Shrugging, he replies. "My pa says that's just how things are." as his eyes drift back toward the edge of the clearing around the cabin. "More th' fool me," he adds in an undertone, "for thinkin' she cared." He takes a deep breath, then returns his attention to Immalaine. He opens his mouth, then pauses, trying to come to terms with all the words that she's just spilled out.
Staring at the ground, she reaches out and picks up a small stone, rubbing it between her thumb and finger. "What do ye mean? Ye don't have t' feel foolish fer carin' 'bout someone, thinkin' they care. Th' lack o' it, that were all her. An' if she couldna see what she had," she tosses the stone away, "then t'is her loss, I reckon."
Rastellion purses his lips. "You're sweet t' say it, Immalaine ... but mebbe my pa's right. Carin' for someone doesn't put food on th' table, and countin' stars won't raise a babe. A fellow's got t' have land if he's t' provide - land or a craft or a job - an' all th' sweet feelings in th' world don't make up for that." He nods, as much to himself now as her. "Tha's why I've got t' get th' new farm. Else I"m just a homeless boy with nothin' t' offer." He looks back out toward the sparse downs, knowing that orcs roam them now, as well as lynx and bear. "Jus' wish I could convince him t' let me find a small farm in Breeland. Makes no sense t' keep farmin' up here... we're damn lucky t'have found someone t' buy the place at all!" He shakes his head. "But nothin will do 'cept to keep farmin' up here." He adds, in a fair imitation of his father's reedy voice, "This family's been farmin' these downs for th' last ten generations, an' ain't going t' be my son as breaks faith with his fathers."
Slightly stunned by the vehemence in his voice, Immalaine pauses a second before she speaks again. "Rastellion, dun give up jus' yet. Mebbe ye can still get him t' see reason. An' if not," she shrugs, reaching up to tap on her shoulder. "An' ye got plenty t' offer. So ye ain't got coin or fine lands. An' sure as that ain't easy, I know meself how hard that is." She looks around, "Not like I ain't ne'er slept in a haystack afore. But if all it took were money or lands t' make a man, there'd sure be a lot o' men runnin' round Bree. An' all I seen so far, well they ain't men. Not like ye. Ye'r worth 10 o' them."
He lets out a low chuckle, an unusual trace of bitterness escaping into his voice. "Yeah, well, my one-time betrothed sure din' see it that way. Nor does my pa. An' I'd want t' offer someone more than pretty words and a haystack..." He trails off, then shakes his head slightly. "And how come we're talkin' about me?" he asks, abruptly. "I came up here to find and fetch you back t' Bree, not whine 'bout some lass as rejected me!"
Looking over incredulously at Rastellion, her eyes narrow at his words. "Ye ... came up here ... to ... " Taking a deep breath, she continues,"I ain't some parcel that went 'stray!! I got a mind an' a say in where I go and what I do wit' me time! An' if I choose t' stay out here an' do what I can t' help, then no one is goin' t' fetch me back!" She jumps to her feet, her legs eating up the ground as she walks. "If I want stand nekkid RIGHT HERE I could! Cause it's my choice!"
Staring after her, startled, he jumps up and hurries after, grabbing his bow as he does. "Damn it, Immalaine, wait!" His eyes dart about the shadowy landscape as he catches up. "Don't go biting my head off 'cause of some misplaced word. Fine, not fetch. And 'course you can do what you want, though" he looks about,"this might not be the best spot to get nekkid." He pauses for a second, then shakes his head. "It's just ... look ... " He makes a throwing-away gesture with one hand. "What can you do to help? Help who? My uncle? My pa? Me?! ... There's no farm here! What help is there out here? Nothing but orcs and abandoned fields and half-burned wrecks of homes and lives!"
Shaking her head at him, Immalaine vibrates with anger and frustration. "Is that all ye ... OW!"
In the midst of their argument, neither had noticed the small lynx cub crouching nearby. The animal, startled by their movement and shouting, had dashed out from the undergrowth with a kittenish growl, clamping down on Immalaine's calf. Nocking his bow, Rastellion lets fly a belated arrow at the lynx kitten but the arrow flies wild as the small cat vanishes back into the underbrush. Turning to Immalaine he asks. "Are you hurt?"
Immalaine reaches down, grabbing her calf where the cat had bit her. "Damn and tarnation!" she exclaimed, "Right ornrey lil' buggar." Straightening up,she favors her left leg. "Ne'er knew them little cats had such sharp teeth she said, looking down at her hand, spots of blood from the punctures on her palm. "I jus' need t' get washed off, I think. Reckon I'll live."
Closing the distance between them, he offers her his arm. "Here, put your arm 'round my shoulder. Let's get ya back to th' cabin. M'uncle's got plenty o' linen an' salves." He chuckles. "Even a good trapper like him gets clawed from time t' time!"
Nodding, she blows her breath out as she wraps her arm around his shoulder, leaning on him a bit on the way back to the cabin. As they enter, she looks around, seeing the chairs are still near the hearth and heads that way, shaking her head. "Well, they sure are pretty critters, but mean as a bag o' turtles fixin' t' be soup." Grimacing, she sits in the chair, leaning down to see her calf.
"Uncle!" Rastellion calls as they approach the steps. "Going to need some bandages here. Lynx kit gave Immalaine a scratch!"
Ceolfred appears as Immalaine sits down in the chair. He takes the situation in at a glance, shakes his head over the folly of the young, then turning he says. "Water's still hot, I'll go get th' bandaging."
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
