Logs-Too Late for the Bakery Bree Market - South(#24374Rnto) Leaning against the door of the sewing shoppe sits Rook, looking over his shoulder to the inside. Whether he is looking at the clothes and wanting to try them on or is just amused by the colours of them compared to the market that is getting darker by the minute is not known. He scratches his head and sighs briefly, before looking around the market square at the few people wandering around. His eyes look at each person for a few moments, wondering about their stories, where they've been and what they are doing, until his gaze finally lands on Megan standing outside the bakery. He lifts his hand to wave, but notices that she doesn't look like she's in a talking mood. Regardless of this, Rook stands and starts walking over, pacing himself slowly so he does not seem TO eager to talk to her. Brown eyes glance up and rest on Rook a moment as Megan regards him from the opposite side of the Market- she has spotted him moments before he spies her, and then- her attention is diverted again and one hand reaches up to rub at her face- her eyes? That face is turned away and a sigh escapes her lips as she sees him coming her direction, but- shaking out her hands, rolling her neck and taking a deep breath- she finds the energy to plant a large smile on her face and appear jovial- her eyes the only things giving her act away, and even these are concealed in shadow and a well defined mask that is near perfection now, after what must be years of practice.. "Good evening, Mr. Farrell!" She chirps- that smile remaining there, though becoming no more genuine than when it was manufactured moments ago... "Good evening, Mrs. Tasselberry-Thatcher. What brings you out here on this fine evening?" Rook smiles. Whilst staring towards Megan, he tries to read her body language and looks into her eyes as if trying to see through them to the mind that is behind them... Whilst in thought of what Megan is thinking, out of the corner of his eye he notices a lovely looking loaf of bread on a shelf behind her. Rook stares at it, grins a little bit, rubs his hands together and licks his lips. That bread sure looks tasty. He quickly looks back to Megan and realises that she might have seen his tongue-movement as an advance towards her. "Umm - the bread behind you looks tasty..." He says quickly, trying to explain in some way that the licking wasn't directed towards her. One eyebrow is arched in curiousity as Rook's attention drifts- could Megan have found one with as bad an attention span as herself?! Surely that's impossible (though she has been better of late..) At all the lip licking (though even she could see through the darkness that Rook's gaze was focused elsewhere) that eyebrow is lowered, and then raised again, and she surpresses an amused chuckle- one almost unkind.. "I'm certain it does, though I've no doubt it's been there since early this morning, and they could find no one to sell it to, and it's certainly quite stale by now." A pause, then a shrug of explanation; "My mam used to be a baker." Slow steps, measured though idle, bring closer a young figure, of a female, a warm cloak wrapped around the frail form. She looks cheerful, almost happy, though alert eyes dart from one side of the street to the other. It seems she has more than enough reasons for it, for the spot on the cloak where she would have landed when falling backward, is somewhat dirty, the leather gloves muddy from trying to repair the situation as best as one could. She smiles apoligizely at a merchant she almost bumps into before dodging to the side away from the cart he's pushing forth, and steps further along the market, not really expecting to find anything that is sold anymore. As she approaches the couple in front of the bakery, Wynne slows down and halts eventually, offering a smile and a nod to them and motioning towards the bakery. "I suppose it's closed already?" Rook sighs and looks back to the loaf, as if searching for some noticable
features that stale bread would have. He turns back to Megan and lowers
his gaze to the ground as he moves his right foot from side to side. "Yes,
I suppose it would be stale by now..." He hears the cart being pushed
and looks up to see the young female stop in front of the bakery right
next to himself and Megan. Rook looks at her up and down and smiles. "Yes
it's closed." He takes one last look at the bread and takes a step
backward. "Sorry to cut this short, but I really must return home.
There are chores I have been putting off doing. Hopefully we shall talk
again soon." Rook takes a bow to Megan and then turns to the young
woman with the cart. "By the way, the name is Rook Farrell - hope
we can chat some other time!" He takes a bow to her as well, and
then stands up straight, turns around and walks off. He looks over his
shoulder at the two women and pops a cheesy grin, as if mockingly trying
to appeal to them. Whilst doing this, he trips over his own foot and stumbles
slightly - without falling over. He looks back to them, embarrassed, and
smiles. Quickly, he leaves the market square to return home without looking
back. A smile is given to the departing Rook, and a wave as he dissapears from sight, before Wynne peers back at Megan, puzzled slightly, as to wether she should reproach as well, seeing they do not know eachother. But the girl gathers herself soon enough as she nods and speaks with a polite tone and a friendly smile. "I have nothing against the meals served in the Pony but I had this irresistable urge for something only a bakery can provide. But... ah well, I will have to manage without this eve. I am sorry to have disturbed." With that, she steps out of the way so the other woman could pass, smiling and raising her hand in a farewell. "I wish you good eve," she says before taking her leave again, wandering back from where she came from, looking slightly lost and not really mind that. This time she is able to go undisturbed, for the market has emptied, everything is ready for the good night's rest. Megan nods in understanding, though she does not appear at all interested;
her own tone only fakely polite and friendly- perhaps mimicing (and even
mocking?!) the tone of the stranger. "Oh, yes, I know how it is.
Perhaps next time you should come in earlier? Disturbed? Oh no. I was
just standing up against the wall.. But, I'd best be getting on, too...Good
evening," she says, nodding her head before turning on her heel and
heading out toward the East- though her steps drag- she is not yet ready
for returning home...
|