Golden Glade Vans

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She calls them lil geese and comes forward to greet them both with kisses. Astik grumbles a bit, still half asleep as she gives him kisses after Tapat. “Moooom,” Astik complains but it is purely half-hearted. He does not mind his mother’s kisses but he has to play the part of angst ridden teenager if only to tease her. His ears lifted with unbidden interest when Jhala tells them she is going to teach them sparring techniques. Sparring! Astik’s tail wags behind him as he begins to prance, almost paw to paw in place. Yes! If he knows how to fight he’ll be able to better protect Tapat, watch out for him better. Tapat’s whine breaks Astik out of his revere and he looks to his pale brother with concern for a moment before he moves to bump his shoulder against the pallid boy’s own. It takes a second of sleep slowed brain for Astik to realize that Tapat wasn’t going to remember what Jhala showed them. He would probably be lucky if he remembered it for a few minutes at most, but Astik wanted Tapat to be able to protect himself, too. It was rare that Astik wasn’t his brother’s shadow because it was his purpose in life: to be bodyguard, to be his guide because he could not remember. He was the Rook and Tapat was the King. The rook frowned for a moment as his amber eyes moved over his pale brother in contemplation. “Don’t worry, Tapat,” Astik tells him. “I can show you everyday, if that what it takes.” Astik didn’t know much about the mind or the body but he hopes that even if Tapat’s mind didn’t remember that his muscles would and if he ever found himself in trouble he would be able to just know how to protect himself.

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