Winter had not surrendered its hold entirely upon the quaint hamlet of Knotwood. While the grass that carpeted the rolling landscape was thick and lush, and flowers brightened the budding trees and fence posts, the nights were still chilly enough to warrant a blanket and a hot cup of tea.
Taite gazed wistfully out the front window of the Knotwood Boarding House as evening fell, bringing its bracing cold with it. Ever she hoped to see the tall, broad-shouldered figure coming along the lane and through the front gate. Even in the failing light, she would recognize his stride. Long, slow steps he took, as if he were in no hurry, yet full of purpose. Sometimes his head would be bowed a little, and she wondered what thoughts kept his eyes to the ground before his feet. But for now, he was not there. Not yet.
"Pumpkin," she chided softly to the cat curled up on Tairy's bed. "You're going to make Master Tumunir jealous, sleeping here so much!" Chuckling lowly, she bent down to pluck up a few bits of firewood to liven the embers in the hearth. But something there along the stones lining the fireplace captured her eye and held it.
Letters. Plain to make out in the black soot. Drawn by a fingertip? She dropped to her knees, heedless of the dark smudges that might mar her dress. Pumpkin peered over the side of the bed nosily, then slunk down to worm her way over Taite's lap.
"Pumpkin, not now!" The cat was gently picked up and placed aside, where she sat down, back turned to Taite in indignance.
Bending closer, the faint glow from the ashes glimmered in her green eyes, like a forest in flames. Her lips moved softly as she sounded out the words:
When blooms in spring the waiting world / All robed in color sets to play / Of courting song and courtly wing / The petal on the stem unfurled
She read the lines again. A small furrow pinched between her eyes, though her lips twitched as if to smile.
Curious.
A thoughtful finger lifted to rub against her chin, unwittingly smearing a bit of soot over the pale skin. But before she could ponder further, a clatter and a crash split the air. Gasping, she looked to the table in the center of the room, to see the little orange-and-white Pumpkin bent over the edge, proudly surveying the cutlery she had sent to the floor.
"Pumpkin!!"
The letters were forgotten as Taite scrambled and huffed up to her feet, limping over to scold her cat and scoop up the fallen forks.
