modernknight (modernknight) wrote in the_colony, @ 2011-02-01 23:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 33, gregory blair, louisa may smith, | greg and louisa may |
Week 33: Wednesday
Characters: Greg and Louisa May
Location: The barn
Summary: Greg and Louisa May talk about the traders.
Rating: G
“That’s a good lad, you did well.” Greg patted Gustav affectionately as they trotted into the barnyard. Tom had asked him earlier to do a patrol up along the north ridge-line above the valley, where he’d be able to get a good view of the surrounding countryside. Especially of the I-5 coming down from Eugene and points further north, which was the only route from those parts within fifty miles of their position. The occasional recon wasn’t the most ideal way to make sure they wouldn’t be surprised, but at the moment it was about all they had the manpower for.
Greg dismounted from his ride and gently led Gustav into the barn. “You’ll feel better after a good rubdown and cleaning you will. And maybe a nice bag of oats for good measure afterward.”
Louisa May was doing her chores in the barn, checking on the goats. She hated the goats, and she was pretty sure the goats hated her, but unlike Meg, she had enough of a menacing presence to keep them at bay whenever she went into their pens, so they didn’t nip at her -- at least not after she whacked one smartly on the nose after he tried to eat her shirt. They kept away from her after that.
Besides their mutual hatred, Louisa May really didn’t mind doing chores in the barn. The physical labor made her feel sore, but in a good way -- she called it her “goat gym,” and she liked keeping things tidy and clean. At the moment, she was replacing the straw in the bottom of the pen, having shoveled out the dirty straw earlier. One or two goats were making noises because she was in there, and she clucked her tongue at them.
“Y’all just calm down, now, I’ll be done in a second. And don’t you look at me like that -- I’m getting your food after I’m done. So quit it.” The goat closest to her blinked, and slowly backed away. “That’s right,” she said, forking another load of straw and swinging it over to the pen. “You better move out the way, if you know what’s good for you.”
Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she nearly dropped her pitchfork. It was only Greg, which made her heart start beating again, but she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. How long had he been there?
Greg nodded respectfully toward Louisa May when he spotted her in the goat pen. He hadn’t really interacted with her much aside from submitting to a checkup when he’d first arrived and the occasional chat over a meal or few times he’d participated in poker night. She seemed to be friendly enough and he certainly didn’t have anything against her, he’d just been busy with any number of different tasks.
“Sorry Louisa May, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He led the Andalusian over to the section of the barn used as the tack room and secured the lead to a hook on the wall to start the process of taking off the horse’s gear. “How are the goats today?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I didn’t have to use this thing.” She hefted the pitchfork and grinned. “And they’re ornery as always.” She shook her head. “Least they haven’t tried taking a piece out of me yet. Because that... would be a HUGE mistake.” She said the last part directly to the goats, shaking the pitchfork a little at them. One of them bleated a little, and she laughed.
Greg chuckled at the woman’s antics toward the goats. “That’s the spirit,” he told the woman as he unbuckled Gustav’s saddle, “show them you’re the one in control of the situation.” Gustav snorted and tossed his head back at that moment, and Greg grinned. “Of course, some of our four legged friends think they’re in control, like this fine fellow.”
He finished unbuckling the saddle and lifted it off the horse.
Louisa May turned on the spigot, putting a plastic bucket under it. “You see the new folks yet?” she asked, more to have a topic of conversation than anything. She switched buckets once the first one was filled three-quarters, keeping an eye on the water level as the second filled.
“Aye,” the Chevalier nodded in response as he continued working. “They seem friendly enough sorts. Have you spoken with any of them?”
“Met Zeke,” Louisa May replied, hoisting the water buckets with an “Oof” and hiking them over to the troughs. She poured them in. “I’m expecting a steady stream of ‘em for checkups and various complaints, so I’m sure I’ll get to know everybody real well.”
“That would be good.” Greg finished removing Gustav’s tack and began to brush the horse. “I know Abigail is concerned about them.” He knew his beloved had issues with new people, and for good reason, but he wasn’t sure what he could do to help aside from just being there for her.
“I noticed,” Louisa May replied curtly. “And she’s got every right to be.” Knowing Abby would be uncomfortable, she’d purposefully told the other woman that she didn’t need help with her round of checkups. “Hell, given the shit she’s been through, it’s a wonder she doesn’t fend us all off with ten-foot poles. But she seems to have found her place here, and I’m glad for it.” Louisa May didn’t normally like to share personal opinions about other people, but she knew that Abby and Greg were particularly close, so she felt a little freer than she would have otherwise.
“It helped that Nathan was with her,” and himself, though he wasn’t the sort to pat himself on the back. “She feels safe with him to watch her back. I think seeing Bridget out and about that first day might have given her a little more confidence that things were different here.”
“It’s funny how little things like that can be a comfort,” Louisa May replied. She remembered her conversation with Zeke and Derek with a smile. “Derek was one of the group that stumbled into my front yard, and it sure did a lot to ease my mind.”
Greg ‘hmmd’ and continued working on his horse. “I suppose it would. I hadn’t really thought about how that might work, truth be told.”
“Well, I guess it’s different for everybody,” Louisa May conceded. Although she assumed that Greg wouldn’t need to express the same amount of caution that she or Abby would, even he could appreciate the need for security. “And it’s no end of nice to be able to sleep at night without worrying. When I was on my own... the slightest noise outside and I’d be up like a shot. No way for a body to live at all.”
“It does feel good to sleep without a dagger under your pillow at night.” Greg nodded. “One had to be constantly on guard when traveling alone, light sleeping was essential.”
“In my case, it was a shotgun. Significantly more uncomfortable.” Louisa May put the buckets back in their usual place, and took a final look around the pen. Everything appeared ship-shape and neat, just the way that it ought to be. Then again, the damn goats would mess it all up in an hour anyways, so it didn’t much matter.
“I would have to agree.” Greg nodded as Louisa May finished with goat duty. “These last few months have been a welcome change.”