[Daron]
Daron looked Rudolpho square in his expressive brown eyes. "I was worried about _you_. Things can be replaced. People _can't_." -One confidence deserves another, Pa used to say..- "Faith, but I understand _that_ all too well..." She wiped her eyes on the rough green wool of her sleeve. "I lost my parents a year ago. My mother was killed; my father died of a broken heart. And I don't know where my brother Dillon is, if he's still alive, or..."
-Please, let Dillon be all right!- she silently
prayed. She snuffled and wiped her runny nose on her sleeve.
"And I said what I meant and meant what I said. You can have the
other shirt. Don't think I have anything else that'll fit you, yet.
But I'll see what I can do; I'm pretty handy with a needle..." She
held out a hand smudged with charcoal to him. "Friends?"
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho looked up at her. He had not had anyone want to befriend
him so quickly. Mostly they just shooed him away. She looked
like she meant it though, and who knew this might lead to some new adventures.
He extended a small hand. "Friends. I'm sorry about your parents
too. I'm pretty good with clothes and that sort of thing too," he
said, smiling enigmatically. "Are you looking for your brother then?"
[Daron]
Daron firmly shook hands with Rudolpho. She swallowed carefully before speaking, "Yes, I am. Not to be rude, but could we please go back inside? I need to see if my stuff's still safe." -And my money, too..- "You look fine, in case you're wondering ... come along then. If my money's still there, I'll treat you to something completely gooey and sweet." -Like _you_ are, young man...though you try so hard to hide it...- "Okay?"
[Rudolpho]
"Sure, let's go. I don't think you need to treat me to anything sweet though. I had the cookies and I am kinda full. Besides, I have some money too." The mischievous look returned to his face and his eyes once again twinkled not with tears, but with an inner light that came from his people. When they approached the door Rudolpho opened it and stopped waiting for Daron to proceed before him.
[Inside the Inn]
[Thomis/Khanndie]
By this time, Thomis had tested the brandy that the bartender had set before him, and nodded in satisfaction. "You are right, I do need it." Unconsciously, he traced the scar across the bridge of his nose, and half-smiled at the thought of how he had gotten it. One glass would be more than enough, though -- Thomis Parch had never been one to over-imbibe. He half-turned back to consider the common room, taking in the rather large dog snoozing in the corner, and the way the waitress dodged and weaved through the tables.
"He come back in yet?" Khanndie asked as she dropped her tray back onto the bar-top. When Rudolpho had scurried out the door, she almost had pushed her way through the exit after him, but the artist woman -- Daron? -- had beaten her to it. She could go only so far in "adopting" strays, and ducking out of the tavern hadn't seemed like a good idea.
"Brandy?" she commented to the strange man at the bar, taking in his short-cropped graying dark hair and brown eyes. And that scar. Something about the even way he returned her gaze made Khanndie decide he wasn't one to try to jolly along too much. "Make sure you get some of the stew," she added, lifting her tray again after M'eyeke had loaded it down again with more drinks and bowls and turning to make another pass around the room.
Thomis nodded again at the bartender in thanks, making sure to leave a good tip, and made his own way back to Laurelyn's table. Just as he pulled his chair out and sat down, the large fellow named Stan in the corner let out a bellow and pushed his own seat away from his table. "Might be a bit of trouble," Thomis murmured to Laurelyn, as the rather drunken man stood, swaying, and started to pat down his vest and trousers while half-incoherently mumbling something about how his money had to be somewhere if it wasn't in his money-pouch.
[M'eyeke]
"Damn straight" he replied to the man's admission that he needed the drink. He nodded to the man as he left him the tip although he had not expected one. The man did not seem to be in the mood to talk so he left him alone. M'eyeke's attention was soon attracted to the commotion Stan was making. "Hey! Keep it down over there Stan. You probably drank away the rest of your money as always. Why dontcha go home to your wife and kids and leave the rest of the patrons in peace?" He jerked his head at the door slightly to Khanndie when Rudolpho and Daron re-entered the bar.
[Laurelyn]
"I think you're right," Laurelyn whispered back, "But at least it's more normal." She reached under the table to lift the Pup's backpack up - in case the drunken gentleman got more rowdy. Just as she lifted the pack she muttered, "Sweet...." Laurelyn could feel the shift of the Pup's weight and had the sinking suspicion what the portended.
The Pup fell out the opening it had been working on and with a delighted "yip!" scrambled out of reach of Laurelyn's swift grasp.
"The Pup's loose," Laurelyn declared to Thomis and Jacques, barely avoiding banging her head on the underside of the table as she straightened.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho followed Daron into the bar in time to see Stan stand. He had realized that his money pouch was now empty. He smiled a little as the bar tender made an appropriate rationalization for where the money had gone. Now, unless they would put drinks on a tab for him, the drunk would have to go home. Rudolpho frowned when M'eyeke metioned he had a wife and kids. He should not be acting this way if he had a family at home. Rudolpho hung close to Daron anyway. Since he was younger, if push came to shove, he would be defended by the older people here. -Sometimes things just have a way of working out.-
[Daron]
Daron was touched by Rudolpho's courteous gesture. Unusual in someone his age. -Brendan was more likely to slam the door in your face! Faith, but that speaks well of Rudolpho's mother. She raised him well...- She smiled warmly at him. "Thank you for holding the door, Rudolpho." She leaned over and whispered in the boy's ear, "I saw what you did earlier. I'm not saying I _approve_--but that lout deserved it." An equally mischievous look lit her face and eyes, making her appear much younger than her nineteen winters. "Come along, then..."
As Daron entered the Sea Wench, she hoped Keir and Pierre were still inside, so she could apologize to them for her hasty departure. Honorbound to keep her promise to Rudolpho, she silently prayed for her belongings to still be where she left them. If they weren't--well, she would figure out what to do then.
-No use borrowing trouble!- she thought, -Faith, but you've got enough of _that_ already!-
Then an expression of mixed pain and fear crossed Daron's face. She pulled Rudolpho aside before they could go in further.
"Please, give me the money you took--_now_! Don't argue!" she whispered urgently. "I'll give it back after Stan leaves. _Please_!"
[Pup]
A round-bellied, flopping-earred pup ran past and dexterously tangled itself around Stan's unsteady legs before dashing under a nearby table.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho blinked. He put on his best surprised face. -I must be slipping if she saw me. Guess I have to try harder next time.- "What money?" he whispered back. "I just helped him when he fell before. He is awfully drunk you know." He noticed the puppy dashing under Stan's legs. Seeing it for a great distraction Rudolpho pointed at the puppy. "Uh-Oh!"
[Daron]
Daron recognized Rudolpho's attempt to divert attention from the subject at hand all too well. Brendan had tried that one often, especially when he'd spoiled one of her pictures. Sighing, she looked at Rudolpho with as much authority as she could muster, despite her growing fear that Stan would soon realize that he had his money _before_ Rudolpho bumped into him, and not afterwards.
"You didn't have a coin or two to your name
when you first came in here; that's the impression you gave, anyway,"
she added hastily, hoping he wouldn't think she picked up on _that_ thought,
too. She was just very good at noticing details about people, and
how they acted, which came from having artistic talent. Nothing more.
"You bump into that lout Stan, making sure you get all tangled up with
him. He discovers his money's missing. And now you have this
look like the cat swallowing the canary, saying you have 'some money too'.
Faith, but what am I supposed to think?" She sighed again.
"I hope he thinks he's drunk up his money, for our sake!"
[Rudolpho]
The young boy was not used to taking orders from people, especially not in this tone. Before he could stop himself he found himself answering back. "I can take care of myself. Don't you worry. I won't let you get in trouble over anything. Let him chase me if he can. I've faced worse than him. Besides he is too drunk to know which way is up." He realized his chin was jutting out and his voice was rising. -Calm down. She worries about you and doesn't know any better.- Rudolpho sighed and the glint returned to his eyes. "He should be home with his family. If he doesn't have money to drink he has to go home." Rudolpho turned to go back to the table. "Act natural. Looks can be deceiving you know." He grinned and walked back to the table with his previous sense of self importance.
[Jacques]
Jacques groaned audibly as the pup whipped out of its safe pack and galloped across the room. The drunk over where the animal was heading was already in a bad enough state. The prospect of the animal tripping him and making things even worse brought Jacques to his feet - bells ringing.
The magic show was definitely off.
"Come here, fiend!" he called across the tavern. "Heel boy!"
The puppy paid no attention and yapped happily to itself as it snuffled at a wonderful new smell it had discovered under the table.
[Daron]
Daron sighed. She stuffed her hands
into her pants pockets to disguise their trembling and walked as calmly
as she could back to her table. She noticed with relief that, not
only were Keir and Pierre still sitting there, her possessions were where
she left them. She retrieved her sack near her upturned chair, set
the chair back in place, and sat down.
"Gentlemen, I am truly sorry for my hasty exit a few moments ago!" She indicated Rudolpho with a shrug. "He reminds me of my favorite cousin, Brendan." She leaned towards Keir. "Besides, he needs someone to look after him," she confided.
Straightening up and rummaging through the sack, Daron soon found what she was looking for.
"Here you go, Rudolpho," she grinned. "As I promised." She handed the twin to her green wool shirt over to the boy. "If you'll give me a minute to settle back, I'll do that portrait of you I promised."
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho smiled sweetly as Daron likened him to her cousin which quickly changed to a half frown of protest. "I do not. I can take care of myself." Realizing he was about to take the shirt he added, "But I do accept presents." He turned to Daron. "Thank you for the shirt. It is very kind of you to share your supplies." He shrugged on the shirt which was big in the body and the sleeves were half again as long as his arms. He tucked the shirt in and rolled up the sleeves. "Fits great." He smiled. -I'll have to "alter" this later.-
His attention was caught by the antics of the puppy and the people trying to capture him. "If you folks will excuse my constant disappearances, I should probably help those people get their puppy back." He turned and started walking towards the table under which the puppy had ducked while reaching into a pocket. He took out one of the cookies which he had managed to "save for later" and broke it in half. Rudolpho made noises that sounded like a half bark half growl to the dog. ~Come here. Why are you running around like that? Want a cookie?~ Rudopho waited for the puppy to respond.
[Thomis]
The Oath-bound had simply set his brandy aside as Laurelyn had scrambled after the puppy and Jacques had stood up to call the animal back to him. The pup tangled itself in Stan's legs, sending the large man stumbling backwards with a yelp of surprise as if he had just been attacked by a dark fiend from the depths of hell. Somehow, the drunk managed to catch his balance, and resumed the search of his clothing while the young boy knelt under the table making strange noises to the puppy.
[Keir]
Keir raised his bushy eyebrows at Daron, then shook his head chuckling. He wasn't certain who needed more looking after, the young purse-snatcher, Daron or the wayward puppy. He'd been too startled to act when it scurried past but had his forked staff ready should it come by again. More than one farmer's dog had found itself pinned to the ground when it thought it had easy prey to chase and the move was now automatic. It didn't hurt them of course, except their pride, and once they gave up any hope of escape and began whimpering he'd let them go. Some needed a swift swat for encouragement but usually they ran, tail between legs.
[Stan]
"Melber'll kill me," Stan mumbled, patting down his pockets randomly, with no real system to his search. "Oh man, Melber'll kill me, I drunk it all down." He collapsed against the bar, sliding down to the floor to fix an unfocused stare on the boy wooing the small dog. "Two days er wages, all gone." The big man might have been about to cry, his eyes were so red; or he might have been about to pass out.
It was the latter. Stan's head tilted forward, and with a solid <thump> he slumped over to one side.
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho paused in his effort to entice the young pup and looked up at Stan with a mix of different emotions on his face. He felt somewhat sorry for the man having lost two days wages (if it really was two days wages) so quickly. It seemed though that he was well on his way to doing that anyway. And what was he doing here if he could be putting that money to better uses. -I wonder if I should put the money back. Rudolpho slipped his hand in his pocket and silently surveyed its contents. It did not seem to him that it was heavy enough to constitute two days worth of wages. In fact, it was almost gone as it was. Any sympathy Rudolpho felt for the drunken slob evaporated like the alcohol he had just swallowed.
Rudolpho resumed enticing the pup until he came close enough to be scooped up. He triumphantly stood up and returned the pup to Laurelyn. "I think this little guy belongs to you. He seems to like cookies."
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn took the escapee into her arms,
and was rewarded with a thorough chin washing. She smiled over the wiggling
pup and said, "Thank you." She drank in the young lad's scruffy appearance
and lively, mischievous eyes - a millenia away from children-soldiers and
the babes whose souls had been twisted by the horror they saw or felt.
"I have no doubt ....," she stopped and looked over at Jacques, "That 'Fiend'
likes cookies."
She tried to reach into her pouch while
the Pup squirmed, but she finally asked the jester, "Mind trying to get
this one back into his...her? ....pack?
[Jacques]
"I've no doubt that the animal likes _anything_,"
muttered Jacques, trying to keep the pup from licking across his face as
he took it from Laurelyn.
[Laurelyn]
Once relieved of her armload she pulled out a couple of decent coins and handed them to the boy. "You might need to replenish your cookie stock," she said. Her smile touched her blue eyes and she looked over at Thomis to let him know that in more ways than one life was returning to "normal."
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho smiled at the woman. "No reward is neccessary," he said,
taking the coins. "I'm sure I'll come across some more cookies sooner
or later. If you'll excuse me, I should really go join my new found
friends over there." Rudolpho indicated the table with a nod of his
head. he looked back at the puppy. "Stay." With that
he walked over to the bar and stood balanced on a leg of the nearest stool.
"Sir, I couldn't help but notice the drunk pass out over there. He
was muttering something about drinking away all hims money. Would
you be so kind as to save this for him in case he needs to hire a ride
some?" Rudolpho put the newly acquired coins on the bar. "Thank
you very much." He hopped down again, went back to the table, sat
in his chair and began to finish his meal. "You can draw me now if you
want to."
[Khanndie]
Khanndie scooped the coins up with a quick flick of her wrist and stooped
to drop them into the unconscious Stan's vest pocket. "I'll send
someone out to Melba and tell 'er to come pick 'im up again." She
said it to M'eyeke as if they both were well-familiar with the routine,
and in less than a minute one of the younger patrons of the bar, a boy
barely out of his teens with an inability to look much above Khanndie's
neckline, had sped out the door to notify Stan's wife that her husband
needed to be carted away again.
[Jacques]
Slipping the puppy back into his pack was
surprisingly easy for Jacques. Perhaps the animal considered that it'd
had enough fun for now and simply wanted to rest. Jacques wasn't so sure
- its past history wasn't exactly encouraging.
"You listen to the kid, boy, and stay put,"
he admonished with a waggling finger.
The pup yapped a couple of times, and then
yawned hugely.
"And none of that either."
A tired snuffling sound was his only reply
as the pup curled into a ball and promptly fell asleep.
Jacques wished he could do the same, and
returned to his chair at the table trying to stifle his own yawn.
[Daron]
Daron watched Rudolpho take money from
the apparent owner of the puppy. -How _dare_ she call that fine animal
"Fiend"?!- she thought indignantly. -Faith, but he's a lively young one!
Not unlike Rudolpho...- She smiled at _that_ thought.
Her smile intensified when she saw Rudolpho
walk over to the bar and hand the reward money over to the bartender, with
an explanation as to how the money was to be used. -Faith, but he's
learning! I'm proud of him!-
Daron barely got her supplies together,
and calmed her expression, before Rudolpho returned to the table.
Now only her eyes betrayed her pride in him.
"Of course I want to do it, Rudolpho."
Her dark brow wrinkled with concentration as she prepared to sketch.
"I'll do my best..." Her charcoal glided on the paper while she drew.
On an impulse, she added an additional element to the portrait.
Satisfied with her handiwork, Daron showed
the portrait to Rudolpho for his approval. Rendered on the page was
the mischievous boy, full of life and happiness, along with a striking
likeness of the puppy he'd befriended a few moments ago.
"What do you think?"
[Rudolpho]
The little gypsy looked over the picture Daron had just drawn critically.
He thought it looked very nice and could not find fault with it.
He looked up at Daron with the thoughtful look on his face enough to worry
her for just a second. He then broke into a wide smile. "I
think it's great! You could probably even sell it for a good price.
You think you will? He finished off the food on his late and wiped
his mouth. "So what are you all gathered for? Where are you
going? Are you going on a quest? How come you two are so quiet?"
[Khanndie/Thomis]
Khanndie made her way over to Laurelyn's table once again, and paused to
scratch behind the sleeping puppy's ears. The animal turned over
in its sleep, still safely inside the backpack on one of the wooden chairs.
"Fred," she finally said, "you could name 'im Fred." Leaving the
pup to dream of chasing cookies, she turned to start unloading her tray,
setting lager and steak before the jester and bowls of steaming stew before
Thomis and Laurelyn. "You need a refill?"
Thomis lifted his still 3/4-full glass and shook his head. "No, thank
you." His brown eyes swept over the room again; things had settled
down once the pup had been restrained and Stan pushed to one side to snore
noisily, but quite contentedly on his own. From the corner of his
vision, he watched the waitress -- a pretty young woman, with thick red
hair with a certain harshness to it that told him the color most likely
came straight from a bottle. Unlike Laurelyn's own auburn tresses,
he thought, turning his gaze back to the storyteller.
That was when he caught himself, one corner of his mouth turning upwards
in amusement. Gods, how Mesani I'Se would chuckle to hear her Oath-bound,
Thomis Parch, thinking of Hillrover's "auburn tresses." He might
has well have been a schoolboy again, even more callow than Drywen himself,
mooning over a girl in pig-tails.
That was when he noticed the waitress following his gaze to Laurelyn's
face, then back again. Khanndie herself smiled, just a bit, and raised
one eyebrow with just a hint of the spirited amusement he would have seen
in Mesani if his old friend had been there to witness the scene. At least
Khanndie showed enough restraint not to remark upon it, just winked a bit
and then turned to the other two at the table to ask if they needed anything
else.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn caught the waitress's good-humored
wink at Thomis, and the storyteller hoped she wasn't blushing. -Like a
blessed wee girl,- she thought, and almost laughed aloud - not in mockery
but in cheer. She had flirted with many a fine lord, and more than a few
healthy sailors. And Degda - the troubadour she apprenticed to had been
her first lover - oh so many years ago. But in all those times - be they
at court or with traveling companions upon the road, Laurelyn had never
found her heart moved - like it had been by Thomis.
She lowered her eyes while she took a spoonfull
of stew and reflected back. Perhaps, she decided, it was because she had
never been in a situation where her very soul had been tested and each
day meant living in the sword's edge. And perhaps it was because she had
never expected to find someone who was an island in the middle of the madness
- someone who had walked that sword's edge with her. It was that - and
more, she also decided as she looked up and again looked at Thomis. She
was a little in awe of his composure and more than a little in awe at how
deep her feelings were becoming for him.
"Good stew," she murmured.
[Daron]
Daron looked at Rudolpho. "No, _this_
one belongs to you. I can always do another one to sell--with your
permission, of course. I'm really glad you like it!"
She picked up her pad and charcoal, and
began to work on another portrait. Finishing the sketch, she soon
flipped to the next sheet. After much concentrated effort, she pulled the
sheets free and turned them towards Keir and Pierre with a shy grin.
On one was a drawing of Keir; the other held a portrait of Pierre.
Somehow, she managed to capture them in a happier frame of mind than either
presently showed.
"Do you like it?" she asked hopefully.
[Pierre]
Pierre smiled gently. "I love it," he whispered,
honestly.
[Daron]
Daron fairly glowed under Pierre's praise
of her work. She handed the sheet to him. "It's yours...if
you want it..." She looked Keir square in the eye. "That goes
for you, too, friend..." she said with a grin.
[Pierre]
"Thank you," Pierre whispered, and placed
the sheet on the table in front of him, next to the one of Abigail, for
he did not wish to fold either of them and cause a crease. He would bring
them back to his house later.
[Jacques]
Jacques attacked the steak with some relish.
And a little sauce. He didn't entirely trust the chef and considered some
extra embellishments might cover for any lack of finesse in the cooking
department.
He took a long drink from the lager and
grunted in surprise. It wasn't bad. Not half as awful as he'd been anticipating.
The puppy made a soft yipping sound in
its sleep, doubtless chasing rabbits in its dreams - and probably somewhat
smaller ones than that encounter earlier. Either that, or its dream-self
was rather more brave.
"Should we call you Fred, boy?" he asked
quietly. And shook his head as the pup quieted. "I guess not." Laurelyn
clearly considered the animal's name to be Fiend, and though he'd intended
it as a description rather than a name, Jacques figured it fit. In a bizarre
and entirely irreverant manner, that suited the jester just fine.
'Fiend' yipped again quietly and then snuffled
back into whatever dream he was engaged in.
Jacques took another long drink from the
jug of lager, and winked outrageously at the red-haired waitress. The pup
wasn't the only one with dreams...
[Khanndie]
Khanndie, one table over, winked back. It was part of the routine,
and here in the Sea Wench, most of the patrons understood that; the ones
like Stan were the exception -- hell, even Stan understood it at the beginning
of the evening, before he slid too far into his cups. The jester, for all
his outlandish costuming, didn't seem like the one to grope without invitation.
Then again, the waitress reminded herself, he didn't seem to be drunk yet,
so that could change with a few more lagers.
[Daron]
"_I'd_ just as soon call that fine pup
Phideaux. Suits him," Daron muttered to no one in particular.
Though she hoped his owner and the gentleman with the outrageous outfit
would take the hint. "Calling him "Fiend", indeed! An insult!"
she muttered again.
[Pierre]
Pierre sipped the coffee he had ordered
and looked from Daron to the table with the puppy. "There's a reason,"
he said, almost to himself, not quite thinking about the puppy. "There
has to be. It might not make sense, but there's always a reason."
[Daron]
Daron snorted her disapproval. "'Make
sense' it most certainly does not_! You call someone 'Fiend' and they'll
live up to it!" she insisted. "And it's such a cute, innocent, misunderstood
puppy, too..."
[Pierre]
Pierre stared into the blackness of his
drink. His words were barely above a whisper. "It may seem that way," he
whispered, sadly. Pierre then turned to stare at Daron. "Perhaps you should
talk to her."
[Jacques]
With a sigh, Jacques returned to his steak.
The way the waitress had winked at him had clearly imposed a limit on what
was expected - and available. He took another pull at the lager and fervently
hoped that the magic show _was_ cancelled. He'd be in no state to do any
prestidigitation after a few more drinks. Even if he knew what the word
meant.
The pup snuffled again in its sleep, almost
as though it was laughing at someone.
"Shut up boy," growled Jacques under his
breath. "Or you want me to take the young lady up on her suggestion?"
The pup whined briefly, and then settled
back into its quiet sleep.
Jacques took a fourth - or was it fifth,
he was blessedly beginning to lose count - pull at the lager, and cursed
silently. Not only was he talking to the animal and acting as though it
understood him, but he was doing it while it was _asleep_ as well.
[Daron]
Daron stood up. A determined look lit her features.
"I think I will, at that, Pierre. Excuse me, all..." She walked over to the neighboring table. "Pardon me for asking," Daron said to the auburn-haired woman, "but why is such a sweet, delightful puppy being saddled with the name of 'Fiend'?"
[Jacques & fiend]
Swallowing another mouthful of lager, Jacques looked up - bells ringing.
The pup gave a yawn in its backpack and opened one eye sleepily. It yawned again, and opened the other. Then, after a short stretch, it opened both at the same time. However, it made no other noise, and sat watching Daron and Laurelyn curiously.
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn was just tired enough from the road to let a "who me" expression show on her face as she looked up at the woman who had come to their table. The dark-haired young woman didn't appear drunk - so Laurelyn slipped the newcomer into the "concerned citizen" category.
She shifted in her chair to face the woman, and said, "Names don't always have to denote temperament." Laurelyn decided against telling the entire history of why "Beast" fitted a certain bay hunter. Instead she went with an equally true tale as she thought of Lord Kiever's troubadour, Degda, and the man's dog. "A good friend of mine," she said, "Had a Setter he - for some reason unknown to me - named 'Peace.' _That_ dog was anything but 'peaceful' - every stranger she saw she'd attack."
The storyteller decided not to go into the small detail that the dog had a knack for going for men's more vital parts. Nor did she wish to start a discussion by pointing out that most puppies spend the first two or three years being absolute imps. There were two reasons she didn't want to enter that discussion; the first being that she was tired, and the second was that it would remind her of her days with Jem.
[Daron]
Daron digested Laurelyn's words. She nodded in agreement.
"Faith, but I know what you mean indeed. I had a cousin named Casey who, far from being brave like her name means, was scared of her own shadow!" Her artist's eye noted Laurelyn's fatigue. "Please forgive me for blathering on like I am! Good day, ma'am."
[Laurelyn]
"Good evening, to you then," Laurelyn said, trying to smile but fighting a yawn. She decided to finish her stew - otherwise she might just be asleep.
[Daron]
As Daron walked back to her table, she felt a familiar "tingle" in her fingertips. -Not again!- she thought. She sat down and retrieved her artist's tools. Sketching furiously until the "urge" subsided, she soon looked at a drawing of another puppy. -Faith, but does this belong to _her_? And do I show it to her? Or should I keep it to myself?-
Daron wrestled with this mental dilemma, knowing that she might upset the woman, like she had Pierre, Keir and Rudolpho, if she showed the picture to her. And Daron didn't _want_ to do that. Not if she could help it...
[Rudolpho]
Rudolpho looked at the portrait and tried to figure out the woman's logic. -She pays for my mean in exchange for being able to draw me. Then she turns around and wants to give me the portrait. How does she gain anything on this deal? Its a nice picture and all but..- Rudolpho voiced the next part of this thoughts. "Its a great picture thank you, but..." he fidgeted "can I have the other picture you drew? The one of my..mother?" He noticed that she was feverishly drawing again. She was drawing a picture of a dog and by her expression, one she had never seen before. -She's doing it again.- He watched as she cast a few glances over at the other table where the woman she had just spoken sat. "I think you should give her the picture. You might be worried it will hurt her or something but i think you should anyway. After the intial shock, people are glad to have a reminder of those they cared..er..care about."
[Laurelyn]
Laurelyn gave up on the stew - good though
it was. She looked at Thomis, then at Jacques, and said, "Good gentlemen
tis time I was off to bed - before I get too cozy with this stew." She
smiled and stood up. "May the night winds bring you gentle dreams."