Emmett's day was proving to be emotionally eventful. His relationship with Phoebe had wobbled and pivoted, changed course irreparably, his grief had finally begun to spun out into something tangible. It was late when he left his house, only just having the mind to make sure the kids were looked after before he was headed down the road.
He didn't know why, not really. But he had to get out, had to find something to channel it all into. With his fist curled around the neck of a bottle he eventually came across Rory and the crowd, only to catch the end of the speech. But he had already decided he hated the Outlanders, needed to get back at them. He didn't need much convincing to raise his fist, roar with the people. It felt good to be a part of something. Less lonely.
Gladly he followed to the base of the Spire, helped to set up tents and drive down supports into the ground. Shaking the hands of strangers and staring up at the Spire, it felt like a purpose.
He didn't know why, not really. But he had to get out, had to find something to channel it all into. With his fist curled around the neck of a bottle he eventually came across Rory and the crowd, only to catch the end of the speech. But he had already decided he hated the Outlanders, needed to get back at them. He didn't need much convincing to raise his fist, roar with the people. It felt good to be a part of something. Less lonely.
Gladly he followed to the base of the Spire, helped to set up tents and drive down supports into the ground. Shaking the hands of strangers and staring up at the Spire, it felt like a purpose.
Emmett
The sun went down beyond yon hill, across the dreary moor
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
Weary and lame a boy there came up to the farmer's door
