In the Kitchen
Eleanor turned at the sound of small footsteps and cocked her head. "What's got yer panties in a bunch, lil lady? Ye c'n tell me all bout it while you thrust yer frustrations on this dough." She took Eryl not so gently by the shoulders and turned her toward a mound of dough mid-kneading. "Mama always said better yer dough than yer dough-head husband," she chortled. "How right she was-- though I lucked out. Smartest man in the valley, my husband was-- prolly still is, judging by the foolishness I seen lately."
In the Barnyard
Jane quirked a brow and studied the scars with mild fascination, but made no comment. Frankly, she wasn't sure what to make of it. Was he being pragmatic, or just a sodding man? The latter seemed out of character, but you could never be entirely certain with men.
Once her hands were back on the ax, she answered. "He's good, alright. Good enough ta fool me inta thinkin I'd done 'im in." CRACK!
She grimaced. "Ten years, I been runnin on thinkin I could do the same fer others sufferin a fate what resembled my home." CRACK!
"So, what if I been wrong bout other ones? What if I been runnin roun leavin jobs half done?" CRACK!
"It's an ugly thought." CRACK!
[Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Rolling her eyes when Eryl left, Laoise let out a small sigh. She got the feeling that this was going to get a little weird. Somehow the triclops had become comfortable around Jane, but around the Flynns she still had the social bearing of a teenager at her first school dance. One could only imagine how she’d be when bedtime came around. Laoise was personally betting she’d end up on the floor before midnight. Regardless, inventory was taken care of, and she packed everything back. From out and around the corner she could hear Matron Smith talking, and found herself curious.
As she left the bedroom Laoise considered speaking up and asking about Mr. Smith, but that would involve inserting herself into the conversation between the older woman and Eryl. Staying out of it gave the triclops a chance to loosen up and get talking, and if the question got glossed over the dove would just see about fitting the question in later. Instead she contented herself to go back to what she had first done when entering the home. She perused the pictures and memorabilia. You could tell a lot about someone by how they adorned their home.
Outside, Ruarc found himself momentarily bashful. While Jane had the ax, all Ruarc was doing was standing around without a shirt on. This soon passed as the Irishman was confident Jane would think nothing of him just chopping wood like this. It was a refreshing way to work, and he was going to capitalize on it. That was unimportant though, as Jane was talking about important stuff. Taking the ax for another round, Ruarc lifted and swung.
CRACK! “You were young back then. Mistakes happen.”
CRACK! “You’ve since gotten older, and you’ve gotten better.”
CRACK! “It’s not worth second guessing everything else you’ve done.”
CRACK! “We’ll set this straight.”
Straightening up, Ruarc faced Jane and let the ax slide through his hand until he gripped just below the head. He handed the ax back.
“And if those others are only half done, then let me know and I’ll help you set them straight too.”
As she left the bedroom Laoise considered speaking up and asking about Mr. Smith, but that would involve inserting herself into the conversation between the older woman and Eryl. Staying out of it gave the triclops a chance to loosen up and get talking, and if the question got glossed over the dove would just see about fitting the question in later. Instead she contented herself to go back to what she had first done when entering the home. She perused the pictures and memorabilia. You could tell a lot about someone by how they adorned their home.
Outside, Ruarc found himself momentarily bashful. While Jane had the ax, all Ruarc was doing was standing around without a shirt on. This soon passed as the Irishman was confident Jane would think nothing of him just chopping wood like this. It was a refreshing way to work, and he was going to capitalize on it. That was unimportant though, as Jane was talking about important stuff. Taking the ax for another round, Ruarc lifted and swung.
CRACK! “You were young back then. Mistakes happen.”
CRACK! “You’ve since gotten older, and you’ve gotten better.”
CRACK! “It’s not worth second guessing everything else you’ve done.”
CRACK! “We’ll set this straight.”
Straightening up, Ruarc faced Jane and let the ax slide through his hand until he gripped just below the head. He handed the ax back.
“And if those others are only half done, then let me know and I’ll help you set them straight too.”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
Kneading dough was not Eryl's strength, being as flimsy as she was, but she was already sleeveless. Why not? She wanted to be helpful, and there were certainly some tense fibers knotting themselves up in her muscles.
"I am merely…"
SLAM.
"... wrestling with some demons, but who is not these days? My cohorts are suffering. The man out there…"
SLAM.
"... was torn away from his home as it burned, for all we know, and he is trying to carry forward in the only way he knows how… "
SLAM.
"... and his sister… Much the same. She is candid, honest, but she is being strong for him. Solid folk, druids."
Eryl powdered her hands some more, trying to press the roll a little harder.
”...The woman out there… She has saved my life, gave me a chance to redeem myself, and has always since been a fast friend..."
SLAM.
"... Now she does not talk like she used to. Something haunts her, and there is a gulf between us. My friends are hurting, and I do not know how to help them… I am an abjurer, I protect people, but I cannot protect them."
SLAM.
The triclops stood there, mastering her emotions before they could spiral. It was dangerous to get empathetic, even on just perception. Were she not careful, she'd turn into a mess or pendulate into something unpleasant. She wiped her forehead, catching a rogue tear before it could cause concern.
"So, if I heard correctly, you have a preference for well-read men, Eleanor?"
"I am merely…"
SLAM.
"... wrestling with some demons, but who is not these days? My cohorts are suffering. The man out there…"
SLAM.
"... was torn away from his home as it burned, for all we know, and he is trying to carry forward in the only way he knows how… "
SLAM.
"... and his sister… Much the same. She is candid, honest, but she is being strong for him. Solid folk, druids."
Eryl powdered her hands some more, trying to press the roll a little harder.
”...The woman out there… She has saved my life, gave me a chance to redeem myself, and has always since been a fast friend..."
SLAM.
"... Now she does not talk like she used to. Something haunts her, and there is a gulf between us. My friends are hurting, and I do not know how to help them… I am an abjurer, I protect people, but I cannot protect them."
SLAM.
The triclops stood there, mastering her emotions before they could spiral. It was dangerous to get empathetic, even on just perception. Were she not careful, she'd turn into a mess or pendulate into something unpleasant. She wiped her forehead, catching a rogue tear before it could cause concern.
"So, if I heard correctly, you have a preference for well-read men, Eleanor?"
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
In the Kitchen
Eleanor grinned and turned back to her cutting board. There was something delightful about the slam of dough on the counter, even if she wasn’t doing the kneading. She listened intently and soon the sound of a knife rocking on wood was playing up tempo alongside Eryl’s countertop drumline.
“Books’re sparse commodities roun here. John was studious; hard workin; rough hands and soft words.” There were warm tears forming at the corners of her eyes which she hurriedly wiped lest the guests see them. “Seems like ma baby girl was listenin ta one of us at least.”
In the Hall
There were few adornments, but each seemed to carry the weight of purpose and significance. The wall space between kitchen and primary bedroom held all the photos. A prepubescent Jane sitting double in the saddle with an older, sandy blond boy; a dark haired man with a big a smile on his face and a boot on the heel of a shovel half buried in otherwise unbroken soil— in black and white; Eleanor at her wedding to another dark haired man with striking resemblance to the black and white photo; two small frames of two infant children- one boy and one girl; and lastly, a group photo of six: Jane, the sandy haired boy, Eleanor, her husband, and a geriatric couple.
Opposite the photos were a rifle and the shotgun Eleanor had previously wielded to greet Jane and her companions. A moderately skilled painting of a horse at full gallop and wreath of local plants bookended the weapons.
Otherwise, the walls were quite bare here. More decorations filled the living room and kitchen but that would risk discovery by Eleanor and Eryl.
In the Barnyard
Jane nodded and wiped the fist beads of sweat from her brow. “Yer right. I know yer right.” CRACK! “Hard pill ta swallow all the same.”
She lifted the ax for her next swing then paused and faced him. “Yer a good man, Ruarc Flynn. School couldna asked fer a better headmaster an I couldna asked fer a better fren.” Then, after a realization, “An Caoranach couldna picked a better mortal, in all her years. Ye don hear it enough, but know it when I say true.” CRACK!
“I think this oughta be ‘nuff.” She looked at him with a warm smile and offered the ax. “One more round?”
Eleanor grinned and turned back to her cutting board. There was something delightful about the slam of dough on the counter, even if she wasn’t doing the kneading. She listened intently and soon the sound of a knife rocking on wood was playing up tempo alongside Eryl’s countertop drumline.
“Books’re sparse commodities roun here. John was studious; hard workin; rough hands and soft words.” There were warm tears forming at the corners of her eyes which she hurriedly wiped lest the guests see them. “Seems like ma baby girl was listenin ta one of us at least.”
In the Hall
There were few adornments, but each seemed to carry the weight of purpose and significance. The wall space between kitchen and primary bedroom held all the photos. A prepubescent Jane sitting double in the saddle with an older, sandy blond boy; a dark haired man with a big a smile on his face and a boot on the heel of a shovel half buried in otherwise unbroken soil— in black and white; Eleanor at her wedding to another dark haired man with striking resemblance to the black and white photo; two small frames of two infant children- one boy and one girl; and lastly, a group photo of six: Jane, the sandy haired boy, Eleanor, her husband, and a geriatric couple.
Opposite the photos were a rifle and the shotgun Eleanor had previously wielded to greet Jane and her companions. A moderately skilled painting of a horse at full gallop and wreath of local plants bookended the weapons.
Otherwise, the walls were quite bare here. More decorations filled the living room and kitchen but that would risk discovery by Eleanor and Eryl.
In the Barnyard
Jane nodded and wiped the fist beads of sweat from her brow. “Yer right. I know yer right.” CRACK! “Hard pill ta swallow all the same.”
She lifted the ax for her next swing then paused and faced him. “Yer a good man, Ruarc Flynn. School couldna asked fer a better headmaster an I couldna asked fer a better fren.” Then, after a realization, “An Caoranach couldna picked a better mortal, in all her years. Ye don hear it enough, but know it when I say true.” CRACK!
“I think this oughta be ‘nuff.” She looked at him with a warm smile and offered the ax. “One more round?”
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
"Certainly, Jane is possessed of an unusual strength in linguistics that is uncommon even in mages. She would never admit it, though; she is surprisingly bashful about her intellectual strengths…"
SLAM. There was less frustration in Eryl's movements now.
"... having surrounded herself in such an academic community. Even so, the man you speak of seems to live on in her in every interaction; with her friends, with her students…"
SLAM. Talking was so much easier with a task, easier when one couldn't focus on the consequences of her words.
"... Despite that iron exterior, her fiery soul and those steely blue eyes. She is fun, gentle…"
Eryl stared down at the dough she had managed to work, her palms forcing the shape out before moving it back around to a ball. Her rhythm was broken, as she looked on thoughtfully, finishing her words.
"... and warm."
At that, the woman was wistfully silent, a single hand curling over her chest.
SLAM. There was less frustration in Eryl's movements now.
"... having surrounded herself in such an academic community. Even so, the man you speak of seems to live on in her in every interaction; with her friends, with her students…"
SLAM. Talking was so much easier with a task, easier when one couldn't focus on the consequences of her words.
"... Despite that iron exterior, her fiery soul and those steely blue eyes. She is fun, gentle…"
Eryl stared down at the dough she had managed to work, her palms forcing the shape out before moving it back around to a ball. Her rhythm was broken, as she looked on thoughtfully, finishing her words.
"... and warm."
At that, the woman was wistfully silent, a single hand curling over her chest.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
There it was. Ruarc had a slight smile in appreciation for Jane’s candid kindness, but almost looked to wince at the follow up. Taking the ax, the Irishman sat it against the chopping stump and went to grab the heaviest, most dense log he could find. Letting it thunk to the stump he grabbed the ax, clenched his jaw, and slammed the ax into the log with a mighty crack; the ax head failing to split the log completely and getting stuck. Hefting both the ax and log up, his body strained against the weight and the angle. He wasn’t showing off, and Jane could see a quiet anger in his face. Ruarc wanted to break something.
CRACK!
“Spigot nearby?” Ruarc asked, looking to wash off a bit.
In the hall Laoise visually dissected the photographs. Jane always seemed to be a professional stranger, and even after ten years what she felt she knew about the Texan was mostly superficial. As such, these photos could give her solid insight. There were more over in the common space, but she didn’t want to be too obvious just yet. Off-hand she wondered if she’d be able to peek through Jane’s old room, but where this space was public, in the sense that they’d been invited inside, Jane’s room was almost certainly private. But the day was still young. For now she tried to glean relations. The man was likely the man Eryl and Eleanor had mentioned, John; Jane’s father. The picture of Jane riding double was curious. Who was the boy? His presence in the group photo meant a family member most likely. Did Jane have a brother? Part of her felt silly for having been mildly surprised to hear Jane had a father, assuming she’d just rode in from the ether one day at noon; so thinking of some brother they’d never heard mention of fascinated the familiar.
Narrowing her gaze, Laoise side eyed the kitchen; yup, Eryl and Eleanor were still talking. Straining her ears; yup, wood was still being chopped, and Ruarc's mind seemed distracted so he was probably still talking. With light steps Laoise made her way back towards the bedrooms to try and find Jane’s room. When met with two options she had to go with her gut. She might only have time to snoop around one, so she had to make it count. Truly her druid's familiar, Laoise did what Ruarc did when faced with this situation. Laoise chose the left one.
CRACK!
The log split, and Ruarc made quick work of splitting the halves. By the last split the look on his face had returned to its neutral demeanor. Whipping some sweat he moved to return the ax and collect his shirt and flannel.The commotion came from the Wilderwood. Safeholme was under attack. Ruarc was shouting orders to try and hurry the evacuation along. So much was happening. The intruders had begun to approach the campus grounds. His defenses were failing. Skarnir had already waded into the likely harrowing woods, but what of his other allies? Looking around quickly, he found Caoranach near the manor. She was looking towards the woods. Was she going to wade in there too? Fight like she had in Hawaii? She looked over, and their eyes met. I’m sorry, she mouthed. A fleeing individual passed between them, and Caoranach was gone; a raven flying away in her place. He moved through the portal with Jane shortly after. Both he and Carrie had left Safeholme, so why did he feel betrayed?
“Spigot nearby?” Ruarc asked, looking to wash off a bit.
In the hall Laoise visually dissected the photographs. Jane always seemed to be a professional stranger, and even after ten years what she felt she knew about the Texan was mostly superficial. As such, these photos could give her solid insight. There were more over in the common space, but she didn’t want to be too obvious just yet. Off-hand she wondered if she’d be able to peek through Jane’s old room, but where this space was public, in the sense that they’d been invited inside, Jane’s room was almost certainly private. But the day was still young. For now she tried to glean relations. The man was likely the man Eryl and Eleanor had mentioned, John; Jane’s father. The picture of Jane riding double was curious. Who was the boy? His presence in the group photo meant a family member most likely. Did Jane have a brother? Part of her felt silly for having been mildly surprised to hear Jane had a father, assuming she’d just rode in from the ether one day at noon; so thinking of some brother they’d never heard mention of fascinated the familiar.
Narrowing her gaze, Laoise side eyed the kitchen; yup, Eryl and Eleanor were still talking. Straining her ears; yup, wood was still being chopped, and Ruarc's mind seemed distracted so he was probably still talking. With light steps Laoise made her way back towards the bedrooms to try and find Jane’s room. When met with two options she had to go with her gut. She might only have time to snoop around one, so she had to make it count. Truly her druid's familiar, Laoise did what Ruarc did when faced with this situation. Laoise chose the left one.
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
In the Kitchen
The tears were gone, but the feelings were still running high in Eleanor Smith. She set down her knife long enough to come alongside Eryl and put a heavy hand on the slight woman's shoulder. "Thass my John, alright. I'm glad she foun erself the right folks. I haven had time ta start worryin, so it's good ta know I won have ta." She glanced down at the dough. "Not bad. Make a round loaf an toss it inna oven." She gestured with her head to her left, where the oven was running hot.
Then she pulled away and resumed her chopping. Without looking up, she asked, "What in blazes is yer fren doin?"
In the Bedroom
Laoise found the bedroom similarly sparse. It wasn't dusty, but there was that hollowness to a space that hadn't witnessed life in years. Her steps echoed more than they ought to and the light was stark. Worse yet, there were no photos nor decor on the wall. Just a full bed on the left wall flanked by two nightstands, and two dressers-- one immediately to her left, and another in the far right corner. The center of the right wall was dominated by a stove, which Eleanor had told her was shared with the adjoining room. The curtains were drawn on the window across from her, but they were sheer and permitted much of the day's growing light inside.
In the Barnyard
Jane knew productive therapy when she saw it. It was one of their commonalities: bad moods sent them in search of hard labor and intense training. She wasn't sure what she said, or what he was thinking that set him off, but it wasn't hard to narrow it down. A moment of thought was necessary to decide how she'd approach it, though. So she pointed to the spigot near the house's rear porch. Then she knelt to start bundling the chopped wood with string from the barn. She cut two cords for four bundles-- one for the kitchen and one for each bedroom.
She was halfway through tying the third when Ruarc returned from his rinse. "We'll make it right," she finally said. "We'll make things right here. Then we'll set things right back home. Ye couldn ask fer a much better team, rain er shine, thick er thin." She put on a smile that she hoped was reassuring. "Now put them shiny muscles t'work, Hercules." She gestured to two of the bundles. She'd briefly entertained fussing his masculine ego by picking up the lot of them and carrying them off without a word, but opted against it. Now, she was wishing she had, if only to pull her friend out of his gloom.
The tears were gone, but the feelings were still running high in Eleanor Smith. She set down her knife long enough to come alongside Eryl and put a heavy hand on the slight woman's shoulder. "Thass my John, alright. I'm glad she foun erself the right folks. I haven had time ta start worryin, so it's good ta know I won have ta." She glanced down at the dough. "Not bad. Make a round loaf an toss it inna oven." She gestured with her head to her left, where the oven was running hot.
Then she pulled away and resumed her chopping. Without looking up, she asked, "What in blazes is yer fren doin?"
In the Bedroom
Laoise found the bedroom similarly sparse. It wasn't dusty, but there was that hollowness to a space that hadn't witnessed life in years. Her steps echoed more than they ought to and the light was stark. Worse yet, there were no photos nor decor on the wall. Just a full bed on the left wall flanked by two nightstands, and two dressers-- one immediately to her left, and another in the far right corner. The center of the right wall was dominated by a stove, which Eleanor had told her was shared with the adjoining room. The curtains were drawn on the window across from her, but they were sheer and permitted much of the day's growing light inside.
In the Barnyard
Jane knew productive therapy when she saw it. It was one of their commonalities: bad moods sent them in search of hard labor and intense training. She wasn't sure what she said, or what he was thinking that set him off, but it wasn't hard to narrow it down. A moment of thought was necessary to decide how she'd approach it, though. So she pointed to the spigot near the house's rear porch. Then she knelt to start bundling the chopped wood with string from the barn. She cut two cords for four bundles-- one for the kitchen and one for each bedroom.
She was halfway through tying the third when Ruarc returned from his rinse. "We'll make it right," she finally said. "We'll make things right here. Then we'll set things right back home. Ye couldn ask fer a much better team, rain er shine, thick er thin." She put on a smile that she hoped was reassuring. "Now put them shiny muscles t'work, Hercules." She gestured to two of the bundles. She'd briefly entertained fussing his masculine ego by picking up the lot of them and carrying them off without a word, but opted against it. Now, she was wishing she had, if only to pull her friend out of his gloom.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
The cool water felt wonderful as Ruarc knelt down and held his head under the flowing water. Leaving himself dunked under for a time he grumbled, sighed, and then splashed the to wipe his sweat. Sweet standing stones, Texas was hot this time of year. Or at least he assumed given his singular data point for reference.
Standing up, Ruarc stretched as he pushed his hair back and gave himself one last moment to simply stand and clear his head. This had been a long day for everyone, but whatever had transpired back home was out of his control. Right now, Jane needed him, so the last thing he should be doing was losing his temper. Focus, and help Jane now. Everything else would need to wait.
When he returned to the woodpile, Jane’s words solidified Ruarc’s stance. Make things right here, first. Until then he needed to have faith that the world wouldn’t crumble just because he was waylaid in Texas. Repaying Jane’s reassuring smile with an appreciative one, his face shifted towards bashful as the cowgirl made a playful joke about his shirtlessness. Hanging his head with a self-deprecating laugh, Ruarc picked up the remaining bundles and fell into step with a dutiful “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thanks, Jane,” Ruarc offered a genuine thanks as the duo neared the house.
Back inside, Laoise cursed under her breath as she cast about for any signs of who’s room this was. While she could absolutely believe Jane would live in a stark and empty room, she couldn’t help but think ten year old Jane would have at least had some horse pictures around. Was this really just a guest room, or…
Laoise paused. That boy in the picture with Jane. If he really was her brother then surely he would have a room as well, wouldn’t he? She compiled a mental list while thinking through what information she had. Laoise and Eryl were sleeping in Eleanor’s room, which she would need to poke around as well to see if there were any overt pictures with more context clues. That left these two rooms, each with a bed that could only sleep one. There were three individuals needing beds; Ruarc, Jane, and Eleanor. One of them would need to sleep elsewhere. Perhaps Jane would be in her old room, while Eleanor took this room, and Ruarc got the couch. That would keep any potential secrets hidden. Of course, this was all predicated on the assumption that there were any secrets and Laoise wasn’t simply wanting there to be secrets.
Ears perking up, Eleanor had inquired about her whereabouts to Eryl. Laoise was short on time. Moving quietly around the bed to the far nightstand, she gambled on finding a clue in there. All the while straining her ears and readying a plan of evasion, just in case.
Standing up, Ruarc stretched as he pushed his hair back and gave himself one last moment to simply stand and clear his head. This had been a long day for everyone, but whatever had transpired back home was out of his control. Right now, Jane needed him, so the last thing he should be doing was losing his temper. Focus, and help Jane now. Everything else would need to wait.
When he returned to the woodpile, Jane’s words solidified Ruarc’s stance. Make things right here, first. Until then he needed to have faith that the world wouldn’t crumble just because he was waylaid in Texas. Repaying Jane’s reassuring smile with an appreciative one, his face shifted towards bashful as the cowgirl made a playful joke about his shirtlessness. Hanging his head with a self-deprecating laugh, Ruarc picked up the remaining bundles and fell into step with a dutiful “Yes, ma’am.”
“Thanks, Jane,” Ruarc offered a genuine thanks as the duo neared the house.
Back inside, Laoise cursed under her breath as she cast about for any signs of who’s room this was. While she could absolutely believe Jane would live in a stark and empty room, she couldn’t help but think ten year old Jane would have at least had some horse pictures around. Was this really just a guest room, or…
Laoise paused. That boy in the picture with Jane. If he really was her brother then surely he would have a room as well, wouldn’t he? She compiled a mental list while thinking through what information she had. Laoise and Eryl were sleeping in Eleanor’s room, which she would need to poke around as well to see if there were any overt pictures with more context clues. That left these two rooms, each with a bed that could only sleep one. There were three individuals needing beds; Ruarc, Jane, and Eleanor. One of them would need to sleep elsewhere. Perhaps Jane would be in her old room, while Eleanor took this room, and Ruarc got the couch. That would keep any potential secrets hidden. Of course, this was all predicated on the assumption that there were any secrets and Laoise wasn’t simply wanting there to be secrets.
Ears perking up, Eleanor had inquired about her whereabouts to Eryl. Laoise was short on time. Moving quietly around the bed to the far nightstand, she gambled on finding a clue in there. All the while straining her ears and readying a plan of evasion, just in case.
Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
"Laoise? I would not find cause for worry. Quite probable that she is just taking time for herself," said Eryl aloud as she dutifully carried out her task of prepping the bread, "One must take the appropriate measures to accommodate one's emotions."
Having easily dismissed Laoise's absence with utter trust and faith, she rolled the dough and set it center mass on a pan. She walked over to the oven, and grabbed a near-by rag to open the door and check the heat. Satisfied with the temperature, she set the tray inside and closed the door.
"Eleanor."
With her job done, Eryl stood, checking her watch for the time and getting an idea for when it would need to come out.
"Do you take no exception to this?"
She turned, only brave enough to face Jane's mother half-on.
"To this plan? To Jane doing this deed? To this land she feels responsible, but she is, by no means obliged. Our party sought every opinion but yours."
Having easily dismissed Laoise's absence with utter trust and faith, she rolled the dough and set it center mass on a pan. She walked over to the oven, and grabbed a near-by rag to open the door and check the heat. Satisfied with the temperature, she set the tray inside and closed the door.
"Eleanor."
With her job done, Eryl stood, checking her watch for the time and getting an idea for when it would need to come out.
"Do you take no exception to this?"
She turned, only brave enough to face Jane's mother half-on.
"To this plan? To Jane doing this deed? To this land she feels responsible, but she is, by no means obliged. Our party sought every opinion but yours."
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Mr. Blackbird Lore
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Re: [Texas] Chapter 2.1: You Shouldn't Have Come Back
In the Kitchen
Eleanor scraped vegetables from a cutting board into the stock pot atop the stove. Her ears perked up at the change of tone in Eryl's voice. She sighed as she turned to face the triclops and brushed her hands on her shirt. "Look, if she's as much o John as we jus discussed, it don matter if I take exception. She got a job ta do-- fix a job what she only half finished the first time." She sighed again, weary. "No, I don want ma daughter ta go roun fightin warlocks and devils. I wan er ta stay home an help me, an rebuild our horse pen. Live a quiet life wi me. But she sure as hell ain't gon come roun if erry time she does, all she hears is worry an want.
"So y'all keep er safe. Bring er back ta me-- but make sure that goddamn man-devil is finished. He's stole a lot more than a few weak minds roun here."
In the Bedroom
The clues, if that's what they were, left much to be desired. An old watch with leather wristband that no longer ticked, a pile of rubber bands, and another copy of the picture of Jane sitting double with the sandy-haired boy. The sound of the back door opening caught her ear as she finished assessing these things.
In the Barnyard
"Yer welcome, an say thankee." She elbowed the door latch to let them back into the house and cut into the primary bedroom to deliver her first bundle. "Jus toss those in the bedrooms by the stoves," she called over her shoulder.
Eleanor scraped vegetables from a cutting board into the stock pot atop the stove. Her ears perked up at the change of tone in Eryl's voice. She sighed as she turned to face the triclops and brushed her hands on her shirt. "Look, if she's as much o John as we jus discussed, it don matter if I take exception. She got a job ta do-- fix a job what she only half finished the first time." She sighed again, weary. "No, I don want ma daughter ta go roun fightin warlocks and devils. I wan er ta stay home an help me, an rebuild our horse pen. Live a quiet life wi me. But she sure as hell ain't gon come roun if erry time she does, all she hears is worry an want.
"So y'all keep er safe. Bring er back ta me-- but make sure that goddamn man-devil is finished. He's stole a lot more than a few weak minds roun here."
In the Bedroom
The clues, if that's what they were, left much to be desired. An old watch with leather wristband that no longer ticked, a pile of rubber bands, and another copy of the picture of Jane sitting double with the sandy-haired boy. The sound of the back door opening caught her ear as she finished assessing these things.
In the Barnyard
"Yer welcome, an say thankee." She elbowed the door latch to let them back into the house and cut into the primary bedroom to deliver her first bundle. "Jus toss those in the bedrooms by the stoves," she called over her shoulder.