In His Name

Chapter 17 - Temple of the mountain gods

Rosco feels someone gently shake his shoulder, trying to wake him, but the boy is not so easily roused. He pulls his blanket further up over his head, outside his nest he can hear a bit of muttering as whoever tries to decide what to do with him. Tansy helps out and solves the problem by mercilessly yanking on some curls. Rosco yelps, jolting upright, hurriedly shaking out his hair. The three other men who slept in the loft moving back, startled by his sudden outburst. Tansy snickers, buzzing over to inspect the other men while Rosco blinks, trying to process what he's looking at. All three of them appear to be older than Rosco, but not by terribly much. He'd learned last night that only two of them were actually employed at the inn while the other worked for one of the guests,

"Ahem," one of the nameless shapes begins, "We are about to head to get breakfast? If you wanted to join us?"

Rosco blinks again, rubbing his scalp where Tansy had pulled at his hair, scowling at the man who'd spoken, willing his eyes to force the speaker into focus.

"Let's just go." One of the others mutters from the back, "Kid's clearly not awake yet." There are mummers of agreement and some shuffling as they depart. Alone again, Rosco groans loudly, curls himself into a ball and mutters a string of curses that has Tansy gasping and putting a shocked hand over their mouth. The boy raises his head slowly, locking eyes with the wildflower, "I forgot you were here." He mutters sheepishly, "Please don't tell Hayden I said that." He begs.

Tansy laughs, filling the air with the music of their voice, nodding their agreement.

After orienting himself, Rosco heads down to find some food.

Being in the inn's kitchen reminds Rosco of Lolly's house, which means lots of noise and always full of people. Mr. Rosewood is singing as he prepares the breakfast for the day, stirring pots on the stove and pulling pans in and out of the oven, filling the inn with the scent of freshly baked breads. A plate is pushed into the boy's hands, some sort of roll that had failed to rise correctly, giving it a strange misshapen lumpiness. He's about to take a bite when Mr. Rosewood stops him, brushing some sort of sweet-smelling glaze over the top, not losing a beat in the song he's singing to flash the boy a grin. Taking a tentative bite, Rosco gasps at the taste, eyes growing to the size of saucers. It's warm and soft and the glaze so sweet his teeth hurt. Mr. Rosewood seems pleased by his reaction, tuning back to his pots with a smile threating to burst his cheeks. Marveling at the sticky goodness, Rosco brakes off a morsel, offering some to the wildflower on his shoulder. Tansy shakes their head and makes a big X with their arms.

"Oh," Furrowing his brow, "Do you eat something else then?"

The wildflower starts to speak and then shrugs. Rosco can't help feeling guilty, eating the whole roll himself, also completely stuffed. But the glaze was so good, the boy found himself licking his fingers after he was finished, even though it felt his stomach might rip itself open.

After his meal, Rosco heads back to the stable. Rowen is already up and knee deep in his own work, so Rosco hunts around for the shovel, setting himself to his task. Tansy ends up distracting Rosco just as much as they keep him on task. It's nice to have someone to talk to while he works, it's easier for him to get lost in the mindlessness of the task if he can let out the endless stream of thoughts dancing in his head. But it seems Tansy is just as scatter brained as he is, constantly wanting to pull the boy away to show him something interesting or begging him to explain the way some piece of equipment is meant to be used. At one point, Rosco is so far down his stream of consciousness, he's telling Tansy about the differences in mortar used in building stone houses by the sea or further inland. Tansy taps his nose to snap him out of it, gracefully drifting to the ground to point out he'd finished cleaning the stall some time ago.