Broken Nose and Bottle Necks (March 3010) - [Swithin]
Jan 17, 2019 21:16:12 GMT -5
Post by Adelais on Jan 17, 2019 21:16:12 GMT -5
Well, he finally stopped whacking that confounded axe. It was a small consolation, though Adelais could feel the fire in her stomach prickle as he smiled up at her. Why in the shadows of Meduseld was the man smiling? He was making enough racket at dawn to disturb half of Edoras!
“What in—?” The woman started to demand; what was he doing there? Why was he chopping wood outside her home? Truthfully, many questions blazed and bubbled upon her tongue, but her words were cut off before she could truly breathe them life.
“How’s your face feeling? Any better?”
She would have flared her nostrils, but it hurt to even think about it. Instead, the woman’s hands lifted to settle upon her hips. “It feels like I got kicked in the face, I’ll have you know—and if you keep that work up the horses in my head are going to break my skull!”
Adelais took a step forward, intent on grabbing grandfather’s axe from the redhead’s hands and setting it back down where it belonged, but a form shot right into view and started shouting loud enough her steps hitched. “Keep it down!” The woman growled. She recognized the face of the man, though it took a moment of fishing through her stupor to bring to mind his name. Oswin, Swithin’s brother.
“You didn’t come home!”
The words trilled out from Oswin’s lips kept going, tongue wagging exuberantly as he spoke on tan hides and the like. Adelais, though, could only recall the first part. It very well rumbled in her skull like a herd of wild horses, making her feel ill and more sore the longer she held her breath. “Didn’t come home?” She repeated in a mumble to herself.
Her blue eyes ignited into a forge’s fire, and she looked to Swithin, intent on beginning to shout louder than the howling forces of the Starkhorn. Oswin, though, suddenly seemed to notice her. He rolled up his sleeves, face frowning stern. Rough with her? Was…that what had happened to her furniture?
“Was this you?” Adelais roared, pointing to her face. She could recall long red hair, she had thought of Darelle—Swithin, though, also had fiery locks. And they were just about the same confounded length. “You stayed—Eorl’s testi—put down grandfather’s axe! Did you what? Take it to all the furniture inside, too? After you…” Well, she could not recall him in her bed, but something had happened. “What in bloody Edoras are you doing here?”
“What in—?” The woman started to demand; what was he doing there? Why was he chopping wood outside her home? Truthfully, many questions blazed and bubbled upon her tongue, but her words were cut off before she could truly breathe them life.
“How’s your face feeling? Any better?”
She would have flared her nostrils, but it hurt to even think about it. Instead, the woman’s hands lifted to settle upon her hips. “It feels like I got kicked in the face, I’ll have you know—and if you keep that work up the horses in my head are going to break my skull!”
Adelais took a step forward, intent on grabbing grandfather’s axe from the redhead’s hands and setting it back down where it belonged, but a form shot right into view and started shouting loud enough her steps hitched. “Keep it down!” The woman growled. She recognized the face of the man, though it took a moment of fishing through her stupor to bring to mind his name. Oswin, Swithin’s brother.
“You didn’t come home!”
The words trilled out from Oswin’s lips kept going, tongue wagging exuberantly as he spoke on tan hides and the like. Adelais, though, could only recall the first part. It very well rumbled in her skull like a herd of wild horses, making her feel ill and more sore the longer she held her breath. “Didn’t come home?” She repeated in a mumble to herself.
Her blue eyes ignited into a forge’s fire, and she looked to Swithin, intent on beginning to shout louder than the howling forces of the Starkhorn. Oswin, though, suddenly seemed to notice her. He rolled up his sleeves, face frowning stern. Rough with her? Was…that what had happened to her furniture?
“Was this you?” Adelais roared, pointing to her face. She could recall long red hair, she had thought of Darelle—Swithin, though, also had fiery locks. And they were just about the same confounded length. “You stayed—Eorl’s testi—put down grandfather’s axe! Did you what? Take it to all the furniture inside, too? After you…” Well, she could not recall him in her bed, but something had happened. “What in bloody Edoras are you doing here?”