12-10-08 - Do not drunken the dibbuns!!

RW Abbey: Great Hall

Characters involved: Harper, Viscus, Bradge, Sivaine, Tameus, & Jove.

Harper enters the Great Hall carrying a basket containing a variety of healing supplies. Crushed herbs, squares of cloth, and some sort of wet substance in a jar. He heads for the fireplace, seating himself on a cushion on the floor. He starts setting by the materials, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.

Viscus likewise wanders in, laden with a tray of food, and a large mug of hot tea. Settling himself by the fire, he glances over his goodies appreciatingly. He doesn't notice anyone immediately as he starts nibbling on a large scone. The lover-of-all-things-edible hums pleasantly at the warmth, before glancing around. He nods at the gathered, his tail flicking close to the flames.

Bradge arrives from the Staircase..

Bradge has arrived.

"Look, Sharpclaw, my arm's fine as soon as-" Sivaine pauses on the foot of the stairs and looks around the Great Hall, presumably for the aforementioned fox. No newly-minted Brother. "..huh," she mutters, looking rather disgruntled. There /is/ a Harper, but her radar's not on.

Harper unscrews the jar, scoops a bit out with a flat-edged knife. Scrapes it off into a small bowl, sprinkles in some herbs. And mix 'em all about.

Viscus waves to Siv for her to join his mini-feast, grinning happily. "Sivaine. Come you must..." he pauses as notices Sharpclaw finally, and his face grows somber for a second before he brightens. The fox is gone! Yay. Turning to the tea, he pours himself a mug of what appears to be elderflower tea, sipping gratefully. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation," he mumbles to Siv around a bite of straberry turnover.

"Oh. Viscus." Sivaine's turns her head that way. "No, I think it died a premature death. Have you.." Sniff. "Is that elderflower?" Led by her nose, she makes her way over.

Viscus chuckles as he pours her a mug. "Mmmm, someone has a connoissuer's nose for tea, hm?" Offering the mug, he pats the seat behind him, idly glancing to see what Harper's doing. "Mmmph," he grunts around a mouthful of hot turnover, almost spitting it back out. Remembering his manners, however, he bears the pain and swallows, wincing slightly. "I managed to scrounge up some still cooling foods for tomorrow. Luckily, the old Friar has fallen asleep on a sack of potatoes and probably won't notice them missing." He chuckles. "Come, sit, enjoy. I /will/ eat all of this myself, otherwise." Sometimes, the only creature that can outeat him, is probably a hare. But that may be a stereotype.

Harper's ears perk. He glances up, spies Sivaine and Viscus. Hm. He plucks up a square of cloth and holds it flat in his paw, spreading the pasty substance onto its surface. He sets it aside. Repeats the process.

"Something like," Sivaine half-grins, accepting the mug with thanks. "Though it's not.. very... ..." It's a very long pause, because she's just noticed certain novices. A change comes over her expression and she hovers where she is - hesitant, unsure, and making it worse with every passing second. "... ..oh."

Bradge toddles into the Great Hall, knocking snow off his moccasin shoes by kicking against the doorway. "No sense wearin' shoes, mah paws're cold anyways..." he mutters to himself, shuddering out the cold in his bones.

Viscus follows her gaze over to 'certain novices', then nudges her slightly, chuckling. "Here, try this scone. It goes will with the tea. And a little sugar, if you wish to ruin the tea altogether by sweetening it." He watches her for a second, keeping up the small talk, flicking his eyes back and forth, his knowing grin getting wider. "Honestly," he snorts softly to himself, but doesn't finish the sentence.

Harper seems to be handling the whole thing far better than Siv! He continues to repeat his process of preparing the poultices, occasionally replenishing the paste but otherwise not varying. His muzzle /does/ give the slightest of twitches, though. Hum-hum.

There's a bit of a delay between Sivaine's ears and her brain, and she belatedly starts. "What? No! No sugar!" Then she blinkblinkblinks and /glares/ at Viscus. Daggers, ice, and all manner of cold pointy things should be mentioned here, but the whole effect is rather ruined by the warm tinge creeping up her ears. "If you keep grinning like that I'll stuff a scone up your nose," she threatens, and has a deep drink of tea to calm her nerves.

Tameus arrives from the Staircase..

Tameus has arrived.

Jove arrives from the Staircase..

Jove has arrived.

Viscus giggles like a schoolgirl, but with a deeper voice. "Ahehehe, ahem." He pulls a straight face, then fails miserably, that pesky grin just carving up his face. "I, aheh, I'm sorry. Are you....blushing?" he lowers his voice considerably as he says this, glancing up at her ears. "Because...well, that's rather indictive of, well, you tell me." He clears his throat again, not sure what to do, then begins to edge away carefully. "Anyway, I best....gooooo back to the kitchen. I think I left some awakwardness--er, I mean, apple cordial there." He scampers off like a shot, hoping a scone does not strike him in the back or find its way up his nostril.

"/I am going to _kill you,_/" Sivaine growls after the cat, completely red now. "By starvation! Viscus!" Oh yes. She's handling this very well.

Bradge gives out another shudder, shaking off the cold, before venturing further into the Hall. He sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his paw, and then sniffing again. He gets up on his tiptoes, looking around for... something. It's not clear what.

Viscus can be heard laughing softly all the way from Cavern Hole, then it abruptly stops at her growl. There's a scampering of feet, and he's gone completely.

Just as Viscus scoots out, a teensy little Long Patroller scoots in. Tameus looks the part, at least, because he's wearing a much overlarge uniform jacket, hop-skipping down the steps - singing. "Th' firs' ol' lady .. was ol' missus Pymm! Sh' wen' 'nside onna p'sonal whiiim..!"

Sivaine tries to fry the long-gone feline with her glare, but there's no screams, flames, or people running to safety. She eyes her teacup. Down the rest without ceremony. "..brilliant."

Meanwhile, Harper keeps on with his spot of work. He finishes with the current batch of paste, wipes the bowl clean, and starts afresh, this time drawing from another set of herbs. All very exciting stuff, natch. He glances up at Sivaine only once, smiles, and down he looks again. The distant singing only perks his ears.

Tameus bounds off the last step, lands, and does a little spin with the jacket held off the ground like a ballgown. "Sh' some'ow got /stuck/! .. twixt th' bowl an' th' riiim! Riii-iii-iiimmm! ... an' nobody knew sh' was there!"

"I didn' even teach yeh tha' one!" comes a shout from the stairs, and a moment later a stocky haremaid comes bounding down. The pants are Long Patrol issue but she's in her shirtsleeves. "Tam!"

Sivaine hunches her shoulders, trying to disappear into her cloak again. "Ehm. So. Hi," she coughs, trying to sound nonchalant and casual at Harper. Thankfully there's a /wonderful/ distraction, which she immediately turns her attention to. Harper? Harper who?

Tameus has seen Harper! And so to Harper he goes, prancing, singing.. not quite keeping in a straight line. "Th' secon' ol' lady.. was ol' missus Draper! Sh' used th' .. heheh, heheheheheh.." He hiccups. "... but /'Arper/! Sh' /couldn'/ /fin'/ th' /paper/!"

Bradge sniffs. And plods along. "Somebeas' make..." His eyes catch on to and follow Tameus. Whatever he was saying just got lost.

"Flippin' 'eck," Jove mutters under her breath against and chases right after, trying to snatch up the dibbun as she gets close. "N'wondah Mum onleh made 't t'one."

"..Tam?" Sivaine ventures, her brow wrinkling. Sure, he's exuberant, but it's more the wobbling and hiccups that get her attention. She looks to Harper to see his reaction.

Harper no one, clearly. He doesn't exist! Well, he does once Tam prances over though. He... blinks. Sets down the flat-edged knife he's been working with. Wipes his paws on his habit.

Tameus plants his hands against Harper's chest and leeeans up. Their faces are very close when he says in a stage whisper, "Y' know what 'appened nex', 'Arper?"

Bradge is, of course, a bit stunned. His eyes stay on the odd-acting hare Tameus, eyes only ungluing to gauge the expressions of the adults that are around.

Tameus springs up and latches his arms around Harper's neck. His muzzle is aimed at the ceiling and he sings out, "All sh' coul' fin' waaaaas! .. a brick mason's /scraaaaaper/!!"

"Who. Gave him somethin' to drink." Pity that fool, oh do.

Tameus stops for a moment, still hanging on the novice. "... this. This is m' /fav'rite/ part, though, 'Arper. 'Arper, y' listenin'? 'Arper, 'Arper.." He lets go, turns with a little twirl of the jacket, and stares around the hall.

Bradge blink-blinks. "Er. Anybeas' want tea? I's jes' about ta go get some." He's mostly looking at Tameus.

Harper stares at Tam, a tad on the blank side. His eyes turn up the stairs, where the other voice issue from. It's gone. He looks around at Bradge. "Food. Somethin'... bread."

Whatever verse he was about, Tam is distracted from. He wanders away, aimed for Bradge, but sort of curves to one side on the path and then hop-skips sideways to get to where the otter is. "Pssst. Psssssssssssssstt. Hey. Heyheyheyy."

Bradge nods to Harper. "Somethin' bread." And then his brows raise considerably high once he's accosted by Tameus. "'ey, mate. You need anythin'?"

"Psst, c'mere," Tameus mumbles. His smile is a mile wide and .. conspiratorial. The buck tries to fix the height difference by reaching, taking ahold of an arm, and /pulling/ Bradge down to his level.

"Maybe I'll get the tea 'n' bread," Harper starts to stand, starting that way.

Bradge's nose wrinkles up, and he recoils his head back from where it'd been dragged down. "'ey, mate... Y'breath smells funny." The young otter frowns after the other novice. "Make it mint tea, Harper."

"Does 't?" the kit giggles. He huffs out on Bradge's face, grins, and then reaches to take ahold of the otter's face with both hands. "... y' know. I jus'. Really. /Really/. I jus' wan' y' t' know somethin'..."

Harper grunts, pushing the door open and stepping through. He'll be a mo', folks!

Tameus concludes, solemnly, "Y' are so .. /sooo/... so /bee/-/oo/-/tee/-/fuuuuul/..."

Bradge just kind of stares at Tameus. "'at's a song you should croon t'yer sweet'eart, mate."

Tameus beams. "I will! I will do /jus'/ that! Heheheh.. when I fin' one t' croon t'!" And he leans around, seeming to find something interested about the otter's small, roundish ear. It's tugged on.

Tameus says, "... y'r ears don' /flop/!""

"Nope." Bradge leans his ear in, face showing just the /slightest/ bits of discomfort. "Yer right on with that'n. You, uh. Reckon ya could leggo?"

Tameus doesn't really cooperate. In fact he tries to climb up onto Bradge, hoisting himself with a tug on the otter's head. "... y' know what we sh'd do? We sh'd go up /there/!" He points, up, and holds onto Bradge with the other arm while looking for a way to get up to the rafters.

"I ain't ever tried to grow wings, but I guess I could /try,/" Bradge humors the leveret, his paws sort of... Trying to dislodge Tameus from his self. "Heheh, 'ey, leggo now, serious."

The pointing hand turning into a stretched up, grabby one. Tam's fingers open and close, wantingly.

Harper comes back in with a tray. Tea, broth, and bread. He sets the tray smoothly down on a table, gives Bradge an apologetic look. "Tammy." Tam-tam-tam.

Tameus twists around, still holding onto the otter. He's not even touching the floor now; his feet press into Bradge's stomach. "'Arper! 'Arperarperarperarperrrr. C'mon, come wit' me. There's gott' be /some/.. /wayyy/..." Pointing again, with new enthusiasm. His hand waves around.

"Ggh." Bradge leans forward, one paw grabbing at Tam's shoulder to steady him, the other one trying to get those feet out of his belly. "'ey, Harper brought ya some food, look!" His head flicks over to the tray. "C'mon, leggo o'me."

Harper leans forward, hooking his paws around Tam's waist. He lifts. "Time t'eat, Tam."

Tameus cliiings to the back of Bradge's neck with one hand, the other arm flailing. Then the otter is free, free! - because the buck is tugged away and dangles in Harper's hold, kicking his feet. "Can't /eat/! There's s' much t' /do/!"

"Eatin' is one thing t'do, Tam. You have t'eat to do other things." That's right! Why? Because.

"Nnnuh-uh," the little buck argues, shaking his head. "Don' wann' /eat/ 'Arper.. heheheh.. eat. 'Arper..." He twists and reaches to gnaw on the novice's shoulder. "Grrwwrghh!!"

Bradge whews, and steps back, rubbing at his neckfur. "Bout tore off mah fur, mate. Got a heckuva grip on ya." And... He's left just staring again. He's biting.

"Ahm..." His paws stick out, but he's not quite sure how to help in this situation.

"Grrffghhhnnhrrf!" goes the leveret.

"Nnngh," Harper grits out. He doesn't try to dislodge the dibbun. He bites back a sigh. Reasoning with a young child who is drunk. This'll be fun! Uhhh. "Tammy, do you like throwin' up? Tammy!" He adds, trying to catch his attention.

Bradge's ears just sort of flick. "Throwin' up? Aw I can't stand throwin' up. I can't even watch other beasts throw up 'cause it makes me feel all sick an' I reckon if'n he throws up I jes' might too, Harper. He ain't gonna throw up is 'e?"

Tameus noms for another moment while he rearranges himself in Harper's hold to be facing him. "Heh," he responds, "I like throwin' ... ROCKS!" Yes, rocks. "'Arper!!" He bounces. "'Arrrrrper. Taye sai' 'e's gonn' teaaach, heh. Teach me! T' use a sling! An' then Jove said /she/ woul' 'cause Taye's 'urt an' y' /punched/ 'im. Hee! Y' did punch 'im, righ' 'Arper? Righ' 'Arper, righ'? Y' punched 'im!"

"Tammy, if you don't eat some o' this bread 'n' broth, yer gonna throw up. If you wanna throw up, that's fine. S'not so fun, though." Harper is going to kill Jove.

Tameus chitters and puffs up his face for a moment, squirrel-like. His scut wags. "Y' hit 'im, didn' y'? Tell me why y' 'it 'im, 'Arper, I wann' know /whhhhhyeeee/.."

Okay. So he wants to throw up. Bradge is given a look. "Gimme a piece o' that bread?" He holds out a paw.

"Uh... Yeah, Tam." Bradge learned a name. "Ya better go eat up so ya don't throw up." He might not get /why/ but he'll just go with Harper on this one. So when he's asked to go get some, he almost bounds over to the tray and grabs a piece of bread, a nice chunk of it, and offers it to the leveret. "'ere ya go."

Tameus's fingers curl around the bread. He tugs it in against his chest to cradle like Taye-doll between himself and Harper.

"Tam." Louder. "Tam. Eat the bread, don't hug it." Mutter grumble grr and so on. Harper glances towards the stairs again.

"..Um." It's the first word Sivaine has spoken for a.. good long while. She's completely forgotten about her empty tea mug and just holds it there as if she's expecting a refill, unable to quite believe what she's seeing.

Tameus closes his eyes and sways a little. Sways. And then starts to hum. "Th' .. thir' ol' lady was .. ol' missus Parted..." The fingers on one hand tap on the bread.

Bradge watches the leveret with a certain amount of curiosity. "Is 'e gonna be okay, Harper?"

Tameus sings a little louder, "Sh' paid 'er peeenny annn' .. 'nside sh' /darted/.."

"Would someone. Please. Go get Jove." Harper is clearly trying to control himself, here. He plucks the piece of bread from between himself and the dibbun. Glances at Bradge. "I dunno how much he drank." SHrugshrug. "Probably going t'be sick as a dog, later."

Sivaine visibly winces. "I'll just.. be right back," she mutters, and makes for the stairs before the inevitable rhyme comes.

Tameus makes a grabbing motion for the bread as it's pulled away, but it's half-hearted. "Nnf. ... whadda waste'a a /penny/!" he announces, sing-song, "'cause sh' on'y..!" Pause; for effect. Then he plants his mouth against the side of Harper's muzzle and goes, "PHBBBBBBBTT!!"

"I... I'll go get 'er." Bradge kind of looks worried at Tameus, and sort of jogs off towards the stairs. Er. He turns around. "Who's Jove?"

"This isn't a romance," Sivaine mutters as she disappears up the stairwell, too quietly to be overheard. "This is a black comedy."

Oh. My. Harper jerks back, looking icked. Huh. He brings a paw up, wiping his cheek. "Tammy, don't do that," he murmurs. He watches Sivaine head off. Bradge gets a glance, to whom he merely nods towards the stairs, indicating the back of Siv. "She's a patrol hare. Siv'll no doubt lead you to her."

It.. doesn't take long for Sivaine to return. In fact, she probably didn't even make it up to the second landing, because there's an "Ah-HA!" and an "OY!" followed by a "Downstairs, /now,/" in frostbitten tones and Siv sort of guiding a very guilty-looking Jove back down with glares and little shooing motions to keep her in the right direction. "Now look," Jove is starting to say, but "Harper, don't kill her," the mouse interjects. "You took an oath."

A sober Tameus would be upset at getting that kind of look from his Favorite Guy Ever. This Tameus is not sober, and doesn't notice. He keeps humming, head bobbing a little, then shoots his ears up at the noisy arrival.

Bradge is barely walking up the stairs before he's walking backwards, stumbling down the last few and landing on his backside. "Er, foun' Jove, I reckon." The otter rolls over and gets up, wiping off his habit.

"Look, there's a verra good explanation f'r this," Jove starts, nose quivering. She eyes Tam. "..'e asn' got t'th'sixth verse yet, 'as 'e?"

The kit leans far out away from Harper, beaming. "Heyy Jove! 'Arper, 'Arper, Jove's a /p'vate/! Sh' gave me 'er /jaaacket/!" He forgets to hold onto Harper, even, because he's hiking up the jacket and hugging it to himself.

"Do you make it a habit of givin' young dibbuns spirits?" is all Harper says. Tameus gets ignored for the moment.

"Jooo-ooove!" Tam about croons at the doe.

"Jove 's gonn' be on probation f'r a month of Sundehs," the haremaid mutters, then blinks at Harper, truly, genuinely nonplussed. "There's a problem wi' tha'? I tol' 'im a dram 'n th'little buggah knocked th'bottle in." There's a little finger-wiggling wave at the kit, but no more.

"../spirits,/" Sivaine groans. She has to close her eyes for a moment.

Tameus giggles as he twists his body in Harper's hold, mimicking the finger-wag. Beaming.

Bradge's head goes back and forth between all the adults. "Tam's... 'aunted?"

"No. He's drunk," Sivaine crisply replies, with a very pointed look at the hare. Then a warning glance to Harper. Don't make that rumor of punching a Patroller a reality.

"'aunted!" the kid picks up on. "Whooo, ahhhh, ooooohh! Th' abbey's 'aaauunted!!" His arms windmill.

"I imagine we might pick up a ghost or two," Sivaine mutters. "Or at least some wailing."

"How much did you /pour/?" Harper asks, actually sounding semi-patient.

Bradge's eyes still go between everyone else. He seems to be letting the rest of this for them. Well, mostly. "How'd 'e get drunk? Dibbuns ain't allowed to drink."

"Eh." Jove holds up her thumb and forefinger, indicating a very small amount. Then it doubles - still a very small amount. "/Tha',/" she states. "S'not gonn' do 'nythin'. M'dad'd give m'tha' much when ah was 'is age." Never mind that she was probably quite a bit heftier than Tam, and, not to put too fine a point on it, shaped like a potato. "'E tipped th'rest in-" She indicates a considerably larger amount. "'n went bouncin' ovah th'beds guzzlin' the lot, aftah ah'd told 'im tha' was a bad ideah."

"Quick li'l buggah," Jove sniffs. "Be a good runnah someday."

Tameus waves his hands in front of Harper's face. "There's a /ghost/ in th' /abbey/, 'Arperrr!!"

Harper looks. Non-plussed. "All right, then. Jove. He stands, lifting Tameus as he does so. He walks over towards her, holding Tameus under the armpits and out to her. "He is your responsibility until he's sober. I would recommend you wait it out in the infirmary, and I would further recommend that you find a change of clothing, for when it all comes up."

As he gathers the story, Bradge kind of stands idly by, paws folded politely behind his back.

Tameus kicks his legs a little, expression turning quizzical. "'Arrrper." Kick kick. "Heh, heheheh! Now y' gots t' /twirl/ me! M' dad used t' do 't!"

"Tha'," says Jove as she accepts the leveret, "was m'plan in th'firs' place." She blinks at Tam, and shifts him to a sort of side-carry - hugging him around his midsection would be a Bad Idea right now. "..nnnnh," is her reaction to his suggestion. "Mebbe if ah was surrounded by a band o'vermin an' needed an impromptu weapon. C'mon, yeh blightah. We're 'avin' a talk about followin' ordahs."

"An' th' /spirit/ of 'm, ratha' than th'lit'ral. Y'r one o tha' corkscrew thinkahs."

Tameus twists and looks around. Being passed from Harper to someone else melts the grinny expression right off and he warbles uncertainly. "'Arper? 'Arper.." His hands push against Jove as he tries to squirm away.

Sivaine just watches, impassively. Harper's being quite sane; her services aren't required. Her brow does furrow a little at Tam's change of mood though.

Bradge's round ears flicker worriedly. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"'Arper," Tam mumbles, twisting still - wanting to be let down.

"Tammy, you 'n' Jove're gonna play fer a bit. She c'n teach you s'more songs," Harper says. But he's eyeing Jove, to see /her/ reaction.

Jove's nose twitches, but she keeps a firm hold on the kit as he squirms. She glances, briefly, at Harper, then gives Tam a little hitch up. "Righ'. Y'wanted t'hear 'Ah Wish Ah'd Nevah Kissed 'Er,' righ'?"

"Nn-nn," Tameus mutters, shaking his head, pushing at the doe. "Nn-nn!!"

"'Colonel Crapski?'" Jove suggests, starting to look at bit worried. "Ah'll do th'gesturin'."

Tameus writhes and bares his teeth a little. Not Happy.

Sigh. "C'mon. Yeh da'll still beh down 'ere once yer sobered up. Well. Yer 'Arper. Same dif'." Jove gives a little nod to Harper and, using her tunic to roll the leveret into a sort of Tam-burrito, tucks this bundle squarely under her arm and trots for the stairs.

Tameus looks like he might cry. Or be sick. He chirps for Harper, unable to squirm much now because of how he's bundled - but he tries.

Harper watches them go with a bitten back sigh. He shakes his head. Not fun, buuuut. He glances briefly at Sivaine, and then away. "Poultices t'finish," he mutters to himself. Meh. His ears flatten back.

Tameus chirps pathetically - like a baby bird.

( Jove tsks under her breath, but doesn't slow her pace. "Yeh'll b'fine," she mutters, tucking an extra fold back should Tam really /be/ sick. "'E'll be righ' downstairs." )

Tameus shoves one hand against the top opening of the wrapped jacket, enough to get his shoulder free and trying to see toward Harper as he's carried away.

Sivaine watches, still with that cool, removed expression. It's.. distant, as if her real thoughts are somewhere else entirely. "I'll just go get some tea," she murmurs quietly, not looking at Harper.

Tameus gives a last plaintive chirp and closes his eyes, not fighting anymore.

Harper nods, but doesn't say anything. He kneels back by the fire, where he was working. He runs a paw through his headfur.

Sivaine sweeps off quietly toward the kitchen. It's a good sweep, what with the cloak and all.

Bradge just stands there. Should he do anything? He's unsure. Paws fiddle with themselves.

"Bradge!" Sivaine calls from the kitchen. "I need your help."

Ack. Bradge jumps, and nearly sprints to the kitchen. "Aye? Whatch'need?" He scampers out of the Great Hall.

Harper glances towards the kitchen. "Sounds like ya'd better go, mate." And he's gone. Ha.

"Paws! Two of them!"

[A little time passes.]

"So." Sivaine is a sudden apparition outside the circle of chairs, ghostlike in her all-enveloping cloak. Her gaze is cool and dispassionate over the rim of her tea mug, which she sips from without taking her eyes off Harper, and her voice is that quiet, melodic murmur devoid of emotion. "That hurt to watch." Sip.

So Sivaine has her cup of tea. Which means Bradge has every other drop of tea in this particular batch. Thanks. The otter pup carries a tray way out in front of him, watching the teapot and other cups with wide eyes, as if willing them not to drop off the sides of the tray with his gaze.

Apart from an ear flicker toward the otter as he enters, Sivaine doesn't move. "On the table, Bradge. Thank you," she murmurs.

Harper has resumed his poultice-making in the interim. He glances up. "Did it?"

"Yes, ma'am," is the response she gets, the otter seeming to move slower, more carefully as he nears the table. Reach, reach, and... He sets the tea down. It may be a surprise that he doesn't sigh in relief. "Anythin' else?"

"No, that's all. You're a great help, Bradge," Sivaine calls without raising her voice, and takes a long sip from her cup. Her eyes are flat, half-lidded over. "It did," she replies, as if she were remarking on the weather. "I assume you had your reasoning."

Bradge steps back, then back again, then bows. "Ma'am." He turns and walks toward the stairs, taking that as more of a thank you, then dismissal than just a mere thank you.

Harper fiddles with a square of cloth, as of yet unpoulticed. "I did," he agrees. Close-mouthed, much?

No brow raise. No mouth quirk. Just another long sip of tea, and the briefest of blinks. "And?" Her ear angles toward the departing otter, then returns to a forward position.

"I'm not sure that I feel like explaining myself," Harper replies with surprising calm. And his eyes glance upward, frank and honest in the firelight. "Nor do I feel like bein' scolded."

"I'm not scolding you." Sivaine is an iceberg of calm. "I'm curious. It's a trait of mine."

Harper quirks his brow, a trifle wryly. "You'd investigate things t'yer very last breath, if you could." Pause. "But I expected the scolding t'come after, not now."

"I like to know what I'm dealing with," is all Sivaine says. Still no movement, apart from that languid tea-drinking. Her brows arch, ever so slightly. "And you're not a kit."

Harper shakes his head. Bites back a sigh. "No. M'not." He lowers his head back to his work, though it's not meant to be dismissive. Just. Something to do. "Do you s'pose Tam's had much in the way o' discipline these past few months?" It's phased as just an idle question, but oh, Siv, she's a wily one.

"Ah." A slow smile with absolutely no humor in it appears behind the cup. Another sip. Sivaine cants her head ever so slightly to the side, observing the buck in silence.

Harper doesn't say anything else. Just works.

"Not the Patroller's fault, then." One more sip leaves only dregs in Sivaine's cup. She moves to the tray brought courtesy of Bradge, and bends her head to occupy herself with refilling her drink.

"Oh, no. Most certainly the Patroller's fault," Harper disagrees.

"Entirely?" Sivaine watches the liquid spiral off the spout.

"It wouldn't have happened if she had more sense than a nit," Harper near-mutters.

"True enough." With a graceful motion of her wrist, Sivaine rights the teapot and sets it down. "That's not the same thing, though."

Harper finally looks up, again. "Why don't you tell me what you think, Siv."

She has her eyes closed now and the cup to her nose, inhaling the scented steam. "I don't think. I've never raised children, just Ardice. Aunt Peh handled most things if I kept an eye on her."

"Then why're you actin' like you think I did somethin' wrong?" Harper asks quietly.

You room page-pose, "Harper dies laughing at a thought."

Now Sivaine looks at him. Her expression is still impassive, but there's a sense it's thawed. "I'm thinking. It takes a lot of energy. Ibrought you tea," she replies. "If you want it. I haven't bitten you or stolen your crutches, which are my usual methods."

Was that - oh, oh! Was that a small grin? Well. It was a muzzle twitch, anyway! Harper nods, acknowledging this. "Well. Thanks. Hopefully you won't come up with any other methods." He takes the tea, because. Tea is good. Sipsipsip. "I don't want him t'think that what he did was okay. If I just gave in 'n' played with him 'n' dismissed it as 'oh, he's just a dibbun', he'd... never learn. He's bein' watched, he's safe in the infirmary, 'n' I'm right here if they need me. I wouldn't 'n' I won't abandon him. But I can't just be his friend if I want to be his Da'."

"Oh, I don't have to /come up/ with them," Sivaine replies. Some of the stiffness goes out of her posture. "I just have to search my memory. Did you know, there's this little tribe near the Broadstream that strings up interlopers by their.. m'hm. Well." She clears her throat and takes a sip of tea, gaze demurely lowered. "There's more of the answer I was looking for. I assume he'll be getting a similar explanation."

"Assumin' he even remembers any of this come mornin'," Harper muses. Shakes his head. "That Jove's lucky I /have/ taken an oath..." See? He /was/ listening.

"I think Wendicott was exaggerating a bit on timespan, though," Sivaine considers the rafters. "There's no way they wouldn't drop off after a week." Her gaze flicks back to him. "He'll remember being taken away from you, though," she cautions. "Somewhere. If only in dreams."

The mouse gets only an amused look at all this before he continues. "I think this will all have t' be rolled into the 'hey, I'd like to be yer Da' speech." Heh.

Sivaine raises an ironic brow. "Thought you were going to talk to him in the morning," she remarks. Sip.

"He tends to sneak off 'n' away for things like..." He waves his paw vaguely towards the stairs. "This. It's a bit distractin'." Heh.

"I resorted to a leash and harness at one point," Sivaine replies. She looks toward the stairs - no screaming Tam or unsettling silence, just the sounds of the ancient stonework settling in for the night. There's a second's hesitation, and then she moves to sit beside him on the flagstones. "But she chewed through it." Sip.

Harper snorts into his own tea, smirking against the cup's rim. "Mm," he chuckles. "Try two at once."

"Are you implying there's truth to the old superstition that twins are a bad omen?" Sivaine hasn't slipped back into her usual dry drawl yet - still those carefully modulated alto murmurs - but she's sounding quietly amused, at least.

Harper smiles slightly. "D'I look like the sort to hold supertitions?" No, really, does he? He grins at her. Sipsip.

Sivaine regards him over the edge of her mug. "You might," she murmurs. Her eyes are still lazy-lidded, but the little smirk coaxing at the corner of her mouth completely changes the effect. "But one of the cardinal rules of stories is not to judge by appearances."

Harper chuckles. "Mm," he murmurs. "I see." He hms. Leans over, rests his head on her shoulder. "I'm sleepy. Will you be around tomorrow afternoon?"

There it is again - that little jolt at the sensation of physical contact. It's tiny, but there - Sivaine's eyes widen and she sits a millimeter more upright, frozen for a second of time. "I," she starts. Remembers to breathe. Relaxes back. "I should be. Why?"

Harper shrugs. Grins. "You'll see."

Sivaine regards him askance with a wry smile. "Now you /want/ me to be curious."

Harper nods. Grins a bit more - much like a fiendish little kid. "Yep."

There's a pattering on the stairs at this point, announcing Jove - still sans coat - with a sleepy-looking Tam draped over one shoulder. "..heh," she grins, watching the two. A grin like that shouldn't /exist./ "So ah figgered e's 'bout run out of steam, 'n.. othah things." She sniffs. "'E was callin' f'yeh."

THe wry smile tugs into a smirk, then drops off Sivaine's face like a hot iron through butter. She goes very still and poker-faced.

Over-the-shoulder is not Tam's favorite way to be carried - but he's too groggy to argue. Post-vomit and with the effects of the alcohol wearing off, the little buck is sleepy and a little ill-looking; nothing a good night's rest won't clear up.

Harper's smile goes a trifle resigned as Siv gets all. Siv-ish! He chuckles to himself, standing up and walking across to Jove and Tameus. He reaches out, transferring the sleepy one from her arms to his, kind of curling him against his chest. He smells ripe, but Harp doesn't seem to mind. "Thanks, Jove." Sounds genuine, too. "Next time just pour a dram, eh?" Oooor better yet, not at all! His paw curls lightly 'round the back of Tam's neck. Topofheadkiss.

Now /this/ is how he likes to be held. Tam is on his back in Harper's hold, curled in against his chest, and he gives a sleepy 'nnh' in reply, muzzle pushing at Harper's chest and holding onto the front of his habit with a teensy hand.

"Righ', well." Jove twitches her nose and peers at the kid as he's transferred. "Li'l buggah's not gonn' /have/ a next time 'til 'e c'n hold 'is drink." Disapproving nose twitch. Then her eyes sliiiiide up Harper's chest, dart over his shoulder to Sivaine, and back to his face with a grin. "Sorry t' - heh - disturb yeh." So much innuendo in five little words. "'Night Tam." She gives the leveret's headfur a ruffle, then goes prancing up the stairs.

( And now Sivaine looks just a trifle resigned herself. She tilts her mug toward her, studying its contents without much interest. )

Tameus responds with a little grumbly sound.

Harper turns back to Siv once Jove is gone. "I'm going t'take him up. See you tomorrow, Siv. Don't forget," he warns, eyes twinkling.

"Oh." Sivaine looks over her shoulder, a little more quiet and hesitant than she should be. "No. I won't. Good night."

Tameus warbles sleepily against Harper's chest. "Nn-nn."

Harper's eyes soften a bit. "... Get some sleep, Siv." He crosses over to her real quick, ducking his head forward to peck her briefly on the cheek. "'Night." And with that, he turns and heads for the stairs. "Don't forget!" his voice comes down behind him, and then he's gone.

Tameus mumbles out, "'rper," and is completely asleep by the time Harper reaches the stairs.

Sivaine's lips part slightly. A few minutes pass. Then: "Fwbuh." Then a few more. Moving stiffly, eyes unfocused, she her mug down beside her, puts a tentative paw to her cheek, and watches the fire - or something just beyond it - in silence. It's some time before she bows her head, eyes closed with a smile only the faintest bit sad, and takes her mug into the kitchen. On her return for the tray, watches the stairs for a long moment.