- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Advanced
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, Romance, Horror, Mystery, Slice of Life, Modern, Post Apocalypse
Rye for the winter, apples on the way to town. She filed it away and looked around her with the peculiar feeling of knowing it was all hers. She'd never really owned anything substantial before. A car for certain, but nothing like land, or even a home. So it felt extra strange that she should own this and that it should be so far from anything she knew. But that was the point, wasn't it? That it was a foreign land were things were new and she could get lost in the work and lost in the learning.
She had been thrilled to see the barn, what was a farm without a barn, logic asked as she walked arm in arm with her guide. But then as they neared the impressive structure revealed itself to be in no better shape than the small cottage had been in. It was a daunting sight. For a moment she felt a wavering in her control, a moment of panic when she understood what a big job this was and how ill-equipped she was to be on this venture. She might have panicked for truth were it not for the solid feeling of Ciprian's arm through hers. She'd imposed on him, making the connection without asking and he'd bourn it. She knew full well she was going to impose on him again and again as time passed and she hoped he remained as patient and unflappable as her was proving to be.
She knew next to no Romanian, the words for good morning being the rare example of her linguistic prowess, but there was no mistaking the intent of the words that came from the barn. A quick staccato of words, with syllabus that rang with vulgarity and vehemence could be nothing but swear words. She fixed on them like a child hearing an uncle use forbidden words, with careful nonchalance but they slipped through her comprehension and were taken up by the breeze, lost to her and she didn't dare ask her sweet guide for a translation.
Before she could even consider the merits of asking for one, the men were coming out. She brightened, smiled and tried to be authoritarian if friendly farm owner. She might as well have not been there. One of them spoke and the strangest thing happened to Ciprian's expression. She couldn't pinpoint what had changed but suddenly he didn't look like himself. She felt her hand on his forearm tighten in reflex and then she forcefully loosened it and took a step from him as she was introduced. She lifted her hand to offer to shake a heartbeat after she realized she shouldn't have bothered as the men were looking past her through her as if she didn't exists even though all three of them had nodded. But then she realized that they weren't looking past her, but through her. This was something that shouldn't have felt any different, but did. They directed their words to Ciprian and while she felt a stab of annoyance she mostly knew that he'd have to translate regardless.
A moment, some awkwardness and then in a heartbeat, fueled by her good mood and her energy she decided if it was going to be awkward it might was well be and instructional awkward.
"Do I get to see the tractor?" she asked brightly.
She had been thrilled to see the barn, what was a farm without a barn, logic asked as she walked arm in arm with her guide. But then as they neared the impressive structure revealed itself to be in no better shape than the small cottage had been in. It was a daunting sight. For a moment she felt a wavering in her control, a moment of panic when she understood what a big job this was and how ill-equipped she was to be on this venture. She might have panicked for truth were it not for the solid feeling of Ciprian's arm through hers. She'd imposed on him, making the connection without asking and he'd bourn it. She knew full well she was going to impose on him again and again as time passed and she hoped he remained as patient and unflappable as her was proving to be.
She knew next to no Romanian, the words for good morning being the rare example of her linguistic prowess, but there was no mistaking the intent of the words that came from the barn. A quick staccato of words, with syllabus that rang with vulgarity and vehemence could be nothing but swear words. She fixed on them like a child hearing an uncle use forbidden words, with careful nonchalance but they slipped through her comprehension and were taken up by the breeze, lost to her and she didn't dare ask her sweet guide for a translation.
Before she could even consider the merits of asking for one, the men were coming out. She brightened, smiled and tried to be authoritarian if friendly farm owner. She might as well have not been there. One of them spoke and the strangest thing happened to Ciprian's expression. She couldn't pinpoint what had changed but suddenly he didn't look like himself. She felt her hand on his forearm tighten in reflex and then she forcefully loosened it and took a step from him as she was introduced. She lifted her hand to offer to shake a heartbeat after she realized she shouldn't have bothered as the men were looking past her through her as if she didn't exists even though all three of them had nodded. But then she realized that they weren't looking past her, but through her. This was something that shouldn't have felt any different, but did. They directed their words to Ciprian and while she felt a stab of annoyance she mostly knew that he'd have to translate regardless.
A moment, some awkwardness and then in a heartbeat, fueled by her good mood and her energy she decided if it was going to be awkward it might was well be and instructional awkward.
"Do I get to see the tractor?" she asked brightly.