Rhody

Her guard shift over, Clara ran across the road and through her yard, up the steps, and only barely stopped to wipe her feet before entering her house. It had been a cold night, and she knew Belle would have heated the place up as part of making a proper breakfast for their little household.

After lunch was done and cleaned up, with less help than usual from Clara – who still seemed to be in a daze of sorts – the youngest Briarwool in Everslade went back to her cousin's house to check on her mother.

The elder redhead was sitting on the chair in the guest room that had been given over to her, and was fussing with the edge of her shawl. The loose threads were getting worse, her daughter saw, and it would need proper mending soon. A light rap on the doorframe got the woman's attention, she looked up, momentarily startled.

The willowy brunette paced quietly as she stood her late-night watch. She had a lot on her mind, but part of it was doing well at her new guard posting. Fortunately, she could think on things so long as it was only her mind that wandered, and not her senses.

Making her way through the darkness around the outskirts of Combe wasn't what she wanted to be doing that night. Clara Briarwool wanted to be in bed. She'd earned her rest. But circumstances did not agree, and she couldn't really argue with her mayor, even if it was of a township of only a dozen or so.

The following events occur on the evening after events described in Entry Four: Progress, and before those in "Just Visiting" - Looking in on Dear, Jailed Uncle Wes.

The Watchers at the jail eyed the brunette suspiciously at first, but shrugged when she wasn't under escort. She'd had reason to visit before, and her uncle was in custody again, after all, having been unable to keep away from the drink when free.

Her brief sardonic half-smile acknowledged their evaluation of her, and she sashayed down the row of cells to the one she was starting to think of as her uncle's home. Her cerulean skirts swirled in just the right way, and she was rather pleased with the impression she thought she was making. It felt nice to be properly dressed and looking like someone successful these days. Sure, that success was a matter of windfall – but then, to a busker, windfall was very nearly the definition of success. Or so she told herself.

When she reached that cell, in the very back, she discovered her uncle had a cell-mate this time. She sighed to herself as she discovered they were both snoring to beat the lumberyard saws. "They must have been arrested together, both too drunk to leave." She slouched up against the wall by the door, looking at the two idly, then focussed her gaze more on the red-headed lumberjack.

“You've got a clean slate. Don't try to redraw the pictures that were there before. Use it to start a new masterpiece.”

I’ve had a week to spend on my special project, and I think it’s coming along quite nicely. I met a lovely lady named Odelina and an adorable halfling named Heemi, who have since moved into Everslade across the road from me.