Walking turned out to be a good choice. After only a few minutes, Taryn saw the familiar hulking form of his best friend and fellow forward, Mason Thorne. Standing just shy of six foot two and weighing about 220lbs, most people would call Taryn big. When standing next to Mason however, Taryn looked downright petite. Not only was Mason, who usually went by Thorney, almost six inches taller, he was also nearly that much wider. With shaggy long hair, a full beard, and a generally affable-verging-on-gormless demeanor Thorney had a rather ursine air about him. He always reminded Taryn of a fat grizzly right before harvest. Yes he was kind of pudgy. Yes he was all soft edges. Yes he gracelessly bumbled around. But also, yes he could effortlessly eviscerate you. It took a lot to make him angry, but when he got properly fired up, Mason could move mountains.

“Oi, Thorney” Taryn called as he jogged to catch.

“Alright mate, How’re you doing?”

“Doing well, big fella, although I'm not loving the looks of these clouds.”

“Ya, it's a bit shit out” agreed Thorney. “Forecast was decent this morning. Left my umbrella at home. I’m surprised your mum didn’t tell you to bring one”

Taryn glanced up at the big man’s face. His beard was quivering as he tried to hold back a grin. “You need new jokes,” he said. “Not only is that not how it works, which you know, it was already like this when I left.”

“And people call you the smart one” tutted Thorney.

“No… people don’t call me the smart one, they just call you a dumbarse and I look smart by default”

“Yeah a smartarse is more like it” grumbled Thorney. Taryn smiled and looked up at his friend again. It was fair to say that Mason wasn't the quickest wit, but he wasn’t stupid by any means. He was kind hearted and fearlessly passionate. He also exemplified the difference between knowledge and wisdom. Poor as his grades may be, Thorney's actions always showed careful consideration.

The two men were wending their way through the town centre. Their destination, only about a mile North East as the crow flies, was a hall on the university campus. A local charity regularly rented a hall for sport themed quiz nights. The proceeds from the night would be used to help the kids from low income families play sports. As they rounded a corner, intending to take the cross street north for a bit before cutting back east, they were met by the frigid blast of an arctic gale. Perhaps that was a bit much. Taryn thought to himself. Not an arctic gale but certainly frigid. And from the north. A glance at Thorney let him know the man was unfazed. Taryn however had no desire to squint into the wind at that particular moment. “Let's head this way and hope the wind is better.” Taryn pointed east with his chin, his hands having buried themselves in his pockets. “If not we can cut through the library.”

Thorney paused. He liked to take his time when thinking. Moving before thinking led to poor choices. Sometimes those choices needed smart people to fix and Thorney knew he wasn’t smart. Not smart enough to make poor decisions at any rate. “Library’s out of the way” he said eventually.

“Only a block”

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“Still out of the way”

“But it’s warm” Taryn eyed the big man as he said it, knowing he had already lost. The wind that had made him catch his step had no effect on Thorney beyond making his hair and beard dance on the breeze.

“The cold is nice. Refreshing. It’ll wake us up for the quiz.”

“I don’t need quite that much waking up.” Taryn retorted. He knew it was a lost cause though, so he switched tack. He simply looked his friend in the eye and said “Please?”

“Alright. But I'm shoving ice down your neck later if you nod off.”

Taryn glared at the barn door of a back as it set off across the street. He may as well have been glaring at an actual barn door for all the good it did him. While it might take his mate a moment to think, he charged ahead immediately on whatever needed doing. Hurrying to catch up, Taryn recalled the countless times Thorney had thundered into contact on the pitch. Never afraid to throw his immense weight around when clearing a ruck, he was also the first one to jump to a teammates defence when tempers started flaring. Looking up let Taryn know that he hadn’t gained any ground. Was it just his long stride or had the big fella sped up to mess with him? It was often hard to tell as Thorney had mastered the space between happy accident and deliberate shenanigan. The oaf was about as delicate a troll on a bouncy castle physically, yet he was by no means bereft of subtlety. Especially when it came to his sense of humour.

Taryn blamed this on the third member of their primary social circle, Logan Frost. He was physically Thorney’s opposite. Small and wiry, devilishly quick, and devious as the day is long, Logan played scrum half on their team. His inability to keep his mouth shut was as likely to charm a ref into seeing things our way as it was to pour petrol on any spark when everyone was already fired up during a particularly close game. In fact it was more often than not Logan that started whatever tussle Thorney would inevitably break up. Taryn could usually keep his head but once things kicked off he always relished being in the thick of fight. To be completely honest, it was when he felt the most alive. Every bruise felt like a badge of honour. Hobbling around the shop the following Tuesday wasn’t the price of playing, rather it was the prize. A sacrifice of pain on the altar of his body, paying for the party in the temple of his mind.

As luck would have it, Logan was approaching the library from the south as they walked up to it from the east. Logan would arrive a good thirty seconds before them so Taryn broke into a jog. It seemed Thorney had also spotted him as he yelled a greeting across the street. Taryn missed the words but not the message that passed between his two mates. He somehow was only just now catching up to Thorney, and even then only because he was waiting on the traffic lights to change. Good old ‘lumbering lightning’. Smirking, he filed that little moniker away for the next time Thorney got lippy after a few pints. Perhaps it was because he didn’t talk much that people paid attention when he did. Whatever the case, the boys went quiet when Thorney started speaking. That meant if you were on the other end of the chat, all eyes would be on you the moment Thorney was done. It helped to have a few arrows already in the quiver. Very few burns sting as much as the big dumb guy rendering you speechless. Even a stutter was enough to lose whatever potency your response might have had.

The next words of the exchange were lost to Taryn as well. They were drowned out by the arrival of all of the rain. Taryn imagined this is what it must feel like to people on the street below one of those infinity pools that break in action movies. A whole pools worth of water suddenly cascading into the ground. And further words between he friends would have to wait until they were inside. Taryn caught a glimpse of Logan scurrying up the stairs and through the grand entrance of the library. Only after crossing the street and beginning his own ascent did he catch sight of him again. Logan awaited them in the large vestibule. Taryn had been expecting to see Logan that night but only at the quiz. The library was properly out of his way, not just the long way around a triangle Thorney had moaned on about. As he ascended the stairs, more of the vestibule came into view. Logan was standing beside a display of some kind. There was a table on either end of some kind of diorama. The whole display was behind ropes. Whatever it was, it was clear the public were not allowed to touch it.

As another step brought his eyeline above the table top, Taryn’s eyes locked onto… something and then he went blind. A sudden white flash seemed to freeze the world. A voice made of light spoke to his soul through his skin as his ears were deafened by a torrent of words, only some of which he could make sense of. Just as he knew the spirit of what had passed between his friends without having heard the words, he knew what lay at the heart of these words, now roiling around his mind in a language he didn't really speak but caught the occasional word. Another flash of light, this one seeming to erupt from behind his eyes, banished the words. With the sudden silence came total and utter darkness.

The next thing he knew, Thorney was gently leaning him against a wall. Logan was sneering down at him over a giant shoulder. He clearly had something to say but was squeezing his lips together so hard it was almost as if he had sewn his mouth shut to keep his words at bay. Thorney turned and headed off towards the display. Taryn tried to gather his thoughts and before he knew it the huge man was kneeling beside him. Focusing through the fog in his head, Taryn watched as an enormous hand pressed an ice pack to his forehead. After a moment the hand moved the ice pack out of view. Forgetting that he could move his eyes, Taryn instead focussed on the face that was now before him. A giant self satisfied smile spread across it as Taryn felt the ice pack arrive on the back of his neck.