Moira
New Member
Where are my children?
Posts: 28 
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Post by Moira on Oct 18, 2013 20:23:30 GMT -5
Moira entered the Pig and Whistle behind Quinn. Dirt smeared across her face, her long woolen coat caked and stained with mud and gore, and a now familiar mace strapped across her back. She looked like any hardened warrior that ever set foot through that door except for the tears brimming in her eyes. In those eyes one could see a mother's love for her children and her disheveled appearance only proved how far she would go to find them.
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Moira
New Member
Where are my children?
Posts: 28
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Post by Moira on Nov 4, 2013 22:45:16 GMT -5
She spotted her older daughter, Aileas, darting amongst the crowded patrons collecting empty plates and bowls into a basket. The girl didn’t see her, busy as she was at her task, until her mother knelt before her and pulled her into an embrace. Even then the girl was taken aback until she realized who held her and squeezed as hard as she could. “Mother!” she cried out. “We thought ye were gone!”
“I know dear,” Moira rasped through her own emotions. “I’m here now. It’s all right. It’s all right.” They held one another tightly for a few moments longer while Quinn stood over them. His figure and countenance daring anyone to jostle the two beneath him.
“Where’s yer sister?” she finally asked, wiping tears from her daughter's eyes.
“In the kitchen,” Aileas said, still gripping the collar of her mother’s coat as if she’d never let her go. “Miss McCray has her stirring the pot.”
She picked up the basket her daughter had dropped and took her by the hand as the blacksmith plowed their way to the kitchen. He spotted Annys along the way and nodded to the two behind him with a heartfelt smile. The owner of the pub looked concerned for a moment until she realized what the man meant. She hurriedly finished her task in order to make her way through the crowd to catch up with them.
The door swung in as Aileas pulled her mother past the big man into the kitchen. Near the back, a little girl stood on a short stool diligently stirring a large hearth pot with a look of intense concentration. She seemed to think that her job was to sink anything floating to the surface as she kept poking at the contents of the simmering pot.
“Fenny, look!” Aileas cried, finally relinquishing her mother’s hand in order to clap them together before her.
“I’m workin!” the girl of six replied indignantly. “I’m makin’ stew!”
Moira forestalled her older daughter’s indignant reproach and walked up beside the girl at the pot. “Are you a good cook?” she asked softly, kneeling down beside the girl as she stared into the pot for stragglers.
“I’m the…Eeek!” Fenella leapt from the stool and grabbed her mother around the neck as they hugged one another fiercely. “I knew you’d come back! I knew it!”
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