Written Boss Battle Attacks: Conall | How'd I get stuck with you

5. Family Matters. You’ve probably had your own problems with family flaking on you for whatever reason. Draw or write your character in a time where their family went back on their word… or when they went back on their word to a family member! No one’s perfect, after all.

 

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He's sat on the ground with a knee up that he does his best to rest his arm across. It would be a nice day to most... The clouds aren't as thick, the sun peeks between to warm the ground, and a breeze blows through that keeps things from getting too hot. Keeps things pleasant. It would be nice if his hands weren't bound, if he wasn't stuck with these insufferable people, if he wasn't being bothered by-

 

“Wow… your hair is sooo long… I didn't know boys could have long hair, only girls… unless… are you a girl?” A smallish figure asks, genuine curiosity in her voice, standing on tiptoes behind him. Peering and pestering. 

 

“No.”

 

“Are you sure?” She reaches out to touch it, his hair. He tenses, about to growl and snap, but stops when the little girl adds, “It's so soft and pretty… I think more people should have hair like you, boys or girls or anybody. Then you can comb it so it's nice and soft, tie it up high or braid it or…….” Her voice trails off, his ears flick back, to hear her footsteps departing. Maybe she left. A moment of peace.

Which isn't long at all. Just as soon as the moment is had the little thump thumps of her quick foot falls against the earth can be heard. He sighs and shuts his eyes… he doesn't have the energy to care right now and drifts into a light sleep despite himself...

 

 

Something tugs at his hair and his eyes fly open, teeth bared he's about to wheel on whoever or whatever just did that-

And before he can move too much he's punched in the head by a small fist.

 

“What the hells-?!”

 

“Hey! You can't move, you'll mess it up!”

 

“What-” The little hand punches him again. Doesn't hurt but it does piss him off, he grumbles in his throat.

 

“Don't move, or else they'll fall out! Keep still. Sheesh, some people.”

 

He grits his teeth. She's putting… things. In his hair. Lovely.

“Don't you think smacking me on the head might knock things loose?!”

 

No smack this time, the girl stomps around to stand in front of him, hands on her hips. A pale green and blue eye stares at him with all the sternness an eight-or-something year old can muster. The markings on her face mirror his, her ears, and her brow furrows to match. 

“Maybe just your brain. Now listen!” She points in his face then to his head. “I can't make you beautiful if you keep moving around, so stay still! You'll damage the petals, and then I'll have to get more, and they told me not to wander too far because it's not safe, and then I'll get in trouble, and then it'll be your fault!”

 

He rolls his eyes and huffs.

“I don't really see how that's supposed to be my problem.” He doesn't move his head again, only adjusting himself so he's sat cross legged instead. She walks back around to continue decorating his hair. “If they were that worried about you, why'd they leave you here with me?”

 

“I dunno really.” She pauses as she thinks about it, then once her thoughts are sorted, gets back to work.

“Freya said you wouldn't hurt me, but that other guy didn't want to believe her... They don't trust you.” She starts twining smaller buds near his temple. “I don't think you'd hurt me though, even if you try to look tough. I'm tougher anyway so it just won't work.”

 

He glowers at the ground as she continues babbling on, tuning her out.

He doesn't like her speaking on his behalf, making promises on who he will or won't attack but… she is right. His gaze relaxes, more tired than angry, eyes defeated when no one is around to see. 

She probably doesn't know how exactly, Freya isn't smart… but… despite his nature he's not going to hurt this little girl. He's not going to hurt Brianna’s daughter, who acts just like her mom. More of a temper though... The daughter of his first and last best friend… his….... his...

 

. . .

 

He doesn't know what happened to her mom… suppose the least he can do is keep her daughter alive for a few more hours. Protect her when he failed before… Somebody's kept her alive this long, the least he can do is watch her for a few hours... yeah.

 

“Wake me up if there's an emergency, but only then, or I'm not going to be responsible for what happens next.” 

“I'm… going to rest. Do whatever I guess.”