Vaya—braver and not neurotic, like the other—gave her customary warning (or, well, announcement, like the herald reading out the names of invited guests) bark before sauntering over towards Amalia and Jigano. She was obviously the Queen of the Yard, her step bouncy and determined and confident despite the age that was creeping up on her. A few silver hairs flecked her nose, but she'd likely deny their existence even if you held a mirror up to her.
Her black tail wagged as she licked Amalia's hands, happy for the attention while Ella sulked among her goats. Her goats, not Vaya's. Ella was the herder; Vaya was the guardian.
Rory, on the other hand, had been in the large barn. The Long Night monsters hadn't had reason to touch it, but the animals he kept within for the week-long darkness always managed to fuck something up. In this case, they had achieved the rather impressive feat of mangling a feeding trough, and Bakshi had kicked the planks off one side of a stall. He probably hadn't been happy about being left alone with nothing but goats.
Rory hadn't bothered dealing with it at first. He had had other concerns, like.. motivating himself to do anything at all. He had almost a year before it needed to be serviceable again—
and maybe not even then, with the spire unguarded, and everything getting fucked up, and who knew what Long Night was even about, and Wessex's monsters, and fucking everything
—but on that particular day, he had actually gone inside to inspect the damage more closely. He was dressed in well-worn leather trousers—he'd got fed up with tearing the fabric of his other ones each time he did yard-work a long time ago—and an off-white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, top lacing undone, golden hair braided messily. By the time he'd kicked the damaged trough a couple of times for good measure and resigned himself to his fate of picking it apart, Vaya barked.
And soon after a very familiar voice called out, making his heart skip in an unexpected way.
At least it wasn't a ghost waiting for him this time, but a Rory that actually did things. Things he had neglected, and was so behind on.
He brushed some escaped hair out of his face and hastened outside, looking happy despite the shadows still clawing around in his mind. The burn scar was a dragon crawling up his throat and onto his cheek. "Jigano! Amalia!" he cried happily, thinking of when he'd seen them last—when Ronin had died—
And trying not to think about it.
So he went to the closest one first, which was Jigano, and tried to give him a brief hug of greeting—and grabbing his hand to squeeze—before heading over to Amalia and Vaya. Once he reached them he gently nudged the dog out of the way, before trying to wrap Amalia too in a welcoming, relieved hug.
Her black tail wagged as she licked Amalia's hands, happy for the attention while Ella sulked among her goats. Her goats, not Vaya's. Ella was the herder; Vaya was the guardian.
Rory, on the other hand, had been in the large barn. The Long Night monsters hadn't had reason to touch it, but the animals he kept within for the week-long darkness always managed to fuck something up. In this case, they had achieved the rather impressive feat of mangling a feeding trough, and Bakshi had kicked the planks off one side of a stall. He probably hadn't been happy about being left alone with nothing but goats.
Rory hadn't bothered dealing with it at first. He had had other concerns, like.. motivating himself to do anything at all. He had almost a year before it needed to be serviceable again—
—but on that particular day, he had actually gone inside to inspect the damage more closely. He was dressed in well-worn leather trousers—he'd got fed up with tearing the fabric of his other ones each time he did yard-work a long time ago—and an off-white linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, top lacing undone, golden hair braided messily. By the time he'd kicked the damaged trough a couple of times for good measure and resigned himself to his fate of picking it apart, Vaya barked.
And soon after a very familiar voice called out, making his heart skip in an unexpected way.
At least it wasn't a ghost waiting for him this time, but a Rory that actually did things. Things he had neglected, and was so behind on.
He brushed some escaped hair out of his face and hastened outside, looking happy despite the shadows still clawing around in his mind. The burn scar was a dragon crawling up his throat and onto his cheek. "Jigano! Amalia!" he cried happily, thinking of when he'd seen them last—when Ronin had died—
And trying not to think about it.
So he went to the closest one first, which was Jigano, and tried to give him a brief hug of greeting—and grabbing his hand to squeeze—before heading over to Amalia and Vaya. Once he reached them he gently nudged the dog out of the way, before trying to wrap Amalia too in a welcoming, relieved hug.
