It's that time of year again. The trees are blooming and the air is sweet. Twilight comes late, and with it the many nocturnal sounds of spring. The world feels more alive, somehow
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"They sacrificed themselves for the greater good," says Alanna, solemnly, holding a hand over her heart.
The silence is broken when she surreptitiously slips a finger under her short black wig and scratches.
"Okay. Time to do in another round."
She throws an arm in the air and is ignored. The wig is a very effective disguise. Either that or the types of people who frequent this tavern are far more concerned with the taste of their ale than the person sitting next to them.
Alanna jerks, hitting her head on the underside of the table. Bounder barks near her ear; it sounds suspiciously like laughter. Scowling and rubbing her head, she disentangles herself in order to sit up as slowly as possible, just in case the table attacks her again.
"Raph. Ale."
She flips the woman a coin; these occasions are always her treat.
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The silence is broken when she surreptitiously slips a finger under her short black wig and scratches.
"Okay. Time to do in another round."
She throws an arm in the air and is ignored. The wig is a very effective disguise. Either that or the types of people who frequent this tavern are far more concerned with the taste of their ale than the person sitting next to them.
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So loud the previously slumbering dog by the fire is now beside Raph's chair, wagging his tail expectantly.
Alanna grins. "I don't think he can carry a tray."
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The dog barks and puts a paw in Raph's lap; and another. Isn't it scruffy and adorable?
It stands on its back legs and noses an empty tankard until it tips over, then flicks its tongue inside to get at the few remaining drops of ale.
Apparently it's done this before.
"Oy, Bounder. Only in the kitchen! Now, I heard yer whistle. Expect all of the country did. What can I get fer the Masters?" It's said wryly.
Alanna, watching the dog, wonders if it would be rude to request clean tankards.
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"I'll have the same," she answers mildly, "with some bread." Sensing a glare on the top of her head, she adds, "My thanks."
The woman leaves, muttering to herself. Bounder stays. His ears get a good scratching from the disguised knight.
"Remember when you used to tease me for my 'leggings', Raph?" This can't be going anywhere good.
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Beaming, she leans down under the table and pulls on the tight fabric covering one of his thighs until it snaps back.
"Funny, isn't it?"
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"Here're yer ales, then. And a loaf o' bread."
Alanna jerks, hitting her head on the underside of the table. Bounder barks near her ear; it sounds suspiciously like laughter. Scowling and rubbing her head, she disentangles herself in order to sit up as slowly as possible, just in case the table attacks her again.
"Raph. Ale."
She flips the woman a coin; these occasions are always her treat.
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"Itches," is offered in unnecessary explanation. She sighs, "I don't think Adam approves of my new hair.
"Haircut." A gesture upwards. "Not this thing."
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While chewing: "Dunno. He got that wrinkle in his forehead. Disappointment, I think. He always liked my hair long."
Her eyes shift sideways, and there's nothing innocent about her sudden smile.
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