[Action]

[albionchanged]

[Moving to a new town that's still very alien to what he remembers of the world is very very intimidating. But the forest farm is calming even though it needs so much work. Farming is in his blood so it's much easier to simply start pulling weeds and breaking rocks, chopping the small logs and working to clear a small plot for himself. So much easier than talking to strangers and learning less familiar things in town.

It also leaves him time to think about his decision to come here. And to talk to the rat hidden in his hoodie's hood.]

Do think that Kyle and the others will be okay now? I mean now that they don't need to look after me anymore?

Is that really your question?

[Esme pauses at the return question whispered near his ear and then resumes pulling the weeds.]

I don't know...maybe not completely. I guess I just wonder if I made a rash decision by coming out here. I'm worried, even though it's so nice here.

Don't be. You heard the woman. You can go back. And I think they'll miss you. They seem attached. They like you.

[The reassurance is comforting and Esme smiles, straightening and rolling his shoulders to work out some stiffness before his slouches comfortably and turns around without noticing that he's got company to see him apparently talking to himself.]

You're right, as usual. We should call it a day.

Comments

[alloutoflove]

[ To be honest, he's not the first boy she's met with an affinity for small furry animals hanging out on his person. That's honestly the only reason she doesn't immediately wonder if he's crazy, pausing to cock her head and look at him.

The farm she's sharing with her own small group isn't incredibly close, but it's close enough that they could be considered neighbors in a vague roundabout way. For a moment she considers just standing there and seeing if he'd try to make an excuse if he saw her there, then she pushes that aside and calls out, in a cheery voice, ]

Hello! Good afternoon!

[anappleaday]

[ said company is standing near the entrance to his farm: a tall, scarred woman in jeans and a hoodie, idly fiddling with a bit of lace trim around the cuff of one of her sleeves— likely waiting for him to finish his current task or to be noticed, seeing as once he turns around she drops it in favor of raising one hand in a tentative wave.

(if he or his companion have the senses for it, they might notice one other thing: an illusion pulled over her head and face, rooted in the barely-visible symbols inked onto the ribbons tied into her hair near her temples.) ]