#in which Sau was a bossy baby

[fireintheforest]

Ink

When you’re 2 years old, the world has a surprise on every corner. And in this corner, for this 2 year old, the surprise came in the shape of a stout, small bottle with a dark liquid in it, hiding inside the lowest shelf of their father’s desk. Saufinril (3 years old) had picked the quill first, twirling it around his hands and admiring the cream and coffee colors in it and how soft it was. Ganra, however, took the bottle and examined it, making his brother forget the feather as soon as his eyes fell on his brother’s discovery.

Ganra (2 years old) turned it around on one hand as Saufinril let the quill fall and scooted next to Ganra.

“Give me, I want to see.” He instructed, so Ganra gave his older brother the bottle with the mysterious black liquid in it.

“Open it!” Ganra whispered, his green eyes still on the new toy. Saufinril turned it around, taking his time to look at the liquid and how it rotated before his attention went back to the opening and the cork that kept the ink inside. It took him some tries, but little by little the cork was pulled upwards, bit by bit, until Saufinril removed it completely and the ink was now accessible. The first one to do anything was Ganra, who stuck a finger into it, pulled the finger out, and then made his hand into a fist in order to feel the ink.

“It’s so cold.”

“I’m next!” Saufinril said, pouring the ink on his stretched hand, some spilling into the ground. He placed the jar next to him and then proceeded to play and feel with the ink he had in his left hand. Ganra scratched an itch he had on his nose (which, therefore, was now black) and inched closer to Saufinril to grab the bottle and do the same he’d done: palm outstretched, pour the liquid (more ink spilled than with Saufinril), put it down and aside, and he chose to rub it in both hands to feel it. Saufinril, meanwhile, was playing with the spilled ink by using his finger to connect the splotches with each other, making inky bridges and then moving on to designs on the ground. Swirls, shaky stars, some ugly stick figures. Not before long, Ganra joined in with his own semi-formed drawings.

“Ganra, no, my drawing!” Saufinril stressed when his brother suddenly pressed his black finger on one of the spills and moved it around, deleting one of Saufinril’s figures’ heads. Saufinril moved Ganra’s wrist away as he said, “You draw here.”

“But…” Ganra protested, stretching his finger to dip it back on the spill next to Saufinril’s designs.

“Ganra, no.” when Saufinril moved his brother away (and Ganra resisting to), his leg hit the bottle, and more ink spilled. The glass noise against the ground distracted both brothers from the struggle for territory and made them turn their head behind them, where the black puddle grew. Seizing the chance, Ganra dipped his fingers on the new puddle and drew nearby, knees and legs now smearing on his old drawings. Saufinril was careful not to ruin his own doodles, but not so much to not get ink on his shoe or arms. The two drew for a while in silence, stopping only to scoot in their knees to another side of the spill (and therefore drag more ink to new sides of the floor) or to wipe the stray gold hair that fell out of the way, tainting them dark and contrasting with the rest.

Covered in ink: the true seal of artists.

Ganra’s art was an abstract design, with the random but calculated lines and messes only a 2 year old can make with flawless execution. The lines, the splotches, all expressing the je ne sais quoi that a toddler desires to express when they are drawing on the wooden floor with ink. The art also featured handprints here and there: a personal mark of the artist himself.

Saufinril opted more for a surrealism look, portraying the daily life of a three year old: his parents, his brother, himself, the house, the flowers in the garden by the kitchen, the fat cat on the corner, the people on the market and on the shop, the comical baskets and merchandise. Too big heads, hands with four fingers, the cat’s whiskers stretched onto Oblivion. The sun was very close to houses. A risky choice for this young painter, but he delivered.

At one point, while Ganra had his tongue out in complete concentration as he painted, Saufinril passed another hand through his forehead to clear away the hair and looked up right at his father, who had knelt down next to them without either child realizing it. He’d been observing the art with a face that Saufinrill couldn’t read yet, but he did understand the small smile that was on his face. Rulan looked at his older son and, the smile stretching more, asked, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Oh, right. He does not enter the office unless he’s with a grown up. He looked at his black hands and clothes, then looked back at his dad. Ganra had also turned to look behind him when he heard his father’s voice (Ganra’s hair in the front was almost all black and his clothes were almost fully inked as well).

“I’m hungry.” Saufinril realized out loud. Rulan just sighed, the smile still on his face.

“Dad look at mine.” Ganra chimed in, patting Rulan’s knee twice with his still wet hand, therefore staining Rulan’s pants. Rulan turned to look at the doodles Ganra had made, “These are mine. Those are Finn’s.”

“This is us.” Saufinril presented his masterpiece, pointing one item at a time, “And this is the garden and this is the cat and this is you.” To all designs, Rulan nodded and had his eyebrows arched, expressing his interest in “ooooh”s and “aaah”s and asking what was this, what is that, who is this. Once the art exhibition ended, however, the gallery closed when Rulan said, “I love it. Now, you both look like little coal pebbles and mom will get a kick out of this. Let’s go take a bath.”

“My drawing…” was all Ganra could say to express his lament at not being able to stay with the ink anymore as Rulan scooped him with one arm. Saufinril stretched his arms at his dad, facilitating the second scoop for Rulan since Saufinril clung around his neck with said arms. Rulan stood up, careful with the kids, then walked out of the office, up the stairs and to the store. Kusunna had just put in the closed sign and was turning around when she saw her husband carrying the two inked children. Her jaw dropped and she looked at Rulan for an explanation.

“I mean,” he began, “on the bright side they weren’t running around.”

#tesblr #tes #altmer #elflings #third era Sau #in which Sau was a bossy baby #I like to imagine Rulan felt his soul leave his body when he saw the kids playing with ink and drawing on the ground #get that real life experience when you see a toddler doing something #HI my break ended WOOHOO