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Harold stretched his corded arms behind himself to unkink his sore joints before he settled himself down at one of the seats and gladly wrapped his hands around the hot mug of tea. It took a lot to resist the urge to belt it down for its warmth, but the scents from the impending meal steeled him in his need for unburnt tastebuds. If living with two older men had taught him anything, it was that any chance at a real cooked meal, take it and cherish it.

He bobbed his head and gave a slight smile to Vincent as he entered the hut, bemused at the odd fellows' meandering method. "Good to see ya made it through the winter." As the bundles and herbs spread around the dining table, he poked at a few curiously but left them mostly alone. He snickered a bit at the mention of the fertility booster, realizing he was likely the only one of the four with a child on the way. Of course, why Vincent was getting dosed, he wasn't quite sure. The only woman he'd known the mage to be around was his older mentor and carrying that thought further was quickly quashed. Now was not the time to make his appetite waver.

Harold licked his lips as the big pot of stew came to the table, rubbing his mitts in anticipation. "Oh, you don't needta worry about that, Fi. Nothin' but half-burnt bread and whatever happens ta be in the pantry for most meals makes this pure gold." Sliding his filled bowl closer, he was savoring the first mouthful when Maurice asked his question.

"Mmph? Flurrs?" He chewed and gulped before trying again, "Flowers?" He thought it over, wondering who might be trying to woo his woman over, because he certainly hadn't done it. He mulled further as he took another bite of his meal, hoping the heat of the stew would thaw his brain a little. "Wrrn't me. Ulp...see anyone who mighta done it?" It was strange, for certain. Even as he'd worked his way around the forest, there were hardly any plants growing through the leftover snow, save those damned razorleafed weeds.

Maurice took a couple of mouthfuls and swallowed before replying with a shrug, “Don't look like anyone planted them, it's just like they grew there. Blue daffodils they were, not seen em that colour before. Kinda nice. Just a bit out of place is all. But hey. I'm not much of a flower guy but you gotta know which ones the animals eat and I don't know what eats blue daffodils.”

Vincent sipped at the broth with care and deliberation. The soft touches of herbs and spices to the meal were being caught with every sip, but Vincent's empty face revealed nothing of how he felt about them. For all of his inherited bad habits, he did not carry one when eating the meal beyond his silent regard for it. His table manners were considered minimal, but only due to his lack of social talents.

Without lifting his gaze from the table, he too replied to Maurice. "So you saw the vision as well? Perhaps this is a good thing then, that I share the pool with another. But planted, no, they placed themselves there."

Maurice forehead creased with thought as he turned to Vincent, “Vision? You mean like a dream. Nope, this was no dream. Solid as this spoon they looked. I just walked past there on the way in from the forest. ”

He did wonder a bit about Vincent sometimes. Magic did seem to have a strange effect on people though never the same it seemed. He spared Fionn a glance before returning his gaze to Vincent quite interested in how Vincent would take his last comment.

Something about Maurice's response brought a bit of a wrinkle to Vincent's brow and a pout to his lips. "I should not have assumed." He finally remarked before taking another long sip from his spoon. His attention seemed to return to his food completely.

Harold mulled over this with furrowed brows, chewing with some deliberation. Gesturing with his spoon like a stylus, he pointed to Vincent. "So wait, you're sayin' you watched 'em just plunk themselves down around Mary's house? And ya didn't do anything about it? Where'd they come from?"

His spoon resumed its proper job, stirring the bowl and returning to feeding the broad woodsman. "Maury, they're still there now? Look like anyone's done anything to 'em?"

The young mage seemed quite pleased with how his cooking was being received and ate silently, listening the Maurice and Harold's talk about flowers around Mary's house, though more idly than with interest.
That changed, however, once Maurice became more specific about what kinds of flowers he was talking about.
BLUE daffodils ? Fionn wondered; botanics wasn't exactly his field of expertise. he only knew them to be yellow or maybe some shade of white, not blue. And that they could be poisonous, for both human and livestock.

Vincent's words brought Fionn out of his musings, though, and he turned his gaze to the other mage, wondering whether he was trying to make a joke. But if he was, Vincent's next comment didn't really make sense.

Fionn resumed eating, though he mentally winced at Harold's almost confrontational words; Vincent wasn't exactly known for explaining himself - or his oddities.
Trying to lessen the tension, he addressed the other mage. "What kind of vision was it, Vincent ? What did you see ?" Visions and omens were not Fionn's path, nor had they been Alex's. Neither of them had an affinity towards that path, towards witchcraft - unlike, apparently, Vincent and - supposedly - Cassandra. Affinity and curiosity, however, were two different beasts, and so Fionn waited, eating slowly to hide his quickly growing interest.

The slender mage tore bread and began dipping it into the last little bit of his bowl. Even in his delicate nature, he'd been swallowing the meal ravenously. The bread would soak up what remained for a delicious end to the meal.

Vincent looked up with one eye and glanced at Fionn. "The intricate nature of it is not for the table. But, it's important to know that they came in from the forest. Choosing Portia's home was deliberate."

Maurice listens to Fionn's and Vincent's exchange before mentally shrugging and turning to answer the question Harold had directed at him, “Humm? Yeah I guess they still there. Wasn't that long ago I saw em. They just flowers, weird type and weird pattern is all. Doubt anyone's going to go collecting them, what would be the purpose?”

He polishes off his bow then smiles broadly at Fionn, “Damn decent grub as always. Many thanks.”

"Uhm... alright." Fionn replied to Vincent's wish to delay discussing his vision before pondering the pieces of information the other mage had revealed.

Maurice's thanks and compliment brought Fionn out of his thoughts - and a smile to the stocky mage's face; beaming, he inclined his head in silent acceptance.




 

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