Re: Who, Me? Attn Valder

Laura Walker

Garatt had been perfectly fine with the wher, quite happy to obediently scramble down from the fence to stand on his feet, still holding his trousers in place with one hand. His posture changed almost immediately when Valder appeared though, head ducking and shoulders hunching as he tried to shrink in on himself.

“I’m sorry!” The apology came first, words quickly thrown out as though apologising quickly enough might still save him. “I didn’t mean— I was just trying to see — I think one’s hurt.” The hand holding his trousers tugged at them, twisting a little, unconscious fidgeting like a nervous runner too antsy to stand entirely still.

To the wher’s nose the boy would even have smelt different; he was sweating suddenly, skin flushing hot in panic. A moment ago he had been calm, now he smelt scared.

On Monday, October 26, 2020, Amy Frazey <amyfrazey9@...> wrote:
When the boy turned around, Sig released him, thinking he was getting off the fence. [[Down. Val say down.]] The boy's polite request was only half lost on the green wher. He still looked like he was going to fall, and Sig eased back so he wouldn't land on her if he did. [[Sigrun watch. You hurt?]] The boy smelled damaged, the way some herdbeasts did if they were injured.

And about then, Valder walked up, making a motion with one hand, and Sig immediately lay down, though she stayed watchful. "Whatcha doin' round them heavies, boy? What'ser name?" He gave the bedraggled boy a close once over. "Ya almost fell in. What's wrong with yer pants?"


Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.

Join to automatically receive all group messages.