COTTONMOUTH: Be the loyal son and do your chores.
From Create Your Own Story
You slump, this swordplay had started to feel stupid anyways. Chances are these chores are the best you can hope to look forward to, milking cows and feeding chickens. No damsels in distress, no Dragons of the Falgoon Mountains. A normal life.
You sit on your milking stool, udder in hand pumping away into a wooden bucket. You wipe your brow, eyes glazed with boredom.
"I didn't actually expect to find you in here." Says a voice behind you, turning to find your brother Xander Cottonmouth in the doorway to the barn. He's your same age with bright green eyes and black locks that fall over his face, your hight though slightly leaner than you, though his smooth firm chest is visible from his open shirt attesting to the hard work of the farm. "I thought I'd be stuck milking while you were still in the feild playing at your fairy tales."
You smirk at his jab, leaping up from your stool and snatching a farmers spade from the wall, brandishing it dramatically at his face.
"That's Captain Cottonmouth to you peasant, and a common cowherder would watch his tongue if he wished to keep it." You smile mischievously.
He looks back at you without amusement. "Don't."
But it's too late, you swing at his head with the spade forcing him to grab his own to block it with an expert parry.
"You know this means war!" You shout with an actors bravado and the battle begins!
