[Gathering ala Truthplot]
Over the last annual, Wyatt Cain had once been part of a rag-tag bunch of outcasts and then rebels who had helped bring down a Witch. And then he'd found himself on an Island where he'd started collecting his own small bunch of people and children and animals and he now had one more to add to the collection.
Her name was Lucky, apparently, and he'd taken her in seeing as he didn't like the notion of her roaming around there on her own (gods, he really wished some part of him didn't think this helped even things out with Raw). After setting out a decent (more than decent, he might have gone overboard seeing as he was in a damned good mood with Lucky) breakfast on the table, he propped open the front door and sat himself in the rocking chair in the front of the house, curling Lucky up to his chest like he might have done when Jeb was nothing more than a little baby.
It made him feel young and old at once as he closed his eyes and started to listen to the noise of a house waking-up. It made him think about grandchildren and if Jeb would ever give him any or if the memory of his son as an infant was all he would have. He missed him. He missed him in a way he hadn't missed anyone but Adora in his life, but he buried it deep and let himself drift into a peaceful state as fingers brushed fur.
And he had other people to worry about, now.
Other people who were going to eat the food before it got cold, he hoped.
[Just like the last one and Council posts. Gathering and feel free to then interject anywhere]
Her name was Lucky, apparently, and he'd taken her in seeing as he didn't like the notion of her roaming around there on her own (gods, he really wished some part of him didn't think this helped even things out with Raw). After setting out a decent (more than decent, he might have gone overboard seeing as he was in a damned good mood with Lucky) breakfast on the table, he propped open the front door and sat himself in the rocking chair in the front of the house, curling Lucky up to his chest like he might have done when Jeb was nothing more than a little baby.
It made him feel young and old at once as he closed his eyes and started to listen to the noise of a house waking-up. It made him think about grandchildren and if Jeb would ever give him any or if the memory of his son as an infant was all he would have. He missed him. He missed him in a way he hadn't missed anyone but Adora in his life, but he buried it deep and let himself drift into a peaceful state as fingers brushed fur.
And he had other people to worry about, now.
Other people who were going to eat the food before it got cold, he hoped.
[Just like the last one and Council posts. Gathering and feel free to then interject anywhere]