Stitches lifted his feet quickly along the muddy path, splashing through puddles as he approached Hengstacer farm. The sky is bleeding crystals, and the ground;s firm nature would suffer from it. Stitches would not tarry, lest his new boots get covered more in muck than need be. He picks at his new tunic and trousers and reaches to his head to readjust his hat, which of course is no longer there, and has been replaced with the gray hood of a cloak and mantle he had made for him by a local seamstress not too long ago. The clothing he wears now is clean, and possibly even proper, presentable. This makes him feel odd, almost like he's of more noticeable importance now that he doesn't look like a scarecrow or a farmhand or a stool shoveler what have you.
His gaze wanders to the two stable hands to his left and he raises a hand to them, speaking softly but loud enough for them to hear him over the patter of rain upon the ground, "Evening Cam, Earl."
His greeting is not returned. He had guessed they'd know why he was here. Stitches sloshes through the mud right up to Éogar, who smiles at him and extends a hand out to his employee. When Stitches stands close enough, he grabs his employers hand in kind firmly and shakes it, lifting his left hand across their bond to wave at Emma briefly, until he turns back to Éogar. The burly stable master, renowned for selling horses gives a soft sigh and winces a bit before letting go of Stitches's hand, "Oh! Careful there, lad. Trim those nails or you'll poke someone's eye out."
Stitches cast his gaze down to his hand, his palms filling with droplets as he examines his fingernails, which have grown a bit, like much of his features they remain currently unkempt. He looks up to Éogar and frowns, "I'm sorry, my lord."
Éogar shakes his head and turns to pat one of his nearby horses on it's sturdy neck as he speaks to Stitches, "Not at all, my boy. Now...what can I do for you? The horse you bought givin' any troubles?"
"None sir..." Stitches responds quietly.
There is a blank moment before Emma wanders off to do something else important, and Stitches is left in the silence with just himself, his boss, and the rain. Éogar clears his throat, but looks over his shoulder at Stitches with a kind smile, "You've been a blessing on this farm, my boy. It'll be a shame to see you go. You'll always have a place here."
Stitches looks down at his feet, his new boots would need a shining after this, and likely a self administered one. The brief thought of someone polishing his shoes for him makes him grimace and recoil. He looks up with saddened and hollow eyes, dark rings layer beneath them, and his left twitches ever so slightly. Éogar speaks again before Stitches can figure out how he's supposed to explain himself, "You need to take care of yourself, boy. Whatever you're looking for, it's gonna take longer to find if you're not at your best. You remember the first raid you were with us for?"
Stitches nods solemnly, "Yes. I remember, sir."
Éogar gives him a knowing look and turns back to pet the horse gently on the side of it's face, "See? I know what I'm talking about."
In the next moment of quiet, Stitches vision begins to tunnel. He cannot move, he cannot speak, even the rain around him freezes momentarily until everything but him fades into a darkness. Stitches muses in his mind, 'Am I asleep?' A voice directs him from behind him, he can feel it as though someone is speaking in his ear over his left shoulder. The voice is familiar, demanding and proud, but sinister and quiet at the same time, "Ask him...it was close to here was it not? Ask him. Now." It commands.
Stitches is suddenly brought back to reality, where the rain falls just as fast. He steps closer to Éogar and looks at the man who had given him food and shelter, paid him for good honest work adn allowed him to use his facilities, ride his horses, and trusted Stitches with guarding him and his with his very own life. These facts seem to fade slowly, as Stitches's tunnel vision has seeped deep into his mind, "Éogar...have you seen many...strange folk lately? Like a man who acts like a beast? Or perhaps a few men with an unconscious woman over their shoulder? Anything like that?" He asks, his fist curling at the thought.
Éogar turns around and frowns, shaking his head, "That's a strange question, boy. Strange...specific notions, but nay, I have not. These the kinda people you're looking for?"
The darkness comes back to Stitches, and the hissing voice slithers in his ear again, "He lies."
Stitches frowns and steps closer to Éogar, now looming over the man in a nearly threatening manner as his voice gets lower and the shadow of his hood hides his forehead, but gives way to his now wide, piercing pale green eyes, "Don't hold anything from me, Éogar. What have you seen?"
Éogar squints and stands up straight as he pushes his chest out, "Careful, son...emotions can be a dangerous thing, now, ya hear?"
Stitches blinks once or twice, and his tensed face softens. He slouches and reels back a little, steeping behind him a few paces as he reaches up to scratch the back of his neck while he whispers, "I'm sorry...I don't know...what that was."
Éogar shrugs and gifts a soft chuckle as he studies the former farmhand, "Well...it sure wasn't you."
Éogar frowns and places a hand on Stitches's shoulder as he speaks kindly and comfortingly to him, "Boy...I know whatever you're going to do is important...but you're important too, ya know. Just try and promise me you won't lose yourself on the way to whatever it is, okay? Can you do that for me?"
Stitches frowns, and remains unresponsive. Éogar furrows his worried brow and speaks through his damp beard, "Boy? Can you do that for me?"
"Boy?"
"Boy?"
