Fleck sighed and dipped his pen in ink. Though it had been nearly a week since the fall, he still couldn't form the words to describe that day. Even now, in the quiet of Cloud Mountain, he couldn't find the words any more then he could go to sleep. It had been like this for several days, after the idea that he could have saved the king came to his mind.

"Why do I always follow orders?" Fleck wondered, tugging on his ears.

He tossed his pen down in defeat, then gaped in horror. A splotch of black ink dashed across the floor.

"Oh no." Fleck shouted, bending to observe the new wood floor.

"Fleck?" Fleck turned to the door, shock on his face.

"Oh. Pacer." Fleck sighed, moving his foot to block the ink stain on the floor.

"Hi." Pacer uncomfortably shuffled from one foot to the other.

"It's midnight." Fleck groaned, capping his ink.

"I know. But I would like you to train me." Pacer asked.

"Me?" Fleck laughed, "An oathebreaker?" Fleck didn't realize how much those words had hurt his friend.

"Fine." Pacer turned and left, leaving Fleck to wonder why he always did things wrong.

(that was short, but interesting to write)