(Untitled)

[weemanmurray]

It wasn't much of a desk.

Ian had woken up a week ago to a wooden box heavy at the foot of the bed and, when he'd opened, his eyes had widened. He'd spent a long while up in Fraser's Ridge putting together a box similar to this, a box containing all of the tools which a man who wished to work with wood would rightly need. He'd made furniture for

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[vendettaevey]

Evey had moved nearly all her things out of her old hut but was still contemplating whether to move the rosebush. Apparently rosebushes were a bit sensitive to replanting if they didn't have enough of their root structure included when they were moved. She'd gone back to the clearing to try to determine how large the root structure might be, if possible.

She heard the sounds of wood being planed inside the hut and knocked on the open door quietly.

[weemanmurray]

Ian looked up from the wood that he was working and gave Evey something with probably amounted to a smile.

"Oh, look, laddie," he said, dryly, smoothing the wood with the palm of his hand. "It's yer errant Auntie."

[vendettaevey]

Evey raised an eyebrow at the semblance of a smile and dry remarks.

"Errant Auntie? What have I done to earn that title?" she asked him with a slight smile, though she suspected she knew. She'd not told Ian she was moving out exactly, which might well have not pleased him.

[weemanmurray]

"Well, I come t'find ye, an' I canna find ye, and what am I suppose but that ye've been stolen away?"

Nevermind that Rollo had never, for a second, had doubted where Evey was, and where she'd moved.

[thefairone]

Retaming the wild took practice in stages, little bits and starts, Isolde had long ago learned that she couldn't put herself into doing it all in one go, and didn't see the point in leaving things all careful and caged anyways.

Sitting on the back of Findabair, more wild than not these days, she felt a bit out of practice, but a good deal herself as she approached her son and her husband. "Or at least it makes ye look a bit less like a fool," she replied, smiling slightly.

[weemanmurray]

"Hush, lass, or I'll ne'er make ye anythin' pretty."

He squinted up at her, beautiful and strong on top of her horse, and gave her a smile.

In his rocker, Jamie appeared to have fallen asleep.

[thefairone]

"I don't really need anything pretty. Pretty things tend to be a bit impratical."

Leaning forward to rest her head on the head of her horse, observing her sleeping son, and the work Ian was doing, she nodded. Every time she'd been done up to be very pretty, she'd felt highly impractical.

[weemanmurray]

"Aye, well, there isna anythin' wrong wit' th' odd beautiful thing," said Ian, smoothing his hand over the planed wood.

"Does it look like it's supposed t'?"