Music and Stone (Closed)

[Yvonne]

Yvonne's first impression of the human man before her was very favourable - he was off to a flying start in her book. She had learned a while ago surfacers often react negatively when they're sideswiped in the street, which was why she was so over-the-top on the apology. In this busy life you couldn't impede momentum, not without causing a ruckus or having a tiff. This one gave a new meaning to 'respond in kind', his go-to utterances of peace, fairness and he wasn't finished, kneeling down to her level and smiling so brightly she couldn't keep the smirk from her face. His smile was contagious.

What? No criticism? No 'Watch where yer going, I'm walking here?' Not even a short joke? It was a pleasant change of pace. Yvonne returned the bread loaves she was offering to the top of the pile, without needing to stretch to do so, thinking she'd finally caught a lucky break. Any moment now he'd relent on the courteous routine and deliver a blindsiding quip. A 'Be more careful next time' at least. Nobody was this nice, this perfect.

She genuinely smiled, fluttering lashes as he raised his concerns for her well-being. Who be this gentleman and why have I not met him until now? "Oh, that be very thoughtful of ye mister." Be it too late ta feign unconsciousness? "I'm quite wonderful, thank ye. Ye be a dear for mentioning it."

The dwarven hybrid glanced down to herself to make sure she was, in fact, okay. She'd spoken on how she felt but that wasn't what he meant, the realization he was eyeing her for bruises came afterward. Yvonne nibbled her lip, straightening her back to appear taller, gently dusting her corset with her palms before folding her arms behind her. He be checking me out. Quick, look as pretty as possible. She crossed her ankles and met his examining gaze demurely.

Her mind a whirr of spiralling thoughts, she tried to process the things he had said, to keep the conversation going so as not to appear a fool. Kids! Kids. Of course a man like this was happily married and surrounded by ankle-biting rascals and rug rats. He'd even done the shopping, bless him, for his certain to be lovely wife. He was so thoughtful, the ideal man. That was a lot of bread loaves he was carrying - a lot of bread to feed a lot of mouths. Yvonne deflated ever-so-slightly.

"Ye must be a proud father ta many wee lads and lasses. How old be yer children?" Yvonne asked, giving him a curious stare. The mathematics didn't add up. She was certain he was no older than she, and yet, if each of those loaves represented a child or two he'd been a busy boy for a very long time.