Maladicta hadn't seen Angua since the day that... well, since the Bad Day. Her partner had basically had the crap knocked out of her by life, and Maladicta found herself troubled by it. Maladicta had never been one who thought of herself as one for girl time. Taking into account her entire military history, though, this wasn't entirely true. So she went to the werewolf's hut, to check in.
Angua froze, a large board of wood in hand. She turned, feeling that this was all made harder by the fact that there was someone else there to witness it.
"Hi," Maladicta said, eyes round. "This is- bloody hells, Angua." She stepped forward, looking at the mess, then, frowning deeply, looked back to her partner.
Angua opened her mouth to reply, but nothing seemed to come out. She nodded. It was hard to open up about herself when she'd kept her guard up for so long. Carrot had been the exception to the rule, and then Cheery a little. But without work to distract her she was finding there was too much time to think, and sometimes some things wanted to come out.
"It'll be okay. I just need to get this cleared out of here," she said, avoiding the topic that started with C and ended in t. "I have a bed in the Compound for now."
It wasn't any of his business, but he wasn't sure the women was supposed to be moving furniture. Not with a cane. Not with a bad leg or ankle. Based on that information alone, Danny was positive she'd refuse help if he offered it directly, which was too bad because he was going to offer it anyway.
He stopped nearby, hands moving to his pockets as he smiled, looking like the very definition of polite earnestness. "You know... If you tell me where you need this stuff to go, I'd be glad to move it for you. I was just thinking to myself that the thing I missed the most about home is helping people out." Of their money and finer possessions.
"Some of it," he admitted with a slight shrug. Danny wasn't all that surprised by her reaction and his lingering, lazy smile probably indicated as much. "I was also thinking that only a schmuck lets an injured person move furniture on her own. So let me help you out."
Angua managed a little smile, feeling like she really couldn't let herself be completely melancholy with a friendly stranger around. And Gavin was already edging up to him to smell his shoe.
"If you really want to, though I promise not to call you a schmuck if you keep walking. My name's Angua," she added.
Vimes was already leaning against a tree near Angua's former home when she appeared. He didn't speak immediately, actually looking a little worried about the sergeant, then straightened, tapped his cigar absently against the trunk, and spoke.
"Heard you had a couple've rotten days there, Sergeant."
Vimes nodded. " 'course." It wasn't so much her ankle he was worried about, but he wasn't about to say that aloud.
He shifted his weight slightly and crosed his arms over his chest. "From what I hear, you're not the only one things're goin' a bit loopy for, what with the damned changing island business and all that. If it makes you feel better." It was meant to be comforting, but Vimes had never done comforting very well.
"Yeah? Anything specific?" Angua asked, hoping for a case or something. She was used to the Watch taking up all her time, here on the island there was way too much down time.
It was hard not to spot the broken wreck of a hut. Glenn had stumbled upon the Hamlet while exploring the island, and while he had not planned to linger, the woman's plight was enough to make him stop and walk over.
"Ye are hurt, m'lady," he said upon seeing the hobble in her step, his brows creased with concern. "It is nae wise to move so much. What are ye trying to do? I shall do it for ye."
Angua turned and looked at the man in fascination. He had an interesting way of speaking she didn't exactly hear very often, and enunciated in such a way where she knew he wasn't a peddler of rat-ka-bobs on the street.
"I'm not hurt that badly," Angua tried to assure him, not one for letting someone else do her own work for her. "A tree fell into my hut, it was on stilts and I need to get all the wood in a pile to clear it."
Glenn was not all together convinced the woman was alright to be doing labor, but he also knew he could not force help upon ones who did not wish it.
"I am sorry to hear that," he said, his concerned look falling into a frown. "Perhaps, then, may I at least offer my services to aid ye? It would nae be any trouble at all, truly - I would be happy to help."
Bobby saw the person digging through the hut's wreckage and went to see what he could do, his brows shooting up when he saw who it was. "Angua?" he said. "What the hell happened?"
Angua nearly dropped the board she'd been holding, and she turned to face Bobby. "Oh, hi. Ah, a tree fell through the roof," she said, motioning to the branches poking out of the pile. It wasn't really an entire tree, but it was damn close.
"Okay, thanks," Angua said, a little reluctantly. Even without the sprained ankle she probably would have needed help, so it was silly to act otherwise.
"Hey, do you know a guy named Dean Winchester?" she asked, moving the board to a growing pile of wood.
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She reconsidered for a moment upon her arrival.
"Angua?" she called.
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"Hi..."
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"I'm sorry."
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"It'll be okay. I just need to get this cleared out of here," she said, avoiding the topic that started with C and ended in t. "I have a bed in the Compound for now."
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He stopped nearby, hands moving to his pockets as he smiled, looking like the very definition of polite earnestness. "You know... If you tell me where you need this stuff to go, I'd be glad to move it for you. I was just thinking to myself that the thing I missed the most about home is helping people out." Of their money and finer possessions.
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"Really? That's what you were just thinking?" she asked, her tone of the sure you were variety.
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"If you really want to, though I promise not to call you a schmuck if you keep walking. My name's Angua," she added.
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"Heard you had a couple've rotten days there, Sergeant."
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"Ah, well. I'm fine now," she said, feeling the need for a bit of bravado around Vimes. "I'll be back on patrol just as soon as my ankle heals up."
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He shifted his weight slightly and crosed his arms over his chest. "From what I hear, you're not the only one things're goin' a bit loopy for, what with the damned changing island business and all that. If it makes you feel better." It was meant to be comforting, but Vimes had never done comforting very well.
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"Ye are hurt, m'lady," he said upon seeing the hobble in her step, his brows creased with concern. "It is nae wise to move so much. What are ye trying to do? I shall do it for ye."
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"I'm not hurt that badly," Angua tried to assure him, not one for letting someone else do her own work for her. "A tree fell into my hut, it was on stilts and I need to get all the wood in a pile to clear it."
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"I am sorry to hear that," he said, his concerned look falling into a frown. "Perhaps, then, may I at least offer my services to aid ye? It would nae be any trouble at all, truly - I would be happy to help."
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"Sure, if you really don't mind. What's your name?" she asked.
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"Hey, do you know a guy named Dean Winchester?" she asked, moving the board to a growing pile of wood.
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