Harvest Moon: Asterville Nova

[Minibit]

Tanitha did a marginally good job of hiding her smile. "No, it's fine, we were about to get something to eat, as well - please." she gestured permissively for John to walk ahead to the other end of the courtyard.

Patrick trailed behind her, gripping her lowered free hand in his rather clammy palm as they crossed the square. Tanitha tried to smile politely the odd time one of the other people milling about made eye contact, but the others present made no great crowd.

"Tabatha!"

Dimly, Tanitha realised the voice was a repeat; more insistent to capture her attention. She stopped, turning and letting John continue on ahead to the food. Her stomach growled in envy as her eyes landed on Roxann, robust, red-haired, and waving as she approached.

"Tabatha, you made it out!"

she smiled by way of answer, restraining a correction. It wasn't the first time someone had subliminally insisted her name was wrong, and it wouldn't be the last.

"And Hello little man! Are you having fun?" Roxann had dropped into a crouch, causing Patrick to reflexively jump back behind her legs. The stouter woman chortled as she straightened up. "But you should be socializing with the adults, dear; there's a children's circle by the fire, why don't you drop him there?"

She gestured toward the centre of the plaza where, surely enough, a few other children looking to be ranging between three and twelve were seated in a sloppy semicircle before a man with a peculiar sort of guitar.

 

[Laggy Lagiacrus]

John nodded, and took the lead. Though he walked at a leisurely pace, his sheer size made his stride almost wide enough for two people. He made an effort to slow down whenever Tanitha and Patrick appeared to be falling behind, however. Eventually, though, Tanitha's attention was directed elsewhere. He couldn't see her expression, but something told John that she was none too pleased about being denied her food. Though he himself was hungry, John was worried about making a bad impression - so much so that he decided that he would forego his appetite and wait for Tanitha.

Until he caught the smell of food.
His stomach growled, as if urging to him to abandon Tanitha and indulge in a meal. He did his best, but he could hold it no longer - he had to eat. But even so, leaving Tanitha was not an option to him. Thus, he waited until he caught her eye, and began gesturing towards the food, while mouthing something along the lines of "Do you want me to get you anything?" He wasn't the best at non-verbal communication, but he figured that the message would be clear enough.

 

[Minibit]

When Tanitha turned her gaze back toward Roxann, she caught a familiar figure over her shoulder - well, over most people's shoulders. He was mouthing something and gesturing rather comically toward the food table.

Her face lit as the interpretation clicked. Murmuring something like 'excuse me' to Roxann, she directed her eyes back to John with a nod and a smile. Her lips formed a soft 'oh' and she cast a meaningful glance to her son, who was still using her skirt as a shield between himself and the boisterous redhead waiting impatiently for Tanitha's attention to return.

The very second the blond's eyes were refocused on her, Roxann was striding forward, sloping her uncomfortably warm arm around Tanitha's shoulders and urging her forward toward the children's circle.

She slipped out of the half-embrace with a perturbed shrug, reaching down for Patrick's hot palm.

The musician sitting on the edge of what would probably be a fountain if water were properly plumbed through it, was strumming slowly as they approached, occasionally turning a wire slightly; tuning. Tanitha ushered Patrick to a seat next to her as Roxann detached behind them. She'd stay with him a minute, hopefully he wouldn't notice her slipping away once his attention was caught.

"Hello, hello everyone"

The music settled into a steady strumming as the young man looked up from his instrument and smiled at the semicircle seated around him. His sandy-coloured hair was long, and tied in a thin pony tail that ran down the back of his button-up shirt. He had a baby-face, and his smile brought a hint of rose to his cheeks. He reminded Tanitha a little bit of someone, but she couldn't quite place who.

The tune changed, becoming a springier as the musician tapped his foot in time

"I'll sing you a story, a story so old
These hills have forgotten when it was first told

Hiding 'neath daisies, and up in the trees
Tell me dear children, do you believe in fairies?"

His tone turned conversational at his last words as he looked up from his instrument to the children, a couple of whom were giggling.

"We water our crops, to make them grow high
They soak up the rays from the sun in the sky

But who waters the flowers, way out in the woods?
Who brings them the light, where the sun never could?

Who planted the cornfields up in the hills?
Who whispers to weeds, 'cause no one else will?



Who keeps the faith in the darkest of night?
Who else could it be but the harvest sprite!

Smaller than me, smaller than you
They can ride on your hat, hide in your shoe!"

 

[Laggy Lagiacrus]

"Ah."
A strange look crossed John's face when Tanitha gestured towards Patrick - one that made him seem expressionless, and at the same time, sheepish. He nodded briefly, and pointed to himself - then the table. He wasn't quite sure if she'd fully understood what he'd meant, but she seemed to have gotten the gist of it. Satisfied with this, John took two plates, and began stacking food onto each. As he gathered more and more food, however, the difference between them grew - as if he were holding a mountain in one hand, a molehill in the other.

He received a few odd looks as he went about his business, but he assumed most people wouldn't give it a second thought. He ws sued to the staring, anyway - whether they just shrugged and looked away or looked on in bewilderment was of no concern to him.
Once done, he found an empty space, and waited for Tanitha to finish with whatever she was doing. In one hand, he held what seemed to be a gargantuan pile of food for such a plate. It was hard to believe that there had even been that much food on the table. In the other hand, he held something that would barely feed a mouse.
It was the mountain that he held out in front of him.