Use of Self

There was a sloshing and a squelching slowly making its way closer. Shoda didn't bother to raise her head, there were only two it could be, and she'd find out in a second. Her clever fingers worked the tiny paring knife around a particularly knobbly eye in the potato when a soft 'clack' told her exactly who was walking up to her. Now she raised her head, brushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled. A face more lined with age than the delta was with streams smiled back at her. His dark eyes sparkled and his wooden wading shoes clacked softly against each other as he levered himself up onto the ramp to the house and joined Shoda on the porch.

"Hullo dah." Shoda greeted warmly, putting the now peeled potato in the bucket with the other ones as the tiny fish made off with the last of the peelings.

The old man chuckled as he watched their antics. "Ye bein' ready for tonight? Ye bruther's been makin' fish to walk practicin' dah."

Shoda shook her head and sighed. Laok liked to impose his Self on the weaker creatures, he said it helped him practice, made him stronger. She didn't like it. More often than not she'd come along after he was done and get enough practice herself by putting to right what he had messed up. The fish, for example, would be left gasping for air, their gills burned and rasping. It wouldn't take but a little application of her own Self to heal the wounds and make it right again, and they were only fish, but she still didn't like it. "Why do you let him do that Roburt? It hurts 'em and it's just plain mean."

Roburt just chuckled and laid a knobbly hand on Shoda's shoulder, "Dah, he's just bein' a young lad, he be seven years ye junior missy, 'tis a phase. In time he'll turn his Self to the healin', as is right."