40th of Summer, 516 AV
Syna had not yet touched the earth, and the fog still kissed the air. Despite the sharp, early morning wind, sweat dripped between her brows. Aladari wiped it away with the back of her hand, frowning at the wetness she saw gathered there. Gross.
"Ar'ya helpin' here or what? We don't have room for ya jus' to stand there."
Aladari scowled at the man who dare address her ao rudely (and so early in the morning no less). Her hands itched to give him an obscene gesture, but she gripped her shovel tightly instead. She had been working all morning to help rebuild the old rotting mansion, but so far all she had done was dig in the backyard. Was it for a garden, a latrine, somewhere to bury a dead body? She had not been told. She had only been given a shovel, pointed to the backyard, and instructed to dig.
She had spent several chimes digging already. Her hands were sore from rubbing against the wooden handle, and her back was tired of bending for so long. She stretched, moaning lowly, and her partner glared at her again, as if disgusted that she was tired. This is volunteer. She thought. I can go home if you'd prefer. But she couldn't say such a thing. Otherwise, they might take her up on the offer. Her pride would not let her leave after she had already agreed to help.
She hated this work, and her body ached everywhere, but she'd be damned before she gave up. She couldn't let the smug petcher win. She plunged the shovel into the ground with ferocity and pushed down on the handle like a lever. The man working with her smirked, never looking up, but hearing her frustration in the sounds of her digging.
Morwen, cool my temper. She pleaded, tapping the Gnosis on her shoulder in habit.
Syna had not yet touched the earth, and the fog still kissed the air. Despite the sharp, early morning wind, sweat dripped between her brows. Aladari wiped it away with the back of her hand, frowning at the wetness she saw gathered there. Gross.
"Ar'ya helpin' here or what? We don't have room for ya jus' to stand there."
Aladari scowled at the man who dare address her ao rudely (and so early in the morning no less). Her hands itched to give him an obscene gesture, but she gripped her shovel tightly instead. She had been working all morning to help rebuild the old rotting mansion, but so far all she had done was dig in the backyard. Was it for a garden, a latrine, somewhere to bury a dead body? She had not been told. She had only been given a shovel, pointed to the backyard, and instructed to dig.
She had spent several chimes digging already. Her hands were sore from rubbing against the wooden handle, and her back was tired of bending for so long. She stretched, moaning lowly, and her partner glared at her again, as if disgusted that she was tired. This is volunteer. She thought. I can go home if you'd prefer. But she couldn't say such a thing. Otherwise, they might take her up on the offer. Her pride would not let her leave after she had already agreed to help.
She hated this work, and her body ached everywhere, but she'd be damned before she gave up. She couldn't let the smug petcher win. She plunged the shovel into the ground with ferocity and pushed down on the handle like a lever. The man working with her smirked, never looking up, but hearing her frustration in the sounds of her digging.
Morwen, cool my temper. She pleaded, tapping the Gnosis on her shoulder in habit.
