The winter air bit deep in the cliffside burgh, but stout walls and warm hearths did something to keep the west's harsh winds at bay. Folk busied themselves with everyday labour: the logs were split, cattle driven and linen washed even in times of strife. The man named Hondscioh walked onward with heavy steps, eyes watching the scop-maiden on the wood terrace in silent curiousity.
Wynwyn had a boy of two summers old hoisted against her hip, while a three year old girl runs in circled around the woman. The woman herself appeared somewhat helpless, glancing about with wide-eyed of alarm. Occasionally she yelled, "Hoc, come out, this is not fun!" She planted a fist against the hip that did not support a child against her form, appearing eventually mildly irritated by whatever has occurred.
Hondscioh edged near the leather-work by the house, taking that moment to observe the marks of their work. But his attention was drifted, to what seemed like a middle-aged woman and the playing lads around her. A half smile flickered around his lips chafed from cold. Giving out a long breath, he walked near her, a fiery brow lifted ''Hey, lass. Looks like yer in trouble with these little goblins, eh.''
Wynwyn was actually only eighteen winters old, perhaps not the parent of any of the children. She flicked her gaze at the man, blinking twice before managing a smile. She went to grab the girl's hand who was running about to steady her by her side, "Ah, hello, ser... And aye, one of them deemed it fitting to run away, or to hide." She abruptly raised her voice into a yell, "You never know of him!!", she casted a meaningful glance about, to pick up evidence of the missing child.
Hondscioh would give a quick, contented nod ''O, one's missin'?'' he let his head hang for a few moments with the gravity of a point already known. ''Mayhap, I can help ye.'' he spoke with a narrowed gaze, noting the lass wasn't a middle-aged as he had at first guessed. He'd then cast his blue eyes around with a searchful glint, pacing around the fire.
Someone with a pair of sharp eyes, might pick up fresh boot prints in the snow nearby, smaller than those of a man. They lead behind the barrel nearby.
Wynwyn followed the man, pulling the little girl along by hand. She glanced about, frowning slightly at her own incompetence in her new task so guard but a few children.
Hondscioh, looking down with a sharp gaze, noted the boot prints in the snow, a crooked-smirk cracking in his scarred and bearded features. He followed the footsteps, whistling an oft broken tune.
Wynwyn said, 'Come out! I promise I will be friendly!' When nearing the barrel he'd soon hear voices of suffling. The child had climbed within the barrel and has curled upon whatever grains remained inside, looking down and holding his mouth to remain quiet.
Hondscioh stood tall, straightening some, a hand rested on his iron-sword's hilt. He would heave his shoulders with a remarkable sigh thereafter ''Shame, Béma! I was hoping to give this mighty sword to a courageous lad who appears first before me. It appears there's none.'' he shook his head, gaze lowered. Hondscioh turned around, his gaze finally landing on the lass. He stole a glance and sent her a faint wink.
Wynwyn skipped after the man, forgetting that the small girl in her hand had smaller legs than she did. The girl almost trips over but managed along. A small head slowly rose from the barrel, hopeful if not almost greedy glint in his eyes. He literally jumped out, to stand afore the man, "Me! I was first!
Hondscioh caught the little boy from his arm, sending her to Wynwyn ''Eh, ye need to learn to be a good boy first!'' 'twas spoken with a warning tone, though he couldn't mask the glint of compassion in his eyes. ''Not a sword, but I can make ye a rope. I am a rope-maker.'' he nodded several times, finally matching the woman's gaze, he heaved his shoulders with a half shrug.
Wynwyn let go of the girl's hand to pull the boy's ear, glaring down at him, "Do that once again, and I will bite your ear off." The boy glared back up at the young woman, attempting to subtly pull himself free, which the woman eventually allows, rolling her eyes.
The six year old boy with a ruffled mop of golden hair stared up at the man, pursing his lips before bluntly asking, "Why would I want a rope. I want a sword. To be a warrior." He jumped forth and slashes the air with imaginary sword, probably accidentally hitting the man lightly in the process of going crazy with it.
Wynwyn pulled the boy's shoulder, "Don't touch strangers."
Hondscioh took a step back and chuckled at that ''With ropes, ye can climb the snowy mountains to find beasts you cannot imagine. I've seen the Sceadugenga.'' he eyed the boy a beat with a wolfish grin.
The boy took some sort of a 'climbing stance' that looked utterly ridiculous, making a face as fierce as it's possible for a six year old "I can climb anywhere!"
Hondscioh gave a quick nod ''Ye, ye.'' and even the boy could read from his face that he didn't believe it at all.
Wynwyn rolled her eyes, shifting the two year old she carried on her other arm, for the other started to ache for the weight.
The child took the challenge, sprinting past the man an hopping on the low edge of the roof, to run up along it to sit upon the roof's back to wave down at them with a proud smirk.
''They, your children?''
Wynwyn frowned at the child, "Don't you fall or....!" She shifted her gaze at the man, blinking. 'By Béma, no.'
'Ho! C'mere boy, it's too slippery for ye.' the man yelled.
The boy pondered for a moment, before sliding down along the roof to stand afore the man, "See! I don't need your silly rope."
Wynwyn said, 'I could use the rope, to tie him.' while the younger girl, looked up at Wynwyn, blinking in wonder, "Why is Hoc bad?"
Hondscioh crossed his fiery brows this time, sparing a grim-looking glare at the boy, but he waved a dismissive hand with a smile to Wynwyn. ''Or I could tie him to my horse and drag all the way to Sceadugenga's lair.'' the words were uttered almost like a hiss.
Wynwyn looked down at the girl, appearing utterly wordless at her sudden inquiry. She glanced at the man and the boy then, "Yes, he will do that if you do not behave, Hoc."
The proud little boy didn't seem that frightened, punching the air, "I will kill the Skadugungungada!"
Hondscioh ran a hand clad in leather and iron to his visage, apparently the children were not afraid of the Sceadugenga anymore he thought.
Sceadugengan (Singular: Sceadugenga ), or "shadow-goer", are fantastical beasts which are neither living nor dead.
