This is a RP log, edited for typos and clarity.
Gailswith | In a clearing by a little frozen creek to the northwest of Bree is a farmhold that has, perhaps, seen better days. While nothing is falling apart, exactly, the wood and stone of its various structures are all showing signs of age and a slight falling-behind in maintenance. Snow covers the ground, and footprints mar its surface only on a trampled path leading from the house to the small wooden barn. The house itself is a quaint, if now shabby-looking, dwelling with (perhaps) four rooms and a chimney from which a little tendril of smoke curls. About two-thirds of the rooftop is brushed (somewhat) clear of snow, and fresh straw thatching can be seen there. High up on the rooftop, almost at its peak, kneels a sturdy but feminine figure in a simple brown cloak. She is facing away from the front of the house while her gloved hands pick through a small pile of hay.
Reora roves around through the snow with ease, long nose held slightly aloft as if searching for something, trying to sniff it out. When she comes across the farmhold, she pauses, wondering if this is the place that's having trouble? Things in Bree-land are all starting to look the same to her in the snow. It's then that her honeyed gaze catches sight of someone up on the icy roof of the house and she moves closer on quiet feet, one brow raised.
Gailswith finishes going through the pile of straw, emerging from her search with a bunch of the thatching material clutched in one hand. Tapping the bundle against her thigh to neaten it, she pulls out a set of clippers with her other hand and snips a length of wire from a nearby spool, turning a bit toward the front of the house as she does so and revealing the side of her face.
Gailswith is apparently still oblivious of the approaching woman.
Reora slowly abandons her search in favor of indulging her own curiosity, though her search is not forgotten completely. She inches closer to the house, her gaze traveling ever upwards until she stands right beneath the edge of the roof. Surely, she thinks, doing that alone up there can't exactly be safe. She moves side to side a bit, trying to get a better look.
Gailswith tilts her head, inspecting her handiwork so far, and nod decisively, turning and shuffling a little more toward the front of the house to nestle the bundle of straw into place on the rooftop... And jerking suddenly as she catches sight of a gigantic woman with a gigantic axe looking at her!
Gailswith teeters backward a bit, then forward a bit, and begins sliding toward the rooftop's edge...
Gailswith says, "Oh!"
Reora immediately puts her large hands up -- to either catch her if she falls or to calm her, she's not sure which. Maybe both? Not a word leaves her mouth but her eyes are wide with her own surprise and worry and her lips curve into a frown. Either way, she moves closer to the edge, looking a little panicky but ready to assist since it's probably her fault for startling the woman in the first place. She has to remember to stop spooking the poor people of Bree-land on accident but she's starting to wonder if she can help it at all.
Gailswith drops both the wire and the bundle of hay and tumbles backward onto her hindquarters, beginning a haphazard slide down the length of the roof with (apparently) little-to-no control. She, along with a mini-avalanche of snow and forgotten, fluttering bits of metal and vegetation, are heading straight toward Reora...
Gailswith says, "Aaaaaah!"
Reora | If it is at all possible for a lass like her to go pale, this would definitely be one of those times. But, Reora is of the line of Beorn and she is no coward. She quickly holds out her arms to catch the woman as well as closes her eyes to protect them. But she's forgotten to steel her stance and close her mouth all the way in her haste and, thus, catching Gail results in her getting a mouthful of snow and falling backwards onto her bottom. Hard.
Reora says, "Oof!"
Gailswith says, "Aghck!"
Gailswith instinctively throws her arms about Reora's neck for purchase as the huge woman topples backward onto her rump. For a long moment, she simply sits in the woman's arms wide-eyed, frozen with a rather shocked expression on her face as her eyes naturally gravitate toward Reora's closed ones.
Reora is covered in a thin layer of snow and bits of vegetation from the top of her head to her waist and a bit of wire hangs from a lock of her dark hair. She immediately turns her head to the side and tries to shake the snow from her face like some sort of animal and spits the snow out off to the side. Finally, she reaches up with one hand and wipes some of the frost from her eyes and opens them slowly. She meets the woman's gaze with her own and awkwardly just sits there for a moment before moving both of her hands to support her weight behind her and motioning with her head for the woman to stand.
Gailswith immediately looks away and scrambles to her feet, dazed shock turning to mortification as her freckled, sun-kissed cheeks flush a brilliant red. "Oh! I'm... I'm sorry!" she exclaims, reaching out with both gloved hands as though to help brush the woman off. She freezes again before touching the other woman, however, wide brown-eyed gaze snapping up to Reora's again.
Reora shakes her head and moves to stand again, brushing the snow off easily with bared hands. It's then that she is whacked in the nose by the bit of wire hanging from her hair and she reaches up to untangle it. Once it is free, she hesitates for a moment before awkwardly and almost shyly holding it out to the woman. "... Sorry. I scared you."
Gailswith blinks hard as the other woman stands, craning her neck backward aggressively in an uncomfortable-looking attempt to maintain eye contact. Stammering, she manages to choke out, "I... What?" before her eyes process the bit of wire being offered her. "Oh. Uhm. Thanks," she says, slowly oh-so-slowly reaching out to take the piece of metal.
Reora is very aware of their height difference and frowns to herself a bit. Why must the Bree-landers be so short? She bends her knees and slouches a little in a way she's sure her cousins back home would laugh at and reaches behind her to shove the blade of her greataxe out of view behind her. "You're welcome... It's not safe up there."
Gailswith bites her lower lip thoughtfully, eyes following the woman's movement as she repositions her weapon, and takes a large step backward. This has the side-effect of relieving some of the strain on her neck. After a moment, the corners of her eyes begin to crinkle and those of her lips quirk sideways. Somehow, at the same time, her rampant flush deepens and spreads to her ears.
Gailswith begins to giggle, a little giddily, a little nervously. "A-apparently not!" she gasps, her tone an exquisite mixture of mortification and mirth.
Reora raises her brows in surprise as her mouth drops open a little. Is the other woman... laughing? At herself? At Reora? She figures after a moment that maybe it's both. Thus, her dusky cheeks begin to take on a slight red color. She straightens back up and looks off to the side a bit, pretending that she's not blushing at all. But her own embarrassment gives way to concern as she looks to the woman once more. "You... You're not hurt? I've been told that I'm not... soft."
Gailswith bites her lip again, nervous giggles stopping abruptly as her eyes momentarily widen with confusion. "Not sof- Oh. Yes. I mean, no. I mean..." She trails off with a little strangled groan in the back of her throat and takes a deep breath and a little pause. "I'm fine! A little sore, but no worse," she tries again, speaking all in a rush, "You caught me rather well given the suddenness of my tumble!"
Gailswith smiles widely and giggles nervously again, then stops and (somehow) manages to blush still redder. "W-wait. Are you hurt? That was a hard fall..."
Reora nods and manages to look relieved. "I can be fast." To the woman's question she looks over herself as if to ascertain her own condition and then shrugs when she sees and feels no injuries. "I've fallen harder." And then, she suddenly remembers her task! Curse her rampant curiosity once again! She looks about the area before settling her honeyed gaze back on the woman again.
Reora says, "Have you seen wolves? I was sent by a farmer who hired me during harvest to look for them."
Gailswith seems to calm a little as the other woman speaks, as terse as her words are, and the brilliant flush colouring her skin begins to fade. At the mention of wolves and another farmer, however, she tilts her head. "A farm- Who?" she asks, a little sharply, a curious look entering her eye. She raises her eyes skyward for a moment before continuing, "I mean... Yes. There have been more wolves about lately. Hungrier'n usual, too. We lost most of the chickens, all in one day about a ha' week back."
Reora nods. "One called Dogwood. Said he'd pay me more if I took care of them." Of course, he had never mentioned how he wanted the wolves 'taken care of'. She has no plans to harm a single one of them today. She'll just tell them to seek prey elsewhere. "They want easy prey in winter."
Gailswith nods slightly, her eyes relaxing a bit as she looks the other woman over appraisingly. Apparently coming to some kind of decision, she suddenly tugs a glove off and sticks her now-bare hand out, offering it to shake. "I'm Gail," she says, voice simultaneously warm and firm with an undercurrent of nervousness. "Gail Mossbank." She pauses with her hand outstretched.
Reora raises her brows and glances back and forth from the outstretched hand to Gail's face. Oh! That's right, this is how Bree-landers greet each other! She extends her own larger, calloused, and warm hand and take Gail's and slowly, gently as she is able to, shakes it. "Reora." Her lips slowly form a smile as her own blush begins to fade away. "Well met, Gail Mossbank."
Gailswith smiles again. "Simply Gail will do," she says, slowly withdrawing her (much colder) hand. "It is good to meet you, Reora," she says, pronouncing the name carefully. "I'll try not to fall on you next time!"
Gailswith tugs her glove back on and casts her gaze about her, searching the ground for something. "Oh bother," she says, and turns to gingerly make her way toward the ladder leaned up against the house. She seems to favour slightly her right leg over her left.
Reora stands there a bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do as sher hand relaxes back to her side. After a moment's thought, she follows after Gail, sniffing the air and wondering what she's doing. Curiosity strikes again.
Gailswith rests one hand upon the ladder, then the other, and slowly begins to climb back up onto the roof. "I left my clippers up there," she says, raising her voice to be heard though she doesn't turn back. The ladder wobbles a little anyway.
Reora frowns a little and shakes her head. The stubbornness of farmers! She steps forward and grabs the ladder by the sides, stabilizing it so that poor Gail can climb up without falling a second time.
Gailswith successfully clambers up the ladder with the large woman's help, though she still seems to be maneuvering her left leg somewhat gingerly. Once on the roof, she crawls rather ungracefully upward, poking through loose straw and snow until she finds what she's looking for. "Aha!" she cries, turning to look down at Reora as she triumphantly holds the wire clippers aloft.
Reora still holds the ladder in place, even after Gail makes it up onto the roof and gives her a small smile upon her success in finding her clippers. But her worry only increases tenfold once again. Now Gail is right back where she started before she fell. She seems to Reora such a small lady. Should she fall without someone to catch her, would she break like a toy? Still, she does seem like she knows what she's doing up there and would probably do it better if she didn't have a big and probably intimidating looking person looking up from below her. "Will you be alright?"
Gailswith smiles warmly. She seems to be surprisingly at ease on a rooftop that places her at least four metres above the ground. "Oh, I'll be right down. I think that's quite enough thatching for the day," she laughs cheerfully, if a little wryly. "Come in for some tea?"
Gailswith carefully makes her way back toward the ladder, the caution in her movement implying that getting down safely might be a little harder than getting up...
Reora still holds the ladder, determined that she would not let it wobble while Gail climbs back down. "Tea?" she asks with a slightly puzzled look. She's never had tea in these lands. Most of the Menfolk here seems to like things like ale and beer more. But to each their own. She knows a kind gesture when she sees one. "Tea is fine."
Gailswith makes her way slowly to the edge of the roof and pauses when she finally gets there, tilting her head in consideration. Then, with a little nod, she puts both hands on top of the ladder and begins to shift her weight onto her left foot, now outstretched to the top rung. For a moment, her rump sticks out into the air at an awkward angle... Until she finishes moving her right leg down and into position, and the moment is gone. She cautiously but steadily makes her way down to the ground.
Reora honestly tries not to laugh. And, for her efforts, only a little puff of air leaves her nose before she schools her features into a neutral expression as Gail climbs down the ladder. She is visibly relieved once the woman is on the ground and finally relinquishes her hold on the ladder.
Gailswith lets out a little grunt of exertion (perhaps more than one might expect of a fit-looking young woman in the prime of her life) when she finally touches the ground again. "Thanks," she says, bending down to collect the wire spool from where it had tumbled to earlier during her fall. Looking up to give Reora a warm smile, she beckons, then turns back toward the door of the house.
Reora nods her reply in silence, though another smile appears on her face. She steps back from the ladder and follows behind Gail, wondering what Breeish tea tastes like and whether there'd be honey to add to it like back at home.
Gailswith pauses at the bottom of the steps to tap the snow from her boots, then again by the door, where a stiff-bristled brush is nailed down to the wooden porch. Brushing the bottoms of her shoes a few times for good measure, she begins to reach toward the door... Then pauses and glances back over her shoulder. "Would you be alright leaving the axe by the door?" she asks. "Inside is fine, but..." She trails off.
Reora shrugs and nods, taking the weapon off her back, making sure to hold it near the blade so she looks as unthreatening as possible and places it by the door. "Outside's fine."
Gailswith nods and begins to reach toward the door again. She stops again. "Oh. And there are children in there. Three, in fact. And," she begins to enumerate with her fingers, "my parents, my brother, his wife, their month-old baby, and my sister..." She looks up, searching Reora's eyes. "Didn't want you to get surprised... They won't bother you... Much..." She blushes a little and pulls nervously at the edge of a glove.
Gailswith blushes a little redder and continues, speaking all in a rush. "Oh! I mean, one'f the children's my sister, too. Two sisters in there. And the other children belong to my sister. The older one." She shuts her mouth with a snap and chews nervously on her lower lip.
Reora allows her smile to grow bigger and shakes her head. "I like children. But babies in Bree-land are very small, no?"
Gailswith tilts her head, considering. "Well, he was a rather large baby, actually. Had us worried about- Oh." She cuts herself off and looks the huge woman over with that appraising look again. "Yes, I think babies in Bree-land most likely are rather small." She turns back to the door with a little smile.
Gailswith taps on the door lightly, then opens it a crack. "We have a visitor!" she announces cheerfully, then steps back, holding the door open for Reora to enter at will.
Reora actually laughs again though she tries not to, resulting in more puffs of air through her nose. She gives Gail a nod before stepping into the house, careful to mind her head and not accidentally step on anything... or anyone.
Gailswith smiles and checks around her for anything forgotten before stepping in after the tall woman, cheerfully shutting the door behind.
