(no subject)

[white_flowers]

She has had enough time, now, to repair the damage done to her work by Raven's interference.

Silver needles flash and click once again in a soothing rhythm as Blodwen Rowlands works on her latest project, which appears to be a throw or blanket of cloud-white wool. A silver glinting thread, of the same metallic sheen as the knife-bright tools of her work, is woven throughout the knitting.

Blodwen is smiling, and seems quite content.

[Warning: Please be aware that the knitting project contains a trap-spell in it, one that is touch-activated. Capture is not automatic and is based on resulting interaction.]

Comments

[and-far-away.livejournal.com]

Sharpe, heading outside to exercise the dog and possibly stop by the stables and meet Tequila, nods to her politely in passing.

[white_flowers]

"Why, hello, dear." The light soft voice is warm and kind, as is her smile. Blodwen does not stop her knitting.

[and-far-away.livejournal.com]

"Evening, ma'am." He stops, if she wants to talk.

[jack_inthegreen]

Jack wanders past, eating an apple, and pauses to watch. "Industrious," he remarks.

[white_flowers]

She looks up, smiling warmly, and as she makes eye contact with

(Herne - the Hunt)

him, her smile freezes, and her hands stop moving.

"Do you think so, dear?" The light musical voice is very soft, and very wary.

[oneman_onevote]

Someone else nearby is also working on something which causes flashing of light-on-silver, and as far as can be told behind a coolly blank expression, seems similarly content to be doing so.

Havelock nods politely at her over the slender knife he is sharpening.

[white_flowers]

The flash draws her eye, and then a warm smile.

"So industrious! My goodness, but it is lovely to see that I am not the only one who cannot be without something to do."

The light soft voice is kind.

[steak-man.livejournal.com]

Cypher passes by, Stoli with lime in hand, muttering to himself, sunglasses on.

He seems to move into slow motion as his steps take him past Blodwen, however. His head turns slowly, slowly, watching the clack of the needles, taken in by the cloud-white wool, and finally, his eyes moving over her face.

He stops dead still in front of her, mystified. "Hi."

[white_flowers]

She smiles warmly at him, ice-blue eyes bright in her friendly round face.

"Why, hello, dear."

Silver needles flash - click - flash in a constant rhythm.

[creator_raven]

There is a very loud thump from somewhere behind her right shoulder.

It is probably the landing of a man who was, until a few seconds ago, a lump of black feathers plummeting from the rafters.

Or a bird, but sometimes description is fun.

"You are very industrious, perhaps."

He blinks at her knitting.

"Also persistent."

[white_flowers]

She does not, quite, jump, although her hands jerk, and with a muttered word she begins to pick up the dropped stitch.

"A great deal of difficulty I have had, mending what you have broken, cariad." The light soft voice is not very warm at all, and her smile is sharp and glinting.

[nita_callahan]

A few seats away, Nita is watching the rhythm of the knitting over the rim of her teacup.

[white_flowers]

Blodwen smiles warmly at the young woman.

"Why hello, dear."

The silver needles click merrily along as she works.

[timsbooks.livejournal.com]

And Tim wanders up, tea in hand, watching her work.

"Interesting work."

[white_flowers]

"Why, thank you dear," she says, smiling warmly up at him.

Ice-blue eyes are wide and seemingly innocent.

"It is only that I do so enjoy making things."

[mahtigwess.livejournal.com]

Know what else I've found is knife-bright?

The blade of a knife.

Leastwise, that Havelock fellow ain't th'only one with a bit of cutlery spinnin' round his fingertips. O'course, this knife's th'sort as ends up bitin' into wood, to carve and shape and change and create, 'stead've just sharpenin' a blade.

Reckon maybe that's just because this particular blade don't need no sharpenin'. Certainly not right now.

[white_flowers]

Quite a place, this is, with so many creatures of the Wild. The silver needles click and flash as she works, and Blodwen smiles at him.

"Busy, you are."

The light soft voice is warmly amused.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

And knitting is such a perfectly normal thing, that Wellard has to take a second look to see that it is what Blodwen is actually doing.

It is.

He watches quietly for a moment, book and charts carried under one arm.

[white_flowers]

"So quiet you are," she says kindly, glancing up at him. "Hello, dear."

[the_seafarer]

White, cloud (snow) white always catches his eye, and Caspian, coming in from the stables with a gust of cold air, watches her needles working as he walks to the bar for his usual cup of tea.

And because he passes close enough by that it would be impolite to not greet her, he nods to her politely, and offers a cheerful, "Good evening."

[white_flowers]

"And a good evening to you too, dear." Blodwen smiles warmly at the tall young man with the bright hair, and silver needles continue to flash and click as she works.

"Such a pleasant evening, too."

[smallestopener]

Children can move quickly. One moment they're there, the next, they can be gone. Even with a Companion, a nanny, a big brother, and two parental figures keeping an eye on her, Ingress has slipped away from the House of Arch.

Tom had a talk with Ingress this very afternoon about not speaking to Mrs. Rowlands ever again. He told her the basic reasons why.

Megwyn didn't know her Chosen had left, but she does now, as Ingress arrives in front of Blodwen's table dressed in footie pajamas and a robe. Ingress ignores her pleading voice inside her mind.

Ingress is six-years-old, but she has the heart of a Herald and a stubborn streak. One day she will fight the forces of evil in her world. But right now she has something to say to this woman who taught her how to knit and who, in Ingress's eyess, betrayed her, though she couldn't use that word to describe the hurt she's feeling.

"You're not my friend anymore. I don't like you. I wish you'd never come here."

[white_flowers]

"Why, Ingress, cariad!" She sounds absolutely shocked, and her hands still on the knitting.

"What has happened, to make you so angry?"

[dragonofgrey.livejournal.com]

(Too late for Draco to check in tonight? Willing to slowtime)

[white_flowers]

(Not at all! Sorry for delay in answering, and have tagged his post.)