Logs-A Tight Squeeze

Large Field
This is a peaceful field; the grass is ankle-high and bright green in colour,
while patches of wildflowers sprout here and there. Three white sheep are
grazing peacefully near by, though as you pass- they look up and stare-
stalks of grass stuck between their teeth; that dazed sheep-expression on
their white faces. A few large trees grow here and there, providing shade
when shade is needed, and a path runs across to the east, disappearing into
the stand of trees that grows there.

Obvious exits:
Vineyard leads to Vineyard.
Secluded Pond leads to Secluded Pond.
Orchard leads to Orchard.

==================== Bree Time ====================
Real time: Fri Jan 16 02:07:28 2004
Bree time: Late Morning <about 11 AM> on Mersday of Spring - March 15,1431
Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon

Breelands Weather
The late morning spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The sky above is a
glorious pale blue.
===============================================

It is a beautiful morning: a golden sun beams down from a cloudless blue sky,
the grass beneath sparkles, bedecked with a thousand dewdrops, the bushes are
greening and the birds hop from one to the next, fluttering and chirruping.
Everywhere there are signs of spring - and even the three white sheep grazing
peacefully in their field seem to feel it, for ever and anon one will lift
its head to give a ringing bleat, or wriggle its fleecy tail.

Three? No wait, there is a fourth - or at least half of a fourth. Down in the
hedge at the bottom of the field, something large and white is shaking the
branches. A black face stares longingly at the green grass and baas
mournfully towards the other sheep, and on closer inspection one might
realize that a fat and very pregnant-looking ewe is stuck in the hedge. Well,
they do say the grass on the other side's always greener.

Trudging up from the next field is old Hugh Bramblefleece, fleece-clad himself,
leaning heavily on his staff and wheezing with each step. "What have ye done
now, me girl?" he enquires of the sheep's rear end.

From the field of the three white sheep comes an excited barking from somewhere
near the southern end. A moment later, and a medium-sized shaggy brown dog
comes flying through the grass toward the three creatures- mouth opened in
ecstacy; slobber flying in all directions, white-tipped tail wagging madly as
he flies around the three creatures (who are now huddling together rather
nervously, though this doesn't deter them from grazing- perhaps they're used
to this performance), and then stops to look north- panting and almost
shaking with excitement. Either he's heart the voice, seen Hugh, or seen the
other sheep, but whatever has caught his attention has caused him to stand
stock-still- ears perked up, eyes watching intently, one glance over his
shoulder and then..

Megan Tasselberry-Thatcher is following him up the way- her own eyes glancing
around curiously as she now detours to approach Macky- her own eyesight
seeking out what he's seen... But, by now, the dog has grown bored of
waiting, so takes off- barking and yapping loudly as he flies across the
field toward the hedge- and a moment later, Megan is attempting to run after
him.

The black-faced sheep bleats nervously at Macky's first bark, and by the time
the dog starts running towards her, the poor ewe is struggling frantically,
supple sap-filled twigs tangling in her coat and prisoning her more tightly
with each moment. "Calm down, girl," Hugh mutters, as he extends a soothing
hand to the part of the sheep he can reach - but it doesn't seem to have much
effect. "Hoi there!" he calls to the woman running far behind. "Can ye call
yer dog off? Seem ta have a bit o' a problem here ..."

"Macky! No!" Megan calls- whether in response to Hugh's question or just
because he seems to be about to cause more trouble isn't clear. Either way,
the dog (Macky) obviously pays her no heed, and continues on- white paws
flashing briefly above the grass as he springs- barking at the top of his
canine lungs, and, where he to have human features, his lips would be pulled
into a wide smile- though not a cruel one, for he obviously didn't intend to
/attack/ the sheep.. it was merely the excitement at having someone new and
interesting to play with!! "Macky! No! Come back!!!" Megan runs on, calling
out desperately.

Whether Macky intended to cause chaos or not, he certainly seems to be
succeeding. The sheep, flanks heaving, tries again to squeeze herself
backwards and doesn't succeed, though she /does/ manage to dump a quantity of
dung at Hugh's feet. The old man, heaving a sigh as he sees the result of
Megan's command, glances at the bounding dog, then seems to get an idea.
"Here, boy," he calls as he moves along the hedge until he's some distance
away from the sheep, and rustles at the branches with his staff, grunting a
bit with the effort.

It appears as though Macky is faced with quite a dilemma now, and his small
canine brain is torn between playing with the sheep (and they're /so/ much
fun to bark at, after all) and heading toward the man.. who talks, and moves
and is looking at him!!! Well! Decision made and the brown dog is off- faster
than ever now- leaping into the air to clear a particularly high mound of
grass... a moment later and he's reached the hedge and it in the air again-
paws outstretched, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, and a look of
delirious joy on his face as he means either to leap the hedge and push Hugh
back with his paws, or not quite clear the hedge and go diving head-first
through the centre of it... Megan runs after him, and, as he starts to fly, a
cried and desperate "Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!" comes from her mouth.

Megan's cry of despair comes too late, for by then Macky is in mid-leap. And
Hugh's an old man, pretty shaky on his feet ... the staff goes flying in one
direction and Hugh in another, as the dog's leap bowls him over backwards. He
lands in a patch of mud, and perhaps worse things - well, at least it's a
softish landing. Nevertheless the old man's first reaction is a moan: "Me
ole' joints!" Wiping dog-slobber away, he reaches out with one arm from his
prone position, attempting to grab the dog by the scruff of the neck before
it goes after the palpitating sheep from this side of the hedge too.

Megan herself isn't given a second thought - has Hugh even recognized her?

Macky, as he lands atop Hugh, goes into another flourish of barking; lifting
his snout into the air and baying excitedly before (as Hugh grabs at his
scruff) poking his wet nose at the man's face and licking madly. Some guard
dog this one would make. A moment later and Megan's face appears on the other
side of the hedge, and seeing the situation- attempts to supress a giggle
(nearly failing!) now looking to the dog sternly, she points a finger and
commands: "Macky, no! Get off!" the dog looks up at her, wags his tail, licks
at Hugh again, and then steps off, moving to the man's side to sit obediently
and watch with his shiny brown eyes- tail thumping against the ground once.
"Oh! Mr. Bramblefleece! Are you quite alright there?" Megan asks now, again
supressing a giggle.

Hugh grimaces at the dog's slavering licks, and when Macky eventually removes
himself Hugh's first action is to wipe his face with the corner of his
sleeve. "Eh?" he manages to Megan ... and for once he doesn't come out with a
catalogue of ills, instead answering, "Jist winded. Didn't want the beastie
ta worry the sheep - ye know how twitchy ewes are, specially that one."
Indeed the fat ewe, ignored and unappreciated, is still struggling. "Someone
should train 'im ta stop when he's told - lovely -lookin' dog, though." He
levers himself to a sitting position, and reaches out to rub at Macky's
shaggy head.

A light frown flits across Megan's face- though only briefly, for she has once
more donned an appologetic smile, though doesn't make any attempt to try and
jump the hedge or push through herself. "Oh, well he's not mine, so I suppose
that's why he won't stop for me- not used to my commands..." Megan explains,
looking to Macky, who (as if he knew he was being talked about) thumps his
tail against the ground again, lifting his chin and puffing out his chest-
giving the look of a well-bred stud dog of some description.. all before his
mouth drops open, pink tongue flops out and ears become lopsided. "His name's
Macky- he belongs to Miss. Ivyleaf, here, but he wouldn't hurt the sheep or
nothin'.. he just wants to play 's all..."

Hugh places both hands on the ground now, and tries to push himself up from
sitting to standing - only to thump back down a split-second later. "I'll
jist ... jist get me breath back," he explains to Megan, as though there were
nothing unusual about sitting in a muddy field with a drooling dog beside
you. "Hey, boy." He pats at Macky again, having nothing with in reach to
throw. "So ... Miss Ivyleaf is a friend o' yours?"

Macky whines excitedly as Hugh tries to move- perhaps preparing himself to race
the old man somewhere- as if he were at all capable of racing! "Good idea,
Mr. Bramblefleece!" Megan agrees, with a sincere nod, while leaning herself
against the fence. As if the pat were his cue, Macky stands and extends his
tongue to lick at Hugh again, though- much like Megan, his attention span is
like that of a gnat, and soon his gaze is wandering up toward the stuck
ewe... "Oh, well yes. We're puttin' our vineyard on her farm just here.. and
I've known her since my mam moved us to Combe..."

"Oi! Don't ye be gettin' ideas inta that shaggy head o' yours, me lad!" Hugh
seems quite taken by Macky - nevertheless, he reaches out in an attempt to
crook his whole arm round Macky's neck and stop the dog bounding off
sheepward.

At Megan's answer he blinks and murmurs, "Why, ye an' me family will be
neighbours, almost! Bramblefleece lands are back that way," and he jerks his
head back the way he'd come. "Ain't that nice?" By the sour expression that
flits across his face for a moment, the thought of having Andrick for a
neighbour isn't too appealing. "Eh," he tacks on, "could ye mebbe come an'
give me a hand with this here dog? Afore he bounds off an' does some mischief
- full of energy, this feller." He gives the eager Macky an admiring glance.

Macky seems to be as skilled as Megan in some areas, and at Hugh's words he
turns innocent eyes to the old man- panting happily and wagging his tail, as
if to ask 'Who, me?!' As the arm is hooked around his neck, he bounds forward
at Hugh- letting out another bark (aimed at the man's ear, no less) and then
licking madly.

Megan glances in the direction Hugh indicated and nods slightly, before
remembering something. "Well, we won't be moving here!" something dark
crosses the girl's face- some dark and repressed memory, "Oh no, not moving
here to live, no. Visiting, yes, stayin' with mam or Miss Llyna a few days,
but I.. well, I don't want to leave Bree just yet." she shrugs off whatever
is bothering her, and now with a sigh she begins to climb over the hedge.
"Macky, stay." she commands, though this doesn't deter the dog from beginning
to make a subtle attempt at escape in the direction of the sheep (which, if
he gets away with, will turn into a full-blown escape in the blink of an
eye...)

Hugh winces as Macky's barking echoes in his skull, and shakes his head as
though to clear it. He doesn't dodge the licking this time, simply enduring
it with resignation. "What?" he eventually manages to get out to Megan? "What
d'ye mean, 'jist visitin'? Bree's a handy place ta live, ta be sure, but if
yer goin' ta run a farm ye need ta /be/ there, day in an' day out. If ye
don't look after yer vineyard, who knows what might happen. Like ..." his
voice drops ominously, "beetles." (Or even rats? They don't get a mention.)

As Macky tries to make his escape, Hugh grabs towards a handful of fur in the
hope he can hold the hound back at least until Megan's there to provide a
diversion.

Macky's escape has been halted, and so now he takes a few paces backward to lay
down- resting his shaggy head upon white paws- bright brown eyes looking up
at Hugh and then across to Megan and back to the ewe, tail wagging
occasionally if he thinks anyone is paying attention to him. Climbing over
the hedge, Megan struggles to answer, though there is something defiant in
her voice- something that ensures that no matter what the old man says, she
won't be bullied into moving back to Combe. "Nah, Mr. Bramblefleece. I en't
movin' back here, and Ms. Ivyleaf's goin' to be here to look after the
vineyard, and I aint going to be able to be lookin' at every single leaf for
beetles all the time- that'd be silly... So I'm goin' to stay in Bree, and
then Andy.. Andrick and I're goin' to come over here for a few days every now
and then to check up on it all... but I en't movin' back here, not ever."

Hugh shakes his head at Megan, a quizzical scowl spreading across his face.
"Whyever not?" he splutters in astonishment, gazing up at her from his seat
in the mud. "If ye don't check up on 'em vines every day ye'll regret it,
mark me words. There was a chap over near Staddle way, thought he'd try his
hand at growin' taters. "But he was careless, like, didn't keep checkin' up
on 'em like he oughter - an' along comes an infestation o' beetles. One day
he had a field o' healthy plants, the next nothin' but dead stalks." He nods
his head as he recites this gloomy tale. And his attention is not on Macky,
no not at all ...

"Course, s'pose ye could plant some vines round Bree itself," he adds
doubtfully. "There's that ole field ta the north ..."

Megan has now dropped onto the other side of the hedge and now begins the
tedious task of brushing the sticks and leaves off herself. "Because." she
replies, shortly- eyes turning cold as they glance to Hugh, as if to say:
'Don't go messing in my affairs.'. She pauses, "I just don't want to. I told
you already, Miss Llyna is goin' to check it all for us. We don't want to put
them up at the north field, we've got everythin' down here and all ready to
go." she explains, glancing up the way as the ewe lets out a distressed
bleat. This is all the calling Macky needs, and within an instant he's up on
his feat- leaping over Hugh, and sprinting up to where the poor sheep is
stuck in the hedge- barking excitedly again. "Macky! No!".. again, no
response.

Hugh shakes his head again, disapproving - and Macky bounds away. "Eh, wait
..." he calls after the dog, with no more success than Megan, and then turns
to his companion and demands grouchily, "Stop 'im! Wouldn't surprise me if
that girl dropped 'er lamb right here, with all the distress that dog is
causin' ..." Placing his hands back on the ground, he tries again to lever
himself up. This time he succeeds, though his stance is somewhat shaky. All
down his back is a trail of mud, interspersed with the odd decoration of
sheep dung. He starts casting around for his staff ...

Another frown, and Megan's mood sinks further. At the demand, she makes no move
to stop the dog, but stands watching- hands on her hips, making a rather
half-hearted effort at looking concerned. "He won't listen to me, I told you
that, too." she snaps- perhaps a little more harshly than she should have. As
Macky now approaches the ewe, it's time Megan unleashed her biggest weapon
and so, fixing that icy-stare on the dog, she growls in her loudest, and most
intimidating voice: "Macky! You get back here RIGHT NOW. GET HERE. NOW."
this, at least, seems to have some effect on the dog, as he slows, stops,
cringes and turns around to face the two- tail wagging cautiously... Oh, how
frightening to be any child of Megan's; especially in a mood such as this.

Old Hugh's not the observant of folk, but even he seems to notice there's
something wrong with Megan, for he gapes at her open-mouthed as she lets
loose her shout. However, as Macky seems to actually listen for once his
mouth he lets out a sigh of relief and mumbles a chagrined, "Thank ye. Seems
e'll listen ta ye a bit." And there's his staff, right over by the hedge. He
hobbles shakily towards it, and snatches it up with trembling fingers. "Eh,
maybe if ye take him up the field a bit and give him somethin' ta play with -
a stick or suchlike, dogs like that - I could get this girl free?" he
suggests hopefully now. "An' not disturb ye any more," he adds as an
afterthought.

To anyone perhaps more observant, they may notice Megan's fists are clenched at
her sides, and she's taking long, forcibly controlled breaths. "Macky... Come
back here now, there's a good boy," she calls; patting her leg once- though
her voice has lost all it's bite, and is now considerably quiet as Macky
slinks his way toward the two. At the words 'good boy' he seems to perk up,
and bounds onward, ears flattened against his head and tail wagging. "I might
take him around to the Vineyard... he's too excited to play in the field..
there's sheep in there, he'll just bark at them..." Megan replies-
unimpressed eyes sliding to Hugh a moment, and she gives him a nod, as if to
say 'good idea'. "Good luck with that, then.... Nice to see you again, and
have a good day." Yes, she's certainly not in any mood for talking any more,
and so, with that- a half-hearted smile and another whistle to Macky, she
begins her climb back over the hedge- Macky squeezing underneath and taking
off in the direction of the orchard.

"An ye too, Mrs ... Tasselberry ..." Hugh watches Megan's retreat with another
shake of the head, and even a muttered "Somethin' not right there." But he
can't pursue the matter further, for there's a distressed ewe to attend to.
Limpingly the old man makes his way back along the hedge, and soon his voice
can be heard raised in soothing murmurs as he unwinds the tangled twigs from
around her fat body: "That's it, ole girl ... no need ta panic ... eh, this
one's snarled a bit tight ..."

*** Macky's desc ***
A medium-sized shaggy brown dog with white paws, a white stripe down his nose
and a white tip on his shaggy brown tail (which is almost always wagging.)
Macky's ears are triangular and add to his comical expression which is
portayed mostly through the mouth and eyes. This little dog looks to be quite
a character!