princehonorable | (no subject)

There are certain things in the close vicinity of the Compound that draw David's interest more than others. He doesn't go too far -- not since the first times he stubbornly attempted and found himself in a bit of a tricky situation when his legs quivered more than was reasonably healthy. Now, he drifts and finds the places that give him peace and calm of mind. One of the places he keeps revisiting is the pasture, a fondness in his expression as he watches the way the animals move.

There's something to this that's familiar. There's something that he recognizes about this -- as if he knows. There's a small voice in his head telling him the quickest way to corral the goats, but he ignores it because how could he?

Still, it's a relief to have something. He wonders, too, if he could have it more often. He watches the girl with the flaming red hair as she works, only lifting a hand in the air to greet her when it seems that the bulk of the work has been completed. He hasn't a clue who she is, but there's no harm in asking a few questions.

Threaded | Flat

Anne had to wait a moment till her hands were free, but once they were she was happy to wave in return, to wipe her hands on her apron and go over to greet him warmly. While there had certainly been spectators to the farmwork before, and often, she was always grateful for those who showed a genuine interest.

"I'm a fright," she admitted as she reached him, "but the chickens never seem to mind. I suppose they're too busy being grateful my son isn't here today to terrorize them. Beautiful day, isn't it?"