WC:: 429 - He is so easily distracted
Niernan, despite his state of shock, did notice Graces uncertainty in his silence; her tail slowed its wag and she dropped her arm, her gleaming smile faltering for a moment, until he finally spoke up. She apologised then, and that shocked him even more. She should not be apologising, he saw no fault within her actions and he told her so; "Oh darling, me not knowing you were here ain't your fault. I'm pretty sure some of my meddling family may have been involved. And me not being here kinda adds to it as well." Her raised and outstretched hand-paw did not go unnoticed, he longed for her to finish that reach as he was sure touching her, or being touched, would be like Valhalla on earth. Yet the almond tinted paw fell back to her side and he puffed out a minuscule sigh of disappointment or relief, he wasn't entirely sure.
She waved him in to her abode, her swagger firmly back in place and he found his eyes drawn to her behind, he grinned, not only at the appreciation he held for her behind, but also for her very innuendoic statement about strong, helping hands. He barely caught her apology about the lack of furniture and the mess as he was caught up in his own whirlwind of gutter minded thoughts. He chuckled and it came out low and rumbly, "Darling, I've been away for a while and my place hasn't been sorted yet, this," He said, indicating the pile of timber, "Is nothing compared to my hovel. There are dust bunnies bigger than Ciaran." He shot a smile over his shoulder at her as he moved into the ruined library.
He was aware the she moved away, her paw steps fading into another room, so he crouched down and sorted through the wood, looking for undamaged pieces. He nodded; most of this was salvageable and he could probably knock together a halfway decent bookshelf with it. He straightened then, padding to the entry way and calling out to Grace, who seemed to be scolding her pheasants. "I can give you a sturdy bookshelf, I just need to pop to mine and pick up my hammer and nails." His voice carried through the house but he waited for her response before moving away. He thought about the nails; he was sure he would have enough of them. He had scavenged them from structures along his travels, but also had taken them from the decrepit furniture in his and Brans houses, knowing that he could put them to better use.
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