Dusk, outside

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart is outside, watching the early sunset.

He's not shooting anything right now. The black fur rug he was making is finished.

Instead, he stands, with a mug of mulled wine in his hands, feet planted deep in the snow, and watches the daylight fade into the odd brownish yellow typical for snow clouds, and then, darkness falling, along with more snow.

It settles on his shoulders and in his hair.

Comments

[scots_wolf]

Under his cloak, Urquahrt's hand slides towards the crossbow. While he doesn't move his head, his eyes quietly wander towards the bush that rustled.

It might be an animal. Or a harmless patron. He's not going to shoot first and ask questions afterwards. That's unprofessional.

But he is prepared.

[young_womble]

The bush moves again, shakes off a load of snow, and then the Womble's nose peeps out.

[scots_wolf]

Oh -- is it a hedgehog?

Urquhart takes his hand off his crossbow, but keeps watching the bush with the little nose sticking out among the snow.

[young_womble]

Bigger than a hedgehog.

The Womble tentatively peeps out, then sees the crossbow, and hides back in again.

The bush trembles.

[scots_wolf]

"I'm not going to shoot you," Urquhart says to the bush. "I don't harm small harmless creatures that work in the kitchen."

[young_womble]

The nose peeps out again.

"Ah, it's only you." Wellington says.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart laughs so hard, he sits in the snow and spills his mulled wine, which causes a pale pink spot in the whiteness.

[young_womble]

Wellington blinks at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks, poking his whole head out now.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart shakes his head, laughing too hard to answer.

[young_womble]

Wellington inches out of the bush and peers at him, wiping the snow off his glasses.

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart snorts with amusement.

[young_womble]

"Is my appearance comical to you?"

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart shakes his head. "I know what you look like," he manages. "But you said..."

He starts laughing again.

"You said..."

[young_womble]

Wellington stands and blinks at him, waiting for him to respond.

[scots_wolf]

"You said, 'Ah, it's only you'," Urquhart finally manages to say.

[young_womble]

"... is it not you?"

[scots_wolf]

"I'm just amused about how I can be only me now," Urquhart says.

[young_womble]

"Well, experience suggests you probably won't shoot me. Someone else with a crossbow might."

[scots_wolf]

"You are right," Urquhart says. "It's still hilarious. 'Only me' as opposed to 'Oh my god, it's that dangerous Scotsman, run for your life!' which I used to get a lot."

[young_womble]

"Well I ought to run from all humans."

[scots_wolf]

"So I guess I'm only slightly more dangerous than your baseline human," Urquhart says, "and rather less so, since you know me, have seen me in the kitchen baking, and know what I look like up to my elbows in flour."

[young_womble]

"I-I believe Sweeney Todd was also a great cook." Wellington points out, shyly.

[scots_wolf]

"Who is Sweeney Todd?" Urquhart asks.

[young_womble]

"A barber who made people into pies."

[scots_wolf]

"Eurgh!" Urquhart says. "I don't consider human flesh a suitable ingredient for cookery!"