(Wyngro) Trauma (Part 1)

The morning after anthonyartfreak.deviantart.com…
Next: warriorsfangirl1920.deviantart…

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While Alma certainly didn't appreciate the trio coming back after dark, they were much too worn out- and it much too late- for much to be done about it, so they were instead told to wash themselves and go to bed. Still, she didn't forget the next morning. When marching orders of the day were given, Farren- along with a handful of other wynglings who'd ended up staying out too late while hiking- were tasked with a particularly large quantity of various chores.

Not resisting, Farren quickly undid his dirtied shawl and joined the others to do the laundry, scrubbing and working various cloths and clothes under the water before getting to his shawl. For a brief moment he rested his arms, idly picking at the peeling band-aids on his upper chest. Disturbed by numerous sleeps and the shifting of his clothes, they were barely sticking, and he began to peel one off to survey how his scratches were doing. Scabbed over and partially healed...

His thoughts were broken by a cheery greeting appearing from his right, spooking his hand into jerking away and tugging the rest of the band-aid off before he reflexively went back and covered it- as though that drew less attention. Thoughts still shaken from the intrusion of the mature voice among the wynglings, he offered an unsteady greeting in return and tried to 'nonchalantly' go back to washing. The adult, perplexed by how obvious and unnatural Farren was, opted to sit down directly by him, spilling over a basket of dirty laundry to wash herself.

His mild spasm had drawn her eye to his chest quickly enough, and even quicker came inquiries of where it had come from, and if he was alright. Reluctantly he started by explaining it came from a rude wyngling, who has also torn his shawl in the process- with a quick lift from the water to show off the stitches. While he expected the conversation to fizzle there, she persisted concernedly, asking if he was frequently bullied. Farren surmised the stories, as short as they were, of his experiences with Harmony and Blood Hound, though noted the former was the one who fixed his shawl from the latter.

As her brow furrowed in thought and she looked down to the water to begin washing her own load, Farren resumed as well, movements stiff and awkward. He knew only the presence of Alma and, faintly his mother, teaching him that adults required formality and respect- which made him focus quite heavily on his movements and even expressions. But then her voice appeared again, asking if she could join him during his chores. Taken aback, he agreed.

- - -

Träumer, Farren had learned her name was, and he offered his likewise. As they went about their combined chores, she seemed insistent on sparking conversation. Light and friendly and patient- nothing he'd yet seen of the older adults. At first he tried to keep up the short, curt, awkward answers, but over time found himself relaxing and enjoying the conversation. Few had hung around him long enough for such extensive chattering- which was mostly his fault, he figured.
By the end of their morning rounds, Farren's chores had been long done, yet he still found himself trailing after Träumer as she went about her own business. She had even coerced a few genuine laughs out of him along the way.

Finally with everything done, she suddenly asked what he wanted to do, what he liked to do. Surprised and bashful, he at first neglected to respond, though after a little convincing  she got out of him that he liked board games, puzzles, reading, and a bit of sewing. She seemed enthusiastic though, inquiring about his sewing.

Normally the wyngling was restricted to what he could reach, and what he thought wouldn't be missed. Rags, namely. But with the adult, he had access to better things. Specifically-colored cloth, stuffing, sharper scissors, and her thumbs that were much better suited for handling said scissors. They decided to make a spoodle noodle; simple, but still fun.

As they settled down and the day wore on, Träumer looked down the halls of the nook briefly, obviously thinking, before turning her gaze onto Farren. "I should be heading home about now," she started, gauging his response. Although she could see a hint of disappointment, he hid it well enough and simply nodded.
"Would you like to come with me?"

Farren froze at the question, ears resuming their drooped position as his eyes widened. His relaxed state was abruptly overtaken by anxiety as he looked away from the adult. "Ehm, n-no, thank you though," he said lowly, though how he spoke indicated obvious conflict within his mind and gave the impression of autopilot, as his flitting gaze and furrowed brows suggested he was still thinking about it.

You were left here because you were a burden. She's so nice and cheery- mom was never like that, was she?
Because she had you. Don't go with her, you'll just ruin her, and she'll leave you here again.

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[cough]
this took way too much longer than it shouldve, but at least its done.
sorry if i messed anything up, i havent been the most focused during the making of this =v= and uh, dont mind her markings.. sort of.. on her ears..
i didnt plan enough head space for them ryyYYY-
^{and lmk if anything is ooc there, ive never been the best at writing other peoples' characters}

in order of appearance (top-bottom left-right)
Alma belongs to herself
Josh-Josh's slice of butt belongs to @/anthonyartfreak
Kipper belongs to AK-Meow
Farren belongs to me
Steven belongs to GamingArtist4Life
Floyd belongs to Basti-chan
Pixel's leg and nose belong to @/Mr-Hydee
Träumer belongs to WarriorsFanGirl1920
Harmony (mentioned) belongs to @/thefanartchannel2
Blood Hound (mentioned) belongs to @/mrcriticism

50</sub>/313
+Paw pads (not shown but.. theyre there, trust me)