Re: May's Cottage: May & Rory
[The mugs were given in trade, so many years ago that May had lost track. There was a time when it was far more likely that someone would barter for her help instead of cash. For so many years there was hardly any such thing as currency. No, people traded what they could, and most of the time May found that preferable. Her house had many such things in it, each tinged with the patina of years, but also held carefully in a timeless sort of storage.
She didn't feel he was crowding, not with her invitation put out their first. And even if he'd crossed the room of his own volition to help himself to the tea, she was in a soft sort of morning mood. The tea poured, and it was dark as it flowed into his mug, a strong and almost bitter breakfast tea that was perhaps only a few steps away from coffee. The last drops given from the spout, May watched as he poured in the sugar he'd found, apparently ignoring the covered sugarbowl on the table. There was a pot of honey on one of her shelves too, but that had been given from Jeze's hives, and she was a little stingier with that. And she'd say so, if she needed to.
But once the tea was poured, she leaned back in her chair again and pulled her feet up to rest her heels on the edge of the seat. It wasn't a posture she'd been able to get herself into for many months, and she appreciated the ability to have it again. Her mug held close to her chest, she looked at him and shifted her gaze toward one of the empty chairs with a lift of her eyebrows. And then she smiled - not quite enough to curve her mouth, but it was there in stormgrey eyes.] Do you think the trees need gnomes to protect themselves? You don't think they could just swallow a person up if they wanted? [Perhaps there shouldn't be much of a question why May lived alone, if this was what she considered a good morning conversation.]