Mairèad is crying quietly and writing something with such fervor that she is tearing holes in the page.
Shepard leans unevenly off his perch, a hand hanging downwards towards Mairead. He remains quiet.
Mairèad 's Shepard sense is not tingling. She scribbles and scribbles and then, glaring at the paper, decides she is not a fan of whatever she scribbled. This gets discarded and ignited with holy flame, turning to ash. Next page.
Shepard looks towards the lake before beginning to sing quietly. "You've got suckers luck. Have you given up? Does it feels like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?"
Mairèad frowns at the familiar voice, though she doesn't immediately start looking for its source. Instead, she keeps writing.
Shepard pauses, letting his voice trail off. His eyes drift back down to Mairead, and he resumes watching her with saddened curiosity.
Mairèad 's tongue kind of pokes out of the corner of her mouth as she writes, getting lost in whatever it is. Every now and again, she pauses and reads the words aloud to herself. "...and her name was... was... hmm." Scribble scribble.
Shepard leans forward a little more, rustling a few leaves - some break off and spiral down towards the ground.
Mairèad brushes the leaves off her page and continues to write as if she didn't hear the rustling. "...the song... th'song she sang was... hmm." Scribble scribble.
Shepard lifts a brow, almost hanging off the branch like a monkey as he tries to get a good luck at what Mairead is writing.
Mairèad doesn't completely acknowledge creeper!Shep, though she does hold her writing a bit closer to her body. "...hmm. Hmm. Ah! With empty sails...!" Scribble scribble.
Shepard stretches himself to the limit. He grunts, feels his grip loosen... then he falls! He immediately teleports himself towards the lake to avoid smashing Mairead.
Mairèad only blinks because water gets near her writing. Otherwise, though, she is absorbed. "...followed the song... followed. Hmm. Might be too... hrn." Scribble scribble.
Shepard pokes his head up from the water - he kind of looks like a shaggy, soggy shark.
Mairèad pauses, looking up at the tree. "Happy or sad? Hmm..." She taps her pen against her lips thoughtfully, then starts chewing on the end. So hygienic.
Shepard 's ears twitch. Then he paddles forward by the tiniest margin. Such a creeper.
Mairèad continues to debate, looking down at her bear. "See, happy would probably be feel-good, 'cause that's what happy is, but sad might be better writin'. What d'you think, Claude?" The bear blinks at Mairèad and begins rustling in her pack for berries.
Mairèad shrugs and starts writing again, apparently having decided.
Shepard remains a stealthy creeper. Watching. Listening. Waiting.
Mairèad pauses in her writing, frowning down at the page. For a second, her chin trembles again and she closes her eyes, gritting her teeth.
Shepard sprints from the water - invisibly! - and moves for a better vantage point. The bush.
Mairèad 's eyes remain closed as she hugs the book to her chest. She murmurs the words of a prayer almost silently. Claude, noticing movement in the bushes, removes his berry-covered snout from Mairead's bag and starts growling.
Shepard freezes; breathing, blinking and all movements stop. Nice bear. Good bear.
Mairèad rests back against the tree, eyes still closed and book still clutched tightly to her chest. She starts humming shakily to herself, murmuring a few words every now and then.
Shepard looks around, clearly uncomfortable (not that it can be seen), and timidly reaches forwards, aiming to gently tap Mairead's shoulder.
Mairèad leans forward right as he gets within tapping distance. She sets the book down in front of her, scrubbing away at her tears, and leans over the page, reading it to herself.
Shepard 's hand twitches in finding nothing but empty space. Slowly, he redirects the hand - this time, it's set on the back of her shoulder.
Mairèad simply sighs and continues to read silently, mouthing the words, occasionally scribbling them out and replacing them. When she is satisfied, she tears the page out and begins to copy its contents onto a new, neater page, embellishing it with artwork.
Shepard finally decides to poke his head through the bush, looking positively insane with curiosity now.
Mairèad obviously knows that Shepard is there, but she still doesn't acknowledge him. She simply shifts the papers so that he can't see their contents and continues her careful embellishment.
Shepard huffs, shoulders sagging in utter defeat. He opts to calmly wait for Mairead's validation.
Mairèad finishes with her embellishments and holds the page up, smiling sadly at it. She then finally acknowledges Shepard. "Hello," she says calmly, gathering her belongings back into her pack.
Shepard eagerly nods at her greeting, leaning forwards. "Hello there, Mairead. What were you doing?"
Mairèad says: I was writin'. What, did it look like I was doin' somethin' else?
Mairèad raises an eyebrow at Shepard.
Shepard says: Well. No. Kind of? What were you writing?
Mairèad rolls a shoulder and looks away very quickly, coughing to hide the sudden smile that's come to her face. "Nothin' important. Jest writin' somethin'."
Shepard cocks his head in obvious confusion, blinking rapidly. "But what?"
Mairèad sticks the book under her arm and begins to gather the belongings that Claude scattered from her pack. "Well, it could be somethin' and it could be nothin'. I guess we'll jest hafta wait and see, won't we?" She still looks away, smiling like mad.
Shepard says: I- wait- what.
Shepard 's mouth is partially agape, and he looks ready to explode from all the curiosity. "Is it a secret thing? Is someone else getting married?"
Mairèad leaves a few berries out of the pack for Claude's consumption. She rolls her eyes, still looking away, and tries to sound contemptuous despite her smile. "Shep, if it was -that-, I'd have told you. Though apparently, I'm s'posed to marry a dorf."
You shrug. Who knows?
Shepard says: ...what.
Mairèad chuckles almost humorlessly, picking up her bag. The rough draft sticks temptingly out of the top as if begging to be snatched up. "Well, I -am- in the army now, and if th'Colonel wants me to marry a dorf, that's orders."
Mairèad says: Hmm, wonder if I've got time t'make the midnight print...
Shepard says: ...you could, yes. The print, not marry a Dwarf.
Mairèad says: Oh good, thanks.
Mairèad doesn't say good-bye or really dismiss Shepard, though she does begin to walk off, humming to herself again.
Shepard hops up, trailing off after her!
Shepard says: You're not gonna tell me, are you.
Mairèad just hums to herself, not answering either way.
Shepard grunts, scratching his mane. "Did you... find someone nice?"
Mairèad laughs quietly. "Why would you ask that?"
Shepard shrugs. Who knows?
Shepard says: Just running through the list.
Mairèad says: Think about that logically.
Shepard snorts. "Logic doesn't always apply."
Mairèad digs in her pack for a pair of envelopes. She carefully addresses each and slips the rough draft into one and the final draft into the other. She then slips them into the mailbox and smiles at Shepard.
Shepard says: ... I'm deadly curious now.
Mairèad says: That is very nice fer you. I need to go pray now.
Mairèad pats Shepard on the hand.
Shepard deadpans. "Fine."
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