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Uh. Gonna have to trespass for this. Please don't kill me. Kthx. SSWM: 427
Fiachra has been wandering again, enjoying the snow's deep cold. She loved snow, loved cold, loved everything about it. It felt quiet, alone, peaceful. She remembered a poem she had once read, and began to recite it from memory quietly. "Whose woods these are, I think I know. His house is in the village, though. He will not see me stopping here, to watch his woods fill up with snow. She smiled, remembering everything - her parents teaching her and her siblings to read and write, reading poems with her father and stories with her mother, taunting her siblings when she knew words that they didn't. Fig and Dora had never cared as much for literature as she did. She simply adored it.
She wandered endlessly, still reciting. "My little horse must think it queer, to stop without a farmhouse near, between the woods and frozen lake; the darkest evening of the year..." Fiachra wanted a horse. They had horses back home, and she was a fair rider. She knew that perhaps she ought to view the horses as food, but they were companions, once they were trained to not be afraid. Treats did that plenty well enough. Maybe she would get a horse... That would be lovely. Would she be allowed to keep it in the packlands? She could build a stable. She had never done that alone, but it only needed to be a small one anyway. She should ask Naniko.
"He gives his harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep of easy wind and downy flake." She spotted a female looking over a garden, and without thinking, walked toward her. It had not yet occurred to her that she was in another pack's territory. She walked slowly, finishing the poem as she went. It would be a shame not to finish it. "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep... and miles to go before I sleep."
She was right near the female now, and smiles wryly. "Is this garden yours, ma'am? You maybe ought to have planted it come spring..." She wasn't much for gardening, but her mother and sister had enjoyed it, and so she knew a little bit. Her pack had been one to gather knowledge and skills, to better themselves. She still held that trait dear to her heart. "What all did you plant?" she asked, unsure as of yet, of whether her presence was welcome or not.