Difference between revisions of "Logs:That's The Beauty Of It"

The weather's poor and growing poorer this time of year, with a cool spray blowing off the sea and a storm threatening the horizon. Many of the settlement's residents have retreated into their huts or better yet, the stone safety of the caves. Jaques, though, lingers at the doorway, propped up against the rock wall with his arms crossed as he looks out over the deserted camp.

A sad, unhappy few have had to spend the day out in those elements. Rhaelyn is one of those people just coming in from the weather now, looking muddy and worn thin as she carries a laden basket in both hands. She offers a faint smile to Jaques as she passes him, doing a bit of a double-take that he's there at the doorway instaed of lounging in the warmth inside the protection of the caves. "Hello there. Waiting for someone?"

The arrival of others earns a brief glance from Jaques, but little more than that until Rhaelyn speaks to him. "Mm?" he says, blinking as he looks around at her. "Ah. No, not really. Just--looking." He frees one hand to wave at the low clouds, the other staying wrapped around his middle. "Pretty out there, isn't it."

Sharp eyes stay on Jaques a moment or two longer, brows drawing together in question before she looks over her shoulder to see what he's talking about. "I guess so. Looks like trouble and rain and cold to me." THere's a smile for the end of it as she adjusts her basket, amused. "Not a very good view of it when my attention is on uprooting tubers." Not upset, just a fact.

"Still pretty," says Jaques with a lift of his shoulders. That one arm is tucked back around himself, and he gives a nod to the sky. "I like storms. You're not really into that whole bright-side thing, are you?"

A soft laugh answers Jaques and Rhaelyn gives her head a little shake, "I don't know, I guess it depends on what 'thing' I'm trying to see the bright side of. Guess I'm just not thrilled about the end of summer and the warm weather." Not knowing any different, summer seems downright balmy compaired to winter. She chews at her lower lip and adds, "I don't mind watching the storms, I just worry about them....lovely can turn to dangerious too quickly for my taste."

"If beauty's contingent on it not changing, then I guess nothing's pretty," muses Jaques idly. He slants another sideways look at Rhaelyn then, brows lifting. "Name one."

Rhaelyn's nose crinkles, halfway between forming a smile, as though she doesn't understand the statement the man just made. Her head shakes a little, "Well, beauty always fades." A pause and she questions, "Doesn't it?" She sets the basket down after a moment of being quiet, giving herself time to mull over the question posed to her. In time she answers, "For example, spending all day out in the mud and weather....the bright side is that we won't go hungry." This time the smile is full and bright, "And I love roasted tubers that auntie makes."

Jaques points out, "That's the beauty of it." As for the latter, her suggestions are waved off in a shake of his head, like they don't count at all on his tally. "Everybody likes those."

Rhaelyn watches Jaques after he brushes aside her suggestion, "Well, what would you suggest then that would be...worthy of seeing the brighter side of? I mean..." she holds out her muddy hands to give them a sad overview, "You weren't out harvesting the food in the rain and mud. Perhaps I don't understand the question though." She wips the hands on her apron and then slips out of it.

"Something--" But Jaques breaks off, shrugs again as he directs that dry not-quite-smile of his at Rhaelyn. "Ah, forget it. Don't matter anyway," he dismisses it all now. "Didn't mean to get all--" Whatever that was.

The girl tips her head to the side, "I don't understand, but alright." She bends and scoops up the basker full of tubers and grins back at Jasques. "I am going to go warm up by the fire and see if i can't get one of these roasted up. If you're done admiring the weather, you could probably talk me into adding another to the coals for you."

"You go on ahead," says Jaques, glancing over a shoulder toward the cave's interior: slightly less damp than the outside, at least. He, though, lingers by the door. "I'll be along in a minute."