Re: At the Picnic Table
“I am glad to hear that, I must admit. I am an awful cook and an even worse assistant,” Alcuin briefly glanced down at the table with an embarrassed chuckle. Unfortunately, cooking wasn't among the talents his former master sought for in his heirs and as such he had never learned to please others in that way. “Please, give the cook my regards the next time you see her; I'm sure she worked very hard on everything.” He continued with a merry grin and a wink. “Besides, we wouldn't want to offend the cook, now, would we?”
Alcuin occupied the companionable silence between them with small bites of his salad which was, amusingly enough, one of the few items on the menu that did not necessarily come with meat. He hid a smile at the thought with a tactful sip of his water. “Werewolves are not always chaotic on the day of the full moon?” It was a rhetorical question at best and a deflection at worst, though he hoped it was enough to keep the tone of the conversation light as a feather. A history? What kind of history? Why would the boy feel the need to reassure him if it was nothing? Might it have something to do with whomever his master was entertaining in the estate?
“Oh? Were the two of you very close?” His eyes were bright with curiosity.