There's nothing better than a hot bowl of soup on a rainy day.
I was just sitting down to my second bowl of turtle soup when my friend Hawthorne Quince came up and stood at my elbow. He looked the same as ever, save for a bright red sash that had been tied around his waist. "Have Mistress Rose bring yer a bowl, Thorne. It'll set ya right on a day like today...", I said. Thorne lay his bow down on the far end of the table and sat down.
Taking another sip, I asked "What's with that red contraption around yer waist?"
Thorne leaned forward and whispered, "I met a pirate in the marshes..."
"Eh?" The spoon stopped in the air halfway to me mouth.
Thorne nodded. "She's from a far-off land, and her Da was one of them Cor-sairs..."
"Oh, aye?" I finished the bite of soup and dipped my spoon for another. A far-off look came into Thorne's eyes.
"Aye...and she's a beauty too...one o' them 'Dusky' beauties, with dark hair and brown skin..."
"More like, she ain't washed her face for a year....show some sense man! This is Breeland! You expect me t' swallow such codswallop?"
Thorne frowned and rose to his feet, gathering up his bow and lookin' daggers at me. I shrugged, "Suit yerself...though if she's truly a pirate, ye'd best look after yer own welfare."
Thorne glared at me and stomped out of the Warhorse. No matter....more soup fer me.
