Spindle is displeased. Tag sees it in the set of his frown, the way his fists dig into his hips. He’s staring into his teacher’s bedroom and clearly finding fault.
“C-can I paint your walls?” he asks. “Please? S-something?”
Tag is situated on the far side of the extensive room that makes up his living space. The ceiling stands a full two stories tall, and the walls still retain their preserved concrete and exposed metal rafters. Every wall houses large, black-barred windows that overlook the industrial district of Seattle. The room is a monotone of greys and dark metals, and is lacking in furniture save a bedroll in the corner and several training apparatuses neatly pushed to another corner. It stands in stark contrast to the werewolf’s now decorated room.
Tag looks up at his apprentice. In front of him is a large wooden traveling chest. He has it unfolded to reveal its inner storage shelves. Lined in neat rows are several small metal capsules the size of large pills. He’s in the process of attaching two halves together when Spindle arrives. “Why?” Tag asks.
“This is your home, right?” Spindle shifts from foot to foot, eyeing the capsules. “It should feel like home. R-right now it doesn’t. You don’t need to have a lot of stuff, b-but it should be nice to look at.”
“I like the simplicity of it. I don’t need much, and not having much means it’s easy to be ready to go whenever I want,” Tag says placing the capsule carefully in its place.
“B-but you’re not leaving, right?”
“No, but I like to keep my load light.”
Spindle continues to fidget. “C-can I just paint the walls? You don’t have to take those anywhere. Y-you can just take pictures to remind you of home.”
“Why is that so important to you?”
Spindle scowls. “N-nothing. Just, can I? Y-you can help pick out the designs.”
Tag folds his legs and swivels to look at Spindle fully. He raises a dark eyebrow and leans forward, arms hanging off the front of his knees.
Spindle crosses his arms, pinning Tag with his best stubborn stare. Tag is content to wait for the answer to his question.
Spindle’s inhumanly stubborn, but Tag is worse, and the wizard wins the staring contest in the end. “I’m scared you’re not going to stay long, s-so I wanted to make it feel like home for you,” he admits, studying the exercise equipment. “To, um, m-make it feel more like home than your other homes.”
Having gotten his answer, the mage shifts his posture and settles back onto his elbows. “Is that it?” He reaches over and lifts one of the capsules and offers it to the werewolf.
Spindle eyes the little metal gadget with suspicion. “Wh-what is that?”
“Well come here and I’ll show you.” Tag wiggles the capsule in his hand for emphasis.
Spindle trots across the room until he’s within sniffing distance of Tag’s palm.
His nose picks his teacher’s usual smell, along with some Old Spice and a hint of wet moss that never seems to completely leave the man. The capsule is oval shaped with a brushed, shiny metal surface. Neatly carved into the top half of the pill are letters that read ‘Auckland, New Zealand’.
Spindle continues his skeptical sniffing. “Wh-what is that?”
Tag motions for Spindle to look at some of the others. The trunk is lined with hundreds of these same capsules. Each one has a neat name inscribed on it: ‘Salisbury, England’; ‘Motuo, Tibet’; ‘Easter Island’; and ‘Ittoqqortoormiit, Greenland’ are among the names he sees. “These are how I get from place to place. Or at least they make it a hell of a lot easier.”
“Are you sorting them like records?”
“In a manner of speaking. I take a small piece of something from the location. I can use it to hone in on the location after that.”
“Th-that makes sense. Um. What does that have to do with you leaving here?”
Tag places the capsule back in it’s spot. “It’s like this. Distance is less of a barrier to me. Like when we traveled from the east to west coast of this country to watch the 4th of July fireworks over and over again. I’m never far away from here.”
Spindle crosses his arms, his scowl back in force. “It’s not the same.”
“Why’s that? Are you worried I’m leaving the city undefended when I leave?”
“No, I just-” Spindle flails as he digs for the right words. “I just want y-you to care about this place.”
“I do. I took an oath to protect this cabal, this city.”
Spindle shivers. “H-how many other places did you swear to protect?”
“This is the only place I have now.” He gets up and places his hands on the teen’s shoulders with deliberate motion. “You think I don’t care about Seattle?”
“N-no, you just…you just travel a lot. You, um, m-make sure you can leave whenever you want. I just don’t want to be left behind.”
Tag’s eyes soften somewhat. “You’re my apprentice. I’d never leave you behind. I was always with my master. Same with us. He pauses to consider. “Except for school. You need to finish school.”
Tears bubble up at the edges of Spindle’s eyes. “S-so can I paint your room?”
Tag gives a small sigh and looks around his barren living space. “How about one wall?” he offers as a compromise.
Spindle claps his hands, perking up instantly. “Yeah! Um. I s-sort of have some stuff in mind already, but I’ll paint anything you want.”
“I’ll let you decide.” He taps the bright pink hair on the werewolf’s head. “But nothing too loud, yeah?”