For milliways_bar.
Northumberland, England
2020 A.D.
Year 20 of the Burning Times
It's spring in England, if you can call it that. Spring is supposed to be a time for green poking its head back into the world, the return of colour. At least, that's what the older adults remember. For Quinn, green doesn't really enter into the season. It hasn't in ages. Spring is just when the dragons get more active in the skies. They don't hibernate in winter, exactly, but God knows the bloody things are a hell of a lot less active when the rainstorms turn to snow and sleet. The kids cheer when the castle windows are whited out, because it means the beasts won't be coming through for days.
Quinn remembers cheering for blinding snow when he was little, though his reasoning was different at the time.
As far as they're concerned now, though, the important thing about spring is that it's when the ground thaws enough to get the seeds and seedlings in. They've been nurturing the weaker plants indoors so that they'll have a head start outside- tomatoes and such, mostly. The rest of the vegetables will just have to tough it out from the start. There's reflective mulch, at least, and camouflage mesh to protect the growing things from the dragons' sight. It's the best they can do.
The work's gone on all morning and deep into the afternoon when Creedy pokes his friend in the shoulder. "Quinn, you've about had it. Why not let someone else haul that stuff, eh?"
"Hm?" Quinn looks up. "I'm all right, mate-"
"Quinn, you're a rotten bloody liar. G'wan, back to the castle with you. Send the next crew along, why don't you?"
He lets out a sigh. "All right, all right-"
"That's my boy," says Creedy with a grin, thumping his friend on the shoulder. "See you at supper, eh?"
Quinn just shakes his head and clambers into the truck alongside Eddie and the rest of the mid-day shift. He leans back and closes his eyes- Creedy was right. Between digging the new tunnel yesterday and hauling the stakes and supplies today, he's tuckered out. So much so, in fact, that he scarcely notices anything funny at all about the door that leads to his quarters in the castle until it's already open and he's already through.
2020 A.D.
Year 20 of the Burning Times
It's spring in England, if you can call it that. Spring is supposed to be a time for green poking its head back into the world, the return of colour. At least, that's what the older adults remember. For Quinn, green doesn't really enter into the season. It hasn't in ages. Spring is just when the dragons get more active in the skies. They don't hibernate in winter, exactly, but God knows the bloody things are a hell of a lot less active when the rainstorms turn to snow and sleet. The kids cheer when the castle windows are whited out, because it means the beasts won't be coming through for days.
Quinn remembers cheering for blinding snow when he was little, though his reasoning was different at the time.
As far as they're concerned now, though, the important thing about spring is that it's when the ground thaws enough to get the seeds and seedlings in. They've been nurturing the weaker plants indoors so that they'll have a head start outside- tomatoes and such, mostly. The rest of the vegetables will just have to tough it out from the start. There's reflective mulch, at least, and camouflage mesh to protect the growing things from the dragons' sight. It's the best they can do.
The work's gone on all morning and deep into the afternoon when Creedy pokes his friend in the shoulder. "Quinn, you've about had it. Why not let someone else haul that stuff, eh?"
"Hm?" Quinn looks up. "I'm all right, mate-"
"Quinn, you're a rotten bloody liar. G'wan, back to the castle with you. Send the next crew along, why don't you?"
He lets out a sigh. "All right, all right-"
"That's my boy," says Creedy with a grin, thumping his friend on the shoulder. "See you at supper, eh?"
Quinn just shakes his head and clambers into the truck alongside Eddie and the rest of the mid-day shift. He leans back and closes his eyes- Creedy was right. Between digging the new tunnel yesterday and hauling the stakes and supplies today, he's tuckered out. So much so, in fact, that he scarcely notices anything funny at all about the door that leads to his quarters in the castle until it's already open and he's already through.