Wednesday - Late Afternoon
Outside
Eddie searches around for a while, eventually finding a suitable depression, probably an old fox hole or something he imagines. He rigs up a pivot for the crude spear and then sets about securing it into the depression.
Kiylea meanwhile has finished securing the rope and then sits, relaxing in the tree, looking towards the sun she figures they have about two hours or so left of full sunlight.
Inside
Not even needing Jerran's slight prompting, Mrs. Mellar is back in moments with a steaming hot sweet potato pie and a small stack of plates. Topped with a whipped confectionary sugar that has melted, it smells delicious. Quickly slicing and placing a piece before each of you, she disappears once again into the kitchen to collect a small batch of forks which she hands to each of you. "Now, what was it you were all after again?" She forks a bit of her pie into her mouth, chewing for a moment then swallowing, "ah yes, the crops. Well, harvest is coming up and I just can't have some beast of a thing tearing up my fields. I just couldn't compete in the baking contest if half of my best sweet potatoes went missing." You all listen quietly, Jerran nodding amiably to keep her going, as she eats another bite. "If you want, you could always go ask Lamir if he could show you the tracks he found, he should be at my daughter's farm just a ten minute walk down away from the road. The footpath should be enough to get you there without any trouble."
She goes on for a while, talking about the excellent season they've had so far, the type of pies and breads she'll be baking for Harvest which will just wow the other ladies. Eventually, your slice of pie is gone. A slight creak as the front door opens is followed by the entrance of an older halfling, his once dark brown hair grayed considerably. Despite what must be at least seventy or so years of aging, his muscles look as strong as iron and his hands are course with callouses. Mrs. Mellar hops up from the table, "Oh my, dear, I wasn't expecting you in from the fields so quickly. Wait, I lost track of time, it's dinner time already, oh these summer days confuse my poor old body. Oh, I'm sorry." This last bit is aimed at the youngsters, "I must get on to making supper for Clyde, he's been out working all day." Clyde laughs at his wife's antics, you could only imagine he's quite used to it by now, "so what do we have here? Bubbles Greenbottle, Alton Highlea, Ringly Softpetal, and the little rascal. What called you to our door?"
Outside
Eddie searches around for a while, eventually finding a suitable depression, probably an old fox hole or something he imagines. He rigs up a pivot for the crude spear and then sets about securing it into the depression.
Kiylea meanwhile has finished securing the rope and then sits, relaxing in the tree, looking towards the sun she figures they have about two hours or so left of full sunlight.
Inside
Not even needing Jerran's slight prompting, Mrs. Mellar is back in moments with a steaming hot sweet potato pie and a small stack of plates. Topped with a whipped confectionary sugar that has melted, it smells delicious. Quickly slicing and placing a piece before each of you, she disappears once again into the kitchen to collect a small batch of forks which she hands to each of you. "Now, what was it you were all after again?" She forks a bit of her pie into her mouth, chewing for a moment then swallowing, "ah yes, the crops. Well, harvest is coming up and I just can't have some beast of a thing tearing up my fields. I just couldn't compete in the baking contest if half of my best sweet potatoes went missing." You all listen quietly, Jerran nodding amiably to keep her going, as she eats another bite. "If you want, you could always go ask Lamir if he could show you the tracks he found, he should be at my daughter's farm just a ten minute walk down away from the road. The footpath should be enough to get you there without any trouble."
She goes on for a while, talking about the excellent season they've had so far, the type of pies and breads she'll be baking for Harvest which will just wow the other ladies. Eventually, your slice of pie is gone. A slight creak as the front door opens is followed by the entrance of an older halfling, his once dark brown hair grayed considerably. Despite what must be at least seventy or so years of aging, his muscles look as strong as iron and his hands are course with callouses. Mrs. Mellar hops up from the table, "Oh my, dear, I wasn't expecting you in from the fields so quickly. Wait, I lost track of time, it's dinner time already, oh these summer days confuse my poor old body. Oh, I'm sorry." This last bit is aimed at the youngsters, "I must get on to making supper for Clyde, he's been out working all day." Clyde laughs at his wife's antics, you could only imagine he's quite used to it by now, "so what do we have here? Bubbles Greenbottle, Alton Highlea, Ringly Softpetal, and the little rascal. What called you to our door?"