When I was asking about character faults, it was suggested that I do a short exercise exploring the characters, I don't know if this is long enough or no good, I don't know, but here it is. (I didn't know really where to put it either, in the writing workshop or here, sorry if it is in the wrong place) ***** “What do you want?” I asked standing in front of the meats. “The one you have the least of.” Arthur commanded. “Please.” He added meekly. “That is just annoy-“ “It means it is the best, doesn’t it? You eat that one first because it’s the best, or do you do the reverse, in which case, the most. Please.” I smiled, realising how clever this was. He was correct the first time, and why should he not have the best? I took our last pheasant off the hook and called him over. “You will have to pluck it though, I hate plucking.” “I don’t know how though!” he winced, as he tugged on the feathers, making the bird shudder, as if alive. “Fine, it will mean it will take longer to cook, but as you have never done any of thi-“ “Hey, I want to learn.” He said in an insistent tone. “You chop the mushrooms I gathered, actually, no you might chop your fingers. Just sit down.” “I think I’ll go outside, thanks.” He tried opening it, but being so unexperienced with doors, I suppose, he tugged the wrong way making the door complain fiercely. I ran over to help but my hand was batted away. “I can work it out.” Arthur stated, just as a knock came from the otherside. “It is like this, Arthur.” I said, showing him. As I opened the door a very worried farmer came in. He stopped and started several times, while he marched up and down the room, tugging on a loose stitch on his shirt. “Tell me, Jones.” I gestured, leading him to a seat. As soon as he sat down it was like he suddenly knew where he was and what was around him. “Who’s that lad?” “This is Arthur, he is amazing, I've taken him in. He-“ “Does he know anything about sheep?” “I’m sure he would be quick to learn, but currently, no.” “Can he go then? I don’t like his eyes.” “Arthur, chop the mushrooms, please.” He did not respond. He just stared at me with disgust. “Arthur, what is wrong?” He just shook his head. “I am sorry Jones, but it looks like he is staying. Tell me what is wrong with your sheep.” “Well,” he sighed, glancing at Arthur, “a few, many of my ewes have just started dying off or having miscarriages and I don’t know why.” “Interesting, of course I will come down and look for myself immediately, sadly Arthur it looks like dinner is postponed.” “I don’t mind!” he smiled jumping into action “I’ll be glad to see the world.” “Sheep aren’t that interesting.” I called after him as he flung the door open and ran outside. “No, they’re annoying little buggers.” Jones muttered. ***** Just say if you think I should write more. this isn't going to be in my book anyway.