"You want to learn how to dance?"
Hilda looked at him for one full second before bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter, doubling over. Ford felt his face redden with embarrassment.
"Oh be quiet you," Ford snapped, "S'no' like I'm goin' to go out and perform in front of people."
They were sitting on one of the stone fences that surrounded the small garden in front of the Bree Town-Hall, enjoying the warm sunlight. There was a great bustle of people and carts moving about their business on the cobblestone roads in front of them, and the pair could see the watchers at the jail vigilantly eyeing the throng of people that passed by the southern arch of Bree. Their spear-tips gleamed in the light.
Hilda and Ford had just gotten back from another round of room viewing, this time having gone out to see the small unit in the Stonemason's Quarter. The promising description of a cozy main room with two smaller bedrooms had turned out to be something of a half-baked lie; Numerous cobwebs had been hanging from the ceiling when they came in, and there was a peculiar smell that Ford could not discern (and did not wish to examine further). The windows had been smashed in, which horrified Hilda greatly, and the pantry was still full of neglected food that had gone uneaten by the last tenant. The landlord that had offered the deal, a hairy, squint-eyed stranger with half a missing nose, gritted his teeth when the siblings politely declined his offer, and the two hastened back to the Town Hall square before they could be called back.
"Righ' righ', but I though' dancing made you uncomfortable?" Hilda asked with a tilted head, an amused grin on her face. She was wearing a thick brown cloak draped over a dark green dress, "Or is it because of that fe--"
"Shh! Not so loud you dolt!" Ford cautioned, eyes widened in alarm. He glanced about with worry, but the inhabitants of Bree-town, as he had come to find out, were more inclined to hurry to their destination at first light than stick around to chat with neighbors. Hilda pursed her lips, realizing that she needed to be more quiet, and nodded.
"Sorry." She apologized, "S'just that it's no' like you, brother dear. You hated dancing with the girls in Combe."
"Eh, I jus' don' see the point of askin' a random stranger to dance with you." Ford professed, shrugging his shoulders, "Bu' I kno' someone who really enjoys it, an' I though' it migh' be nice to at leas' learn in case I'm dragged to dancin' against my will."
Hilda raised both her brows and stared at Ford with a knowing expression. Ever since the time where she had spotted the print of the wolf hanging up on the wall, Hilda had been infinitely curious of the identity of the person who had given him the gift. Ford had never given more than vague answers to both siblings regarding the Yule event where he had met up with said person, but in the days after the ball, a mutual, silent agreement had come to pass between all of them; Whoever it was, they were special to Ford.
That didn't stop Hilda from resorting to light teasing, however. She smiled sweetly at Ford, "Will I get to meet them?"
Ford coughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, "Of course you will. Some day, maybe."
"Y'kno', bein' coy's just going to make me more curious." Hilda said, her smile growing wide and toothy, "Bu' I think I know who it might be."
The blacksmith rolled his eyes, "Oh bother. Look, as long as y'don' go pesterin' me about it all the time, I'm no' going to comment on you making eyes at the baker down the road."
His sister's eyes widened in disbelief, "How did you--?"
"Your face is too easy to read." Ford stated with a wide grin. He reached out to ruffle Hilda's hair affectionately, "Now are you goin' to help me or not?"
Hilda pouted, her ears reddening furiously, but eventually, she gave out a sigh and nodded, "Fine."
