Fishing for Family Feuds

[Vega]

26th Saun, 717

"Ok, so Pappa you know. That's good," they were walking to the boat where her family lived and Vega had a frown on her face as she tried to explain to him what the rest of them were like. "Then there's my cousins. Huw. He's the oldest boy an' he's as brash an' brazen as they come. Bossy, too." Vega's expression spoke a lot about how she felt about Huw. "I grew up listenin' to 'im tell me what to do an' when." Vega couldn't help but give a slight grin though. "He's also the one who'll thump first, ask questions not at all. Got a temper, 'e does. Then there's the twins. They're ten arcs younger'n Huw. Reese an' Shon. Reese is a misery an' they won't one o'them like you cos you're not biqaj. It's al'righ' yer in good comp'ny, Reese don't like me cos I'm not a full biqaj. Shon is much the same. Thinks it dilutes the family line or some schnitzel." Vega shrugged slightly and seemed remarkably unconcerned about the complete lack of acceptance. She wasn't, of course, but she'd lived with it a long enough time that she had pretending not to care down to a fine art. Vega would, these trials, be the first to admit that she had not made things easier on herself during her childhood, but her cousins really hadn't helped either.

"Bottom line, though, is that it's my Pappa's ship an' they're there on it. I'm 'is daughter and they can like it or bog off." That was new, the confidence with which she said that. It was entirely possible that her and her father had spoken, or maybe time had changed her. "An' your my friend, so they'll be polite. B'sides, Reese's gonna show us some carpentry stuff an' Pappa's gonna teach us 'ow to make arrows." Please U'frek, Vega prayed, let the storms stay away this trial. Not from the weather, but the men aboard the craft.

The weather, of course, was ridiculously hot. Vega was therefore in a pair of shorts and a cropped vest top with her hair pulled back from her head. Sandals on her feet and she still felt like she might pass out at any moment. "They're all taller than me. But tha'ssalright cos these trials I'm stronger than 'em an' better with a sword, too. An' at punching." She'd been more than happy to demonstrate, she said and she'd won a practice match with each of them. So, that was good. They'd better not try and pick on him, Vega thought to herself and her hands curled into fists at the notion. If they did, then she was going to thump them into Ashan, no doubt about it.

"I guess we get a bit physical, too. Like, fightin' and stuff. Don't pay it no heed, it's jus' our way. There she is!" The boat, called the Wayward Dreamer was a beautiful vessel. Not huge, not by a long shot, but well cared for and loved. On the deck was a biqaj male, tall and maybe the same age as Vega. Long dark hair and tanned skin were obvious on first glance. He was wearing a pair of shorts and his hair was held back. Looking at Vega his gaze turned to Arlo and his eyes shifted colour as she took Arlo's hand and trotted up the lowered plank which was there for them.

"Eva," he said and the man who walked out to greet them was indeed taller than Vega by a good couple of inches. "You came. I thought you might not."

Vega beamed at him, all sass and defiance; she turned into an unruly child as though on demand. "An' miss the chance to show you off to my friend? Would I? Reese, this is Arlo, Arlo, this is Reese. He's my cousin."

Reese turned dark blue eyes to Arlo, his irises swirling like the sea at midnight as he took in the young follower of Cassion. This close, it was obvious that the biqaj had been in a lot of fights, judging by the scarring. "So, you are the one that Eva is running around after?" Vega rolled her eyes and thumped her cousin on the shoulder. Hard.
"No, you divut, he's my friend. If you ever 'ad one, you'd understand. Where's Pappa?" Reese gave the briefest of smiles to her at her colourful language, but his expression was far from welcoming.
"He's getting together the equipment. He's asked me t'show you some basic woodworkin' before he goes to fletching. Come with me." Reese glanced at Arlo and managed a small smile but no more. "This way."

[Arlo Creede]

"You know I've been thinking lately," Arlo had said to Vega once they'd shared a morning meal and were just leaving camp to head for the harbor. "That's what they teach us to do over at the university. Think a lot," he teased her as they walked. "I'm thinking I know why your people grow so tall." The Biqaj half of her, he meant. "It's not just because U'frek made them that way. It's because he made them to be seafaring folk. Too many people on board. Not enough room to grow out. There's only up, like trees in a crowded forest."

It was an unnatural hot in Saun and Arlo had dressed appropriately. Old lightweight trousers that had come up too short at the ankles were perfect for cropping off just below the knees. Old shirts could do with the sleeves torn off and while his ever-present hat sat squarely on his head, he'd traded his leather boots for sandals. He was still hot, but it was a slightly more tolerable heat. The more she told him about her family though, the deeper he fell into a contemplative silence. Until eventually he snorted, shook his head and lightly bumped her shoulder. "Aelig's balls Vega. You make me glad I didn't have any siblings, or any cousins either to speak of."

In truth, maybe he wondered what it might've been like if he'd had a brother, a sister, even a distant cousin that he knew about. But it was hard to miss what he'd never known anyway. She cared though, Arlo thought, even if she pretended not to. "They can like me or not like me, whichever they'd rather. I'd rather it was for something I do or say, than because I'm not Biqaj." Still, he grinned a little and added, "I've told you before haven't I? Men don't like it when a lady tells them she's stronger than them." Even if she was, he maintained. It just wasn't something a fellow liked to hear.

There was one cousin there to meet them, and when Vega took his hand to climb on board, those shifting eyes were speaking volumes. He'd developed a knack for reading Vega's expressions and shifts. Close enough, he figured. She must have inherited the trait in it's entirety. But that one. Reese. He was the miserable one, Arlo reminded himself and thrust out his hand. Disagreeable too. Or at least the multitude of scars suggested he was. "Name's Arlo. Vega's told me a lot about you. Well met." As for the implications behind the questions, he'd opt out and let Vega handle that one.

A smile though. A slight one. Still it was something, and Arlo smiled slightly in return and followed along. If it was woodworking, carpentry, it wouldn't hurt Arlo at all to learn a little. He'd been thinking he might want to build some small planting boxes for herbs, to hang off the side of Peg's cart. Or maybe a larger one to store perishable foods in, and keep cool with one of those strange snowflakes that never melted. He'd told Vega as much, after he'd decided to accompany her to the boat. Though it was possible she hadn't believed him, regarding the ice that remained just that on even the hottest of trials.

[Vega]

U'frek made her people grow up not out because of the way that ships worked? Vega shook her head at him as he came up with that particular little snippet of wisdom and wondered, drily, "Just 'ow much are you payin' for that university, Arlo? Not too much, I 'ope." Trees in a forest? Vega considered it and then shrugged slightly. "I guess I got the Biqaj height, yeah. They're a tall bunch. " Motioning to him, though, she pointed out the obvious. "You're as tall as me, these trials at least. An' there's no Biqaj blood in you, I've seen it. Not a trace of silver in there."

When he bumped her shoulder, though and told her he was glad he had no siblings Vega simultaneously grinned and gently cuffed him round the ear. "You're too young to be swearin' like that. It's not grown up soundin', you know." That she often used the same phrase was completely irrelevant to the contrary mixed race woman. She made no comment about his consideration of family, hers specifically. Her eyes, though, told that she was much more concerned about him meeting her cousins than she was letting on.

His preference for him being liked, or not, by his actions caused her to nod, but Vega said nothing about it. Would they take him on face value as an individual? She suspected not, judging by her childhood, but when he pointed out what he'd already told her before about showing off her strength, Vega beamed. "Yeah, an' I've told you. It isn't that they, or you come to that, don't like me sayin' it. What you boys aren't 'appy about is that it's true. Life's tough, innit?" Then she gave him a companionable thump on the shoulder. "An' I've also told you, Arlo Creede, I'm not a lady."

In fairness, if nothing else happened from this meeting, Arlo would know that she didn't punch him hard. When she repeated the movement with Reese some moments later, after he'd made a snide comment about her relationship with Arlo she hit her cousin hard. There was a resounding thump, but Reese just gave her a glance as though to check if a fly had buzzed around him. Vega contented herself with a grin and a glance at where she'd hit him. "We both know there'll be a bruise there tomorrow. From a girl." A brief flash of annoyance crossed Reese's face, but he hid it well and quickly. Vega saw it and paid it not a jot of heed.

When Arlo returned his greeting, Reese said nothing but led them over to the prow of the ship. Vega raised an eyebrow and her eyes swirled a mix of silver and yellow. "It's a good job you don't get sea-sick, Arlo. This is the worst place for it. Let us know, aye, if you get uncomfortable?" Reese, however, simply looked at Arlo. "My apologies," he said, "It doesn't occur to me to consider such." Vega didn't respond, simply looked down at what Reese had laid out, ready for them.

Reese motioned for them to sit and he did the same, folding his legs beneath himself and taking three pieces of wood. One for each of them. "Things you need to know. There are types of wood. Hard wood, soft wood. But whatever kind of wood it is, it has a grain. Here." He traced his finger down the grain of the wood he was holding. "So, when you work with the wood, you need to go with the grain. Going against it looks bad and feels bad to the touch." He handed the piece of wood he had to Arlo, then motioned for him to pass it to Vega. He showed them where there was one side of the plank which was sanded and worked with the grain, one which was worked against. It was, in fairness, obvious.

"First things first. Tools. This," he said and gestured, letting them have a look at what he was showing them. "This is a carpenter's kit. Let's work through each of these." And that was what he did. Sanding blocks, rasps and chisels, saws and hammers, they were all there and Reese went through each one individually, demonstrating what it was that the tool itself did. In fairness to him, he was patient and thorough. When they weren't busy trying to irritate each other, he and Vega got on well and there were a few examples of very similar grins turning to each other. Still, there was always that which sat between them and, even without realising it, Reese reminded her more than once that she was not a full blooded biqaj. She, conversely, did her best to wind him up where she could.

"So, Arlo," Reese said, very obviously speaking to Arlo, not Vega. "Uncle tells me that you are at the university here? What does a scholar want to learn woodworking for?" He seemed entirely serious when he asked his next question. "Are you trying to impress a girl?" Vega lifted her eyebrow and looked at Arlo in some surprise. Was he? He'd said about building this and that on the cart, having a cool box. All things that he'd learned from this woman he'd met, much the same age as him by all accounts. Two pairs of curious eyes looked at him, Vega's swirling four or five different colours, Reese's lightening to a pale blue almost crystalline in its colour.

[Arlo Creede]

Some people were just lucky, was all, Arlo had responded when Vega pointed out his stature, coupled with his lack of Biqaj blood. "Right. I'm not a walking nightlight, A beacon in the dark of night. It's better that it's only one of us," he'd shot back. And no matter that she said she wasn't a lady...Manners and attitudes were all well and good, but she had enough curves in all the right places to make lie of it. They might be just friends. But he was nearly eighteen, his blood was as red as any other human male's, and more importantly he wasn't blind.

Nevertheless, if she was going to be punching anyone, better it was her cousin than him. Arlo wasn't quite sure where she hid it, but there was more force behind the gesture than there ought to be. But it was no trouble, the young traveler told them both when they worried about seasickness...or seemed to worry. "If it was ever the case, I've spent enough time on the ocean by now to have gotten over it." He hadn't come to like long voyages any more than he ever had. But at the least he found them more tolerable.

Carpentry though was a skill worth knowing in Arlo's opinion. A cooling box would be useful. So would traveling planting boxes. But the little things, like his cart trowing an axle or the like. It had happened before and his solutions had been temporary ones, considering he knew next to nothing about proper wood crafting. It was all well and good to be able to sling a hammer and drive a nail. But it wasn't enough when you were out in the middle of nowhere, and not a craftsman in sight. So sanding blocks, saws, chisels, rasps. He knew the names of many of them already on sight, but had never actually used one. Maybe he should have tried to be more helpful to his step-father, back on the farm.

With the grain, not against it. Arlo nodded as he took the piece of wood he was handed, turned it over and saw what was plainly there. Maybe he ought to pick up a carpenter's kit for himself, he thought. Something for him and Vega to share. When Reese asked him about the university though, he frowned a little and considered it. He suspected there was a pitfall in there somewhere. Nonetheless he shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm a scholar. Unless it's a road one, of sorts," Arlo countered. "I follow an immortal, it seems like a good idea to learn more about him and his kin. Besides, woodworking is a useful skill."

But ah, there it was. The pitfall in the next question. But it was a confusing one. Trying to impress a girl? What girl? Vega? Or another one? What other one? It was a trick question, Arlo was sure. One with no right answer. But as usual, he saw no reason to be anything but honest. "Not really. But I guess you could look at it that way if impressing means us, me and Vega, not being stuck on the road in the middle of nowhere with a busted axle. Or in the case of a keeping box, not feeding my traveling companion spoiled milk or rancid meat just three trials in," he added with a grin.

[Vega]

When Arlo said that he didn't get seasick, Reese smiled and said nothing. Vega's lips were pursed together to the point of almost disappearing, but she said nothing right then. Later, she would tell Arlo that Reese had done that purposely, assuming that she was still seasick. It was the kind of thing she was used to, the quiet and subtle reminders and digs but she still didn't like it. Not one bit. But in a feat of almost legendary discipline (for her), she kept quiet about it. She didn't want to argue in front of Arlo and, as her father told her, any argument took two people. So, she was opting out.

Which left her concentrating on the tools and the lesson. Vega examined the tools as he named them and lifted up the sanding block with a raised eyebrow. "Why's this go from really big to small sand, Reese?" Her cousin took it from her and gently took her hand, getting her to feel it.
"You start," he explained, "with the most coarse one for your job and then sand it finer and finer. That gets it sanded to a shine, then." Vega nodded, a frown of concentration on her face.

When Reese called Arlo a scholar, Vega's eyebrow rose slightly. Not in a mocking way, which might be her usual if it were just her and Arlo, but in some surprise at how positive Reese was. Not that being a scholar was high on the list of priorities of any of her family, as far as she knew, there was a certain reverence to how Reese spoke which made sense. They might not be scholars, but they understood that being so was tough. Arlo's response was as she expected, in fairness; he did what he did out of devotion to Cassion, after all. It was why he did almost everything. Vega kept quiet as Reese replied. "That makes sense. It's good to learn about what's important to you." He seemed almost approving and Vega's suspicious nature was immediately at the fore.

But then, he asked if Arlo was doing this to impress a girl and Vega glanced up slightly more sharply. Because, she knew, it was none of Reese's business. Nor was it hers and she didn't really want to hear the answer, but of course answer was exactly what Arlo did. She shot him a tight but genuine smile when he replied and nodded. Carpentry was a practical skill for both of them, travelling together as they were and, if Arlo was going to make these cool box things that his lady friend had told him about, then he'd need to be able to put together boxes tightly.

"Joints, then, let's look at those. The art of putting two pieces of wood together. Here," Reese had a bag at his side which had a number of pieces of wood in it, which he emptied. Then, he started talking them through joining wood. "Butt joint. Literally, just one against the other. Make it stronger with nails, strengthen it with glue. You can make it stronger, here, by making it a lap joint. Dado and dowel joints.. see?" It all depended, Reese was clear, on the tools and equipment you had and the requirements for the wood itself. No doubting, there were a lot of techniques, but he demonstrated, then gave them a go. Vega paid careful attention and completely messed up her lap joint and ended up with a snapped off bit of wood which she held up with a sigh. Grinning at Arlo, she shrugged. "I think the idea is I'm supposed to take two things an' make them one thing, not three. Stop showing off." His was, in fairness, better than hers.

Reese, as they worked, watched the two of them and a deep frown settled on his face. He said nothing though, other than to answer questions and so on. He was watching them both sand a piece of wood, having just held Vega's hands to show her how to do it, when he asked with an apparent air of casual, "so do you plan on any boat travel you two?"

"Not if we can 'elp it, nah. I mean, Arlo isn't mad keen an' even though I don't get seasick no more, it's not really our thing. Why?" Reese shrugged his shoulders. "I just wondered," he said with a smile to them both. "You have been to Desnind and found out about your non-biqaj side, that which takes away the silver." His voice was clear and derisive. He didn't approve of her half-Sev'ryn nature. "Wouldn't you want to focus, now, on your heritage? On meeting biqaj to re immerse yourself in the society?" Vega looked at him with an entirely querulous expression on her face. "No, not really," she replied. "Right now, to-trial, I'm perfectly 'appy where I am an' with who I am, doin' what we do. Besides, I'm not gonna live somewhere where I'm only ever half good enough. Stuff that." Nudging Arlo, she gave a grin. "You keep workin' on them joints bein' good. I don't want no gone off meat."

Reese lapsed into silence for a while, but then glanced over to the middle of the deck where Joq'an was motioning. "Uncle is ready when you are. Keep practicing, I will leave you two to it. Enjoy your time together." Vega didn't respond, just carried on with what she was doing, but when he was gone, she spoke softly to Arlo. "I'm sorry. He's just bein' an ass cos he thinks I should meet a nice biqaj boy who won't mind my half-breed blood an' then I'm not dilutin' the bloodline even more. Wanna keep practicin' or move on to arrows?"

[Arlo Creede]

For the most part, while they were shown each of the tools, told what they were and how they worked, Arlo stayed quiet. Too many of the questions her cousin asked him felt a little like traps. Just as easy, they mightn't have been but came instead of simple curiosity. But it was all of Vega's fore-warnings, and the looks she shot his way...most of which he flatly ignored, that made him more suspicious than usual. Besides, he wasn't so concerned that he'd inadvertently offend her family, but more that he'd upset her in the process. "You put any sort of treatment on the wood, after you've sanded it down and put it all together?" he wondered. For instance, he wondered, something to help repel water and prevent rot from constant exposure to the elements. Especially water.

"I s'pose so," he agreed. Learning about what was important, that was. "I've been doing some reading lately about navigation too lately, off in the library. In particular, navigation under the night sky, by way of the stars and moons rather than relying on a compass." All of the questions had layers, Arlo suspected, just as Vega seemed to. But he'd decided that the best way to navigate his way through this visit, was to take them at face value. Or at least, appear to. Butt joints, lap joints, dado and dowel. He wasn't sure he'd remember the names exactly. But he'd remember the look of them and their function. The names themselves were less important. When Vega fumbled and broke her own project, he couldn't help but grin and when Reese wasn't looking, he gave a gesture only she would understand. Going to call you Gracie, that's what.

And then there was the question about boat travel. Arlo looked up, frowning a little then shrugged. He was just about to respond with a...when necessary, sure, when Vega stepped in. Just as well then, he figured this was hers and not his to contend with. She didn't have to tell him to focus harder on his box, but that didn't stop him from watching and listening to the exchange. The compulsion to speak up on Vega's behalf was close to irresistible. She'd know the effort it took not to, if she just glanced at the set of his jaw. It wasn't like Arlo to let the opportunity pass. He did however, just this once, knowing that if he did it wouldn't change her cousin's mind. But only make things worse. As a result, he'd pour all that energy into something else, and he'd get a very well built box from the exercise.

"Thank you," he looked up and said when Reese decided he was done. "It was good to meet you." When Vega explained, Arlo shrugged, put his box aside and grinned a little. "Yeah, I kind of got that bit. If we move to arrows, promise you won't be firing at anyone's backside?" he teased her while he had the chance. But he'd done as much as he could, building a serviceable, if ordinary box. It would do. Best to move on.

[Vega]

"Yes, varnish or sometimes, depending on the wood, we might creosote it. Depends on the use. Indoor wood, use varnish. But outdoors, you'll need to treat it a few times, if you want to make it truly waterproof. Here, I'll show you." Reese seemed to be, generally, a friendly enough chap and when he forgot that Arlo was committing some crime by being human, being here and being with Vega then he was quite personable to him. There was a selection, each with different uses and Reese talked them through. Varnish, sealant, creosote, each one of them.

When Arlo said he'd been learning about navigation, Vega gave him a surprised glance, not realising that he had and Reese nodded. "It's a good skill to have. True biqaj, we just know the stars; Xiur blessed us when U'frek made us and we know the constellations, navigation, that sort of thing. It's instinct. In the blood." Shrugging slightly with a glance at Vega, who was studiously working on her own thing, Reese continued. "Eva doesn't have that, but if you stay awhile, into next season," when there were stars to navigate by, he meant, "one of us could give you some pointers." Gesturing to the sky he explained it as he saw it. "A full blood biqaj, we live on the seas and beneath the stars and we know them both in our blood." He didn't notice that Vega rolled her eyes. She'd heard it before, it seemed.

Her grin at Arlo was genuine when he gestured to her in common sign and Vega signed right back. "And I will call you big head. No one likes a show off." The exchange between her and Reese was far less friendly, but Vega held her tongue as much as she could. Not least because she could see by the set of Arlo's jaw that he was getting irritated with the bickering. That was fair enough, he was used to different with his own family; his mother had been nothing except welcoming, after all. She gave him a grin when he asked her to promise she wasn't going to be shooting anyone and seemed to give it some serious consideration. "I dunno, Arlo. You can get really annoyin' you know?"

Jo'qan gave a brief, terse smile to Arlo and inclined his head. Then, he wrapped his arms around Vega and kissed her forehead. "Arrows. I will be pleased to teach you. Come, with me." He led them down to a small but mercifully cool room with a table in it. There was a bunk against one wall and Vega chuckled. "Pappa. Why are we working here?" Jo'qan said nothing, apparently not hearing anything.

"Get yourselves settled around the desk. I will fetch my equipment."

As her father left, leaving them there, Vega's grin was genuine and her eyes were bright lilac. "This is my room. Or it was. Long as I can remember. That chest, it's got toys an' stuff in it. He's such a softie." There were, should he notice such things, a few small and raggedy stuffed toys on the bunk and a hand-made blanket which was well worn. Jo'qan was relatively quick to return, his cabin being next to hers.

"Fletching, it is about the feathers and making the flights. Arrows fly well, or badly, depending on the fletch. So, first you must determine which way you want your arrow to rotate. Clockwise, or counter clockwise, from the point of view of the one loosing the arrow." Showing them what he was talking about, producing a number of different arrows which were each of the type he explained, he continued. "I use four feathers, about four inches. The more uniform those can be, in terms of size and weight, when you begin then the better for you. You need to decide on the fletching. Straight or wrap. Straight, like this. But see? It is offset, those feathers are not straight with the arrow. That is alright, but I prefer wrap fletching. Like so"

He gave them a few moments to look at what he had brought, to examine the feathers and the way they were fletched on to the arrows in question. "Questions?" He asked, as they did.

Off Topic

I don't know why, but the idea of a biqaj saying "helical fletching" sounds too modern. So wrap = helical fletching.

[Arlo Creede]

Varnish, creosote, depending on the wood, depending on what elements it would be exposed to so far as how much. So long as he, and Vega's cousin focused on the details and what they were doing, or a topic that interested the man, rather than Vega's identity or his, they seemed to get along fine. It wasn't much of a balm though, when he found so much of the rest to be disrespectful and insensitive. Not to him so much, Arlo didn't care much if the man liked him or not. But it was better if he did, for Vega's sake.

But there he went again, talking about blood and it's purity, so far as the Biqaj were concerned. The offer for help with learning navigation when the stars came out again. He appreciated that, he said, but quietly resolved that he could learn just as much from the books at the Scholar's Nook. And books didn't tend to throw thinly veiled insults around.

Arlo wasn't the only one however that opted to observe, and simmer, more than speak his thoughts aloud. Unseen by anyone but him, for the most part Lyova had snoozed atop the brim of his hat, having found too little of interest in the proceedings to keep her awake. But somewhere along the way she'd perked up and her uncommonly large eyes had narrowed some, focused on Vega's cousin in particular. If a blue blob of a fairy that was more eyes than anything else could scowl darkly, it was exactly what she did. And when the man strolled off, it appeared she'd decided to take a parting shot on Vega's behalf. She darted off Arlo's hat, sped towards her target with blinding speed before Arlo could stop her, and shot straight through one cheek of his posterior as if to mimic a bee sting.

Having been the only witness to the little diri's act of vengeance, Arlo couldn't help but snort in amusement. Though he was quick to put it in check before extending his hand to Vega's father. "It's good to see you again," he said. And if her father had ulterior motives for choosing her childhood bedroom for their less, he wasn't about to complain. It was out of the heat. "I'm tempted to go through it and have a look," he told her when she pointed out the chest. There was something to be learned about Vega inside that box, he thought. Something beyond those things that were already scattered about in the open. He didn't though. With his luck her father would walk in and catch him at it. He was quick enough to return as it was.

"Does it make a difference?" he asked curiously. Rotation, clockwise or counterclockwise he meant. He guessed that there must be some sort of scenario when it might. But he'd be damned if he could think of one off the cuff. As for fletching, Arlo had already known that the feathers on the arrows shot from his shortbow were different than the ones on the bolts that fit his pistol shortbow. The first might be considered straight. But the second? "Interesting. The arrows for my shortbow have straight feathers. But the bolts for my smaller ones, wrapped."

[Vega]

For some reason, the thought of Reese teaching Arlo about navigation, the 'true' biqaj way, made Vega's blood boil. She wanted to argue, to say that no, he wasn't going to be doing that, he wasn't going to be teaching anyone, especially not Arlo, but she didn't. Instead, she just kept quiet and maintained her focus on what she was doing. It wasn't her business, she reminded herself and so she turned her gaze to the wood, looking at the varnish and the creosote and all other things. It was more complex than she had thought, but Vega had quite enjoyed it, it must be said. If only Reese wasn't such an unmitigated ass, things would be almost nice.

Still, the sight of her father was more than enough to cheer her up and she grinned at Arlo when he said that he was tempted to have a look at the chest. "You're more than welcome to. It's just.. I dunno, silly old things that I didn't wanna throw away. You've got to be real good with not havin' a lot of space on a ship, you know. So, what you keep is only what's important t'ya." But if he wanted to, she wouldn't object and nor would her father, she assured him. In truth, she admitted, she was half tempted to sit and look through it herself. It had been, she explained with a wry grin, a bit of a long time since she'd done so.

However, Jo'qan was quick to return and quick to get them to work. At Arlo's question a brief smile crossed his face. "If it does, I have never found out. Since the arrow does not spin until it is loosed, it is not about handedness. Yet, I prefer arrows which are fletched counter clockwise." Many archers had a preference, he said. In terms of the shortbow and the crossbow, he did have an answer there.

"If you fire a shortbow up to maybe thirty foot, you will notice no difference in the straight or wrapped fletch. Beyond that, at greater distances, the difference between a straight fletch and a wrapped one can be enormous. But the wrapped is harder to do." He shrugged. It was largely, often, down to preference. He glanced at Vega and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head and he nodded, accepting that she had no questions.

"Now, we cut the feathers," he showed them the technique for trimming, making them uniform and preparing them for the fletching process. Then, it was the use of small, precise tools in order to carve out the small grooves where the feathers would slip in. "Many people glue here, which glue you use is important. There is not a lot of glue on the ocean, so I would buy rabbit-skin glue. Try. You try."

Vega had that look of concentration which meant that she was determined to impress her father, who watched her as she worked. He turned to Arlo then and spoke in his gruff and deep voice. "Good. You do well. Your friend learns well, Eva." Vega lifted her head to look at Jo'qan and she grinned. "Only sometimes, Pappa. Not always."

"I will let you practice. When you have ten arrows you are happy with, bring them to me. I will be on deck reminding Reese what family means." He kissed Vega on the forehead and nodded to Arlo, although he frowned as he looked at what he was doing. "If you bring me any like that, it will not be good enough. More even." With that he left again and Vega watched him then let out a sigh and lowered her head to the arrow she was working on.

"He doesn't like the constant 'full blood', 'pure blood' rubbish. I've told him it's alright, but he doesn't listen." With an almost legendary lack of self awareness, she added. "He's stubborn and bloody minded, you know? I mean, sometimes I think he just enjoys tellin' them off." She grinned, though, continuing to work on the fletching and then pulling a face. "This is 'arder than it looks, innit?"

[Arlo Creede]

"I guess my mother has probably kept some of my old things," Arlo considered when Vega said he could go through the chest if he wanted. "There probably wasn't much I left behind though. Things that were more important to her than to me maybe." For the most part, what he'd wanted, he took with him when he'd left home.

As for Jo'qan's answer, about whether or not handedness made a difference, Arlo frowned a little in response. Somehow he'd figured there ought to be a reason for one or the other. Something other than somebody's whim. "Maybe it does have to do with handedness," he countered. "Not so much the hand used to fire the bow, dominance wise. But handedness in the sense of comfort and ease while attaching the feathers." What he meant of course, was that the text in a scroll was readable whether it was written by a left handed or right handed person. Made no difference to the one that read it. But the writer, all the difference in the world.

Now in theory, trimming and attaching the feathers was straightforward enough. Actually doing though, and doing it well, that would take practice. Something Arlo discovered rather quickly. He was seventeen, as close to eighteen as could be and didn't like admitting there was anything he couldn't do, and do well. But fair enough. He needed practice. Vega's response regarding his ease of learning, sometimes, brought about a crooked grin though he said nothing aloud. "I'll do some better ones," he said when her father excused himself.

"It ought to be easy," he told her, starting on a new one straight away and getting glue on his fingers in the process. Still, Arlo frowned and thought about what she'd said. "Your cousin's an ass," he said bluntly, but quietly. "I'm curious though, the way your cousin keeps pointing out your origins, and the way he seems to think that Biqaj is better than all, and half is only marginally better. I mean, it's your father that chose someone not Biqaj for himself. So why you that's criticized but not him?" he asked curiously.