Re: Quicklog, Patrick's cabin: Patrick G/Newt P
I do not miss anyone left behind. [This was the truth, and Patrick had no qualms in making the statement, and he looked down and shook his head more when Newt made his comment about size not mattering.] My man, as every boy learns in middle school, size most certainly does matter. [But the conversation turned to wands and trees, and Patrick was most interested in what Newt was saying. Pickett trilled, and Patrick glanced over at him, and then he looked back at Newt and that shake of shaggy red.] I think this makes sense. [It did.] Mundane wood. I had never thought of trees as mundane or not. When I was young, I thought I heard the trees whisper to me. No one heard this but me, and I convinced myself I imagined it. I would like to see your world one day. [He grinned, and this grin was most cheeky.] And your wand- [pause] -s.
[He did not know this poem Newt recited; he assumed it was a poem.] Dude, you could possibly pull off a skirt. [The teasing melted into that show of gritted teeth, but Patrick did not pull his hand back. He had suffered much worse during the war, and this was only discomfort. Then Newt cast his spell, and Patrick glanced at the wand.] What happens if I touch that? [Which was not an urgent question, and the spell helped greatly with the pain.] Dude, you would have been most helpful during the war. I was laid up once for months, and it was most frustrating. [He was watching the massage to knuckles, and he flexed his fingers slightly under the ministrations.] We Gunsters can be most infuriating. [He grinned without apology, but a sigh followed.] Man, I do not know. He came at me about not being competition, and I reacted poorly. [He turned as ordered, swiveled with his legs still planted most widely and flip-flopped feet on wood.] Dude, why would you do this? We both know you want Sue, man, despite me insisting otherwise when I was speaking with him.