The Wandering Wordsmith

Smoke and Roses

Conall

The inside of the house was even more impressive. Each room had a personality of its own. Conall couldn't help but shudder when he saw a whole room dedicated to war relics and all of Ana's family members that had gone above and beyond the call of duty for their country.

Ana told Conall to go outside the back and use the barrel of water to wash. He could throw on some of her brother's garments while she worked on his.

He left the clothes by the door before rushing outside. He just hoped Ana wouldn't look. The water was cold it stung the wounds that were littered all over his body, in the light of the sun he realised that they weren't as bad as he first thought. That was relieving.

The whole time he was washing he kept his hand firmly on his left shoulder right where his branding should be.

Not wanting to spend too much time naked he just scrubbed the worst of the blood stains off. Then he got out of the barrel and put on Ana's brother's clothes before entering the mouse again.

'' You didn't take long!'' Ana called from the kitchen.

''I don't like being without clothes,'' Conall said gathering his two pouches from a table in the hall. One for his money the other for his warra. He left his guitar where it was.

''Well you won't have to wait too long for your own,'' Ana told him.

''How long? I have to get going or I'm going to miss my deadline,''Conall followed her voice and soon found the kitchen where she was working with a sewing needle.

''It should only take me twenty more minutes. What deadline?'' Ana asked innocently.

''I'm meeting a friend in Icca so I have to catch the boat tomorrow.''

''They let you cross the borders? Why?'' Ana talked not even looking at her work.

''The privileges of being a talented musician,'' Conall was once again playing with the truth.

''Will you play for me?'' Ana asked she didn't even mean to she just did.

Conall was surprised at her sudden request.

''For you fair maiden, of course,'' Conall gave her a theatrical bow before leaving to get his instrument.

''Did you lose your six-string?'' Ana called after waiting a long moment for Conall to return.

Conall returned, skidding in the doorway ''Sorry I was tuning up. Meet Ceo,'' Conall said holding his guitar right in her face.

''You named your guitar?'' Ana didn't expect something like this from Conall.

''I'm weird, I know. But I don't really care,'' Conall started to play four simple notes before adding chords and strumming pattern.

Ana was mesmerized ''I think it's kinda cute actually,'' who knew a soldier make anything a gentle as the song that was being performed in her kitchen.

She felt her face heat up as what she had just said registered with her ''I mean that's a cute name! You're not cute. W-Well you're not bad looking, b-but,'' Ana stopped her panic when she saw Conall wasn't paying attention to her.

He was completely lost in his own world a world of chords and characters, songs and stories. As Ana let herself relax she felt lost in that world too.

The rest of reality seemed to fall away. Conall, the needle in her hand, everything was gone and she wandered aimlessly in this maze of motifs.

Then it stopped and she found herself sitting across from Conall his dark hair dancing in the wind that came through the open entry at one end of the kitchen. She looked down at her hands to find she had finished mending his clothes.