inktellectual
Locha Kyloe
Aloysius sighed through a smile as he waved at Zinerva and Baird's retrating backs. Shaking his head and chuckling, he stopped waving. He could be dancing in front of the lovers with his hat on fire before they'd notice him, if then. Better to leave them to it and catch up with them tomorrow.
A door flew open, missing his elbow by inches before its wild arc ended in a crash against the brick wall of the inn. A rat flew at speed, face-first into the other wall of the alley. Aloysius stepped back as the rat regained his feet, wiping the gouting blood from his newly crooked nose.
“It was worf it!” the rat yelled defiantly at the doorway he had just been ejected from before brushing past Aloysius, staggering. A melodius, and very loud voice sped the rat's heels considerably, as Aloysius turned to see who'd done the throwing.
“It BETTER have been worth it, ya ormadorm!” A tall, fat cow shook a fist at the retreating rodent without bothering to remove the pipe from the corner of her wide mouth. “Yer done here, ya theiving spalpeen! I see you again and it won't be pies yer eating, but the flat of my hand, see if ya ain't!” and she stomped a hoof and snorted loudly.
Aloysius stood, transfixed. Damn Baird and his bloody sayings! 'Love will hide behind you until it's good and ready to hit you in the face', indeed. The cow was tall indeed, possibly Baird's six feet, and easily fifteen stone if she was a dram. Fat indeed and lusciously rounded, freckled shoulders bared by the smoke-blue blouse she was wearing, broad hips that switched with her stomping anger as her tail swept the flags of the steps. She finally took notice of Aloysius, who tipped his hat, wordless and drymouthed.
Her blush, Aloysius noticed, made the dainty smattering of freckles over her broad nose stand out even more. She fumbled in the pocket of her apron to find a striker to relight her cold pipe. Drawing strongly, she blew a thick ring of smoke that smelled of honey, cloves and cinnamon.
“And then there's you.” she said, looking the length of him, not unkindly. Eyeing her gleaming sharp horns Aloysius tipped his hat again and made a leg
“Aloysius Sawney, at your ladyship's service.” The cow tossed her horns to flick hair from her large, sweet eyes and smiled from the corner of her lips occupied with smoking.
“Ye've manners, at least. I'm Locha Kyloe, keeper of this inn. The Whistling Cat.” She smiled with no small pride as she blew an even larger smoke ring.
“I can see as how you take manners seriously.” Aloysius looked over his shoulder significantly and looked back to watch another blush rise with her laugh. Gods, but she's a smasher, right enough. What else did Baird once rabbit on about? 'a maid who laughs is half taken?' he thought happily, bringing his concertina around to keep his nervous hands busy. This appeared to be the correct thing to do, as her brows shot up and she stood straight from her relaxed lean against the doorframe.
“I know ya! Yer the lad that does the busking with that dear, wee fiddler and the long idiot with the banjo!”
“And how do you describe me, one wonders?” Aloysius asked mildly and keyed a refrain of the Cat Cow Reel as Locha clutched her horns in a clattering dance of chagrin.
...This is towards the end of the story idea Beautiful Music. Locha's mouth sometimes goes faster than her brain, as does mine.
The Cat Cow Reel is really a real reel, lol. I have it on a CD @ home & didn't even know the name of it before looking it up online to put it in the story. This sort of little coincidence happens to me all the time...
Locha Kyloe
Aloysius sighed through a smile as he waved at Zinerva and Baird's retrating backs. Shaking his head and chuckling, he stopped waving. He could be dancing in front of the lovers with his hat on fire before they'd notice him, if then. Better to leave them to it and catch up with them tomorrow.
A door flew open, missing his elbow by inches before its wild arc ended in a crash against the brick wall of the inn. A rat flew at speed, face-first into the other wall of the alley. Aloysius stepped back as the rat regained his feet, wiping the gouting blood from his newly crooked nose.
“It was worf it!” the rat yelled defiantly at the doorway he had just been ejected from before brushing past Aloysius, staggering. A melodius, and very loud voice sped the rat's heels considerably, as Aloysius turned to see who'd done the throwing.
“It BETTER have been worth it, ya ormadorm!” A tall, fat cow shook a fist at the retreating rodent without bothering to remove the pipe from the corner of her wide mouth. “Yer done here, ya theiving spalpeen! I see you again and it won't be pies yer eating, but the flat of my hand, see if ya ain't!” and she stomped a hoof and snorted loudly.
Aloysius stood, transfixed. Damn Baird and his bloody sayings! 'Love will hide behind you until it's good and ready to hit you in the face', indeed. The cow was tall indeed, possibly Baird's six feet, and easily fifteen stone if she was a dram. Fat indeed and lusciously rounded, freckled shoulders bared by the smoke-blue blouse she was wearing, broad hips that switched with her stomping anger as her tail swept the flags of the steps. She finally took notice of Aloysius, who tipped his hat, wordless and drymouthed.
Her blush, Aloysius noticed, made the dainty smattering of freckles over her broad nose stand out even more. She fumbled in the pocket of her apron to find a striker to relight her cold pipe. Drawing strongly, she blew a thick ring of smoke that smelled of honey, cloves and cinnamon.
“And then there's you.” she said, looking the length of him, not unkindly. Eyeing her gleaming sharp horns Aloysius tipped his hat again and made a leg
“Aloysius Sawney, at your ladyship's service.” The cow tossed her horns to flick hair from her large, sweet eyes and smiled from the corner of her lips occupied with smoking.
“Ye've manners, at least. I'm Locha Kyloe, keeper of this inn. The Whistling Cat.” She smiled with no small pride as she blew an even larger smoke ring.
“I can see as how you take manners seriously.” Aloysius looked over his shoulder significantly and looked back to watch another blush rise with her laugh. Gods, but she's a smasher, right enough. What else did Baird once rabbit on about? 'a maid who laughs is half taken?' he thought happily, bringing his concertina around to keep his nervous hands busy. This appeared to be the correct thing to do, as her brows shot up and she stood straight from her relaxed lean against the doorframe.
“I know ya! Yer the lad that does the busking with that dear, wee fiddler and the long idiot with the banjo!”
“And how do you describe me, one wonders?” Aloysius asked mildly and keyed a refrain of the Cat Cow Reel as Locha clutched her horns in a clattering dance of chagrin.
...This is towards the end of the story idea Beautiful Music. Locha's mouth sometimes goes faster than her brain, as does mine.
The Cat Cow Reel is really a real reel, lol. I have it on a CD @ home & didn't even know the name of it before looking it up online to put it in the story. This sort of little coincidence happens to me all the time...