Tom reacts to the bristling with a patronizing smile. "Got nothin' 'gainst blokes workin' stalls, myself. Feck, my mum worked as a dyer. But you just said Nottingham had no church - makes Nottingham a town, dunnit? Places with towns and not cities're the country, mate."
"Nay, sir, Nottingham isna a cathedral city, we've two fine churches an tis the seat o'the shire. Aye, guess could see it that way, just tis 'ome is all."
Another twist at the bandage on his wrist, Will's more truly an outlaw and a thief, but won't say it, but blood's started seeping through.
The alarmed doesn't comfort Will, he fidgets and stops himself, his posture unsure and full of pain, doesn't want Tom to think he's useless and injured,
"Um, just 'ealin', sir, naught to worry 'bout."
This is a lie, but everyone keeps looking at him either like he's some odd hero or with pity, its hard. Jona didn't but that must have been a mistake.
Tom's expression is watchful when he asks, "Somethin' getcha when you got here?" He gives the area a quick glance - as if the thing that attacked Will might still be around.
I needed him scruffy and his version of Robin was scruffy!
"Ah. Good."
Beat.
"Uh, in a way." With forced heartiness: "Gone from it now, eh?" He gives the bandages another glance, trying to guess what 'it' was. Might be from trying to kill himself, for all Tom knows.
Almost adds gone from the Sheriff but stops himself, the bandages on his wrist go all the way around, iron manacles for three days are not kind to wrists and his posture especially his back is rather too stiff.
Tom hasn't been around the house much since he discovered Smallville, but he does come back for the simple pleasures.
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And there's something different for a moment in Will's eyes, a bit more Green and magic.
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Will can't help but bristle at that, after all its home no matter the problems.
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Another twist at the bandage on his wrist, Will's more truly an outlaw and a thief, but won't say it, but blood's started seeping through.
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Tom doesn't apologize, but papers it over with "Righ' 'en," which is a good word to use in that situation.
His eyes narrow at the bandage, and he shoots Will a searching, questioning look, beginning to get alarmed.
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"Um, just 'ealin', sir, naught to worry 'bout."
This is a lie, but everyone keeps looking at him either like he's some odd hero or with pity, its hard. Jona didn't but that must have been a mistake.
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And Will deserved it after all he's an outlaw which probably will just make Tom like him less even though his PB looks like one version of Robin.
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"Ah. Good."
Beat.
"Uh, in a way." With forced heartiness: "Gone from it now, eh?" He gives the bandages another glance, trying to guess what 'it' was. Might be from trying to kill himself, for all Tom knows.
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Almost adds gone from the Sheriff but stops himself, the bandages on his wrist go all the way around, iron manacles for three days are not kind to wrists and his posture especially his back is rather too stiff.
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"World's a harsh place," he replies, talking to distract Will from his scrutiny. "Seems most worlds are, from what I learned here."
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Talking helps a bit but now he's thinking of Robin and home and still fidgeting too much with the bandage, he's always been restless, that's all.
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"Mind some company back to the house?" Tom asks. Because Will's going back to the house, of course.
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