First Snow Day

Clear skies make for a bright morning. The clear night before also meant cold. The recently-risen sun dazzles and shine in infinite reflections from iced surfaces and the currently falling snow. Such bright beginnings are not shared by all, however.

Verna descends the stairs quite late compared to her norm. Despite the additional time sleeping in, her countenance and posture are haggard and weary. There is the concept of too much rest having a reverse effect on one's energy. Perhaps this is such a case.

Auranar is already downstairs with tea ready for the steeping and the scent of cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven and cooling being predominant in the household. Auranar herself is actually icing the cinnamon rolls as Verna comes down the stairs, the fireplace merrily burning to keep the house warm and toasty and Auranar offers her wife a warm smile as she spots the other woman coming down the stairs. "You were quite late abed this morning."

Verna returns Auranar's smile easily, reflexively, if also tiredly. "My apologies. I feel that I did not sleep well." She moves up to her wife to offer a partial one-armed embrace: affection without interfering with her important icing duties. "My wakefulness is improving, however. You are a most invigorating sight." The scents of tea and rolls are also helpful, if her deep inhale is any indication.

The hug is eagerly returned and Auranar sets aside her icing to give more of a hug than Verna was expecting (as always). She also pours a cup of tea for the other woman and presses it into Verna's hands with a smile for her sleep-deprived wife. "I'm sorry to hear you didn't sleep well. Here, have some tea, the rolls are almost ready." She returns then to icing up the last few rolls and picks one of the nicest ones for Verna and puts it on a plate with a fork and hands this over to the other woman.

"Cold keeping you awake? We can afford to put another log on before bed if it is too chilly in the evenings you know." Auranar looks at her wife worriedly.

Verna welcomes the hug, expected or not. Then there is the tea, also welcomed and cup held for some additional warmth as she moves to take a seat whilst Auranar finishes the rolls.

"I was quite warm and comfortable beside you, love," she notes with a renewed smile. One that falls a bit early into pursed lips, however. The hot cinnamon roll is eyed avariciously, yet she does not assault it quite yet. "Odd, unsettling dreams, perhaps. I recollect snippets and morsels rather than the whole, as one oft does after waking, but it remains puzzling."

She takes a sip from her cup. "Concerning, perhaps, or perhaps nothing more than an overactive mind."

Auranar pours herself a cup of tea and takes up one of the rolls for herself before joining Verna in her own seat comfortably. "It bothered you though, or you would not have said it at all." This is true enough at least. She looks at her wife thoughtfully. "Even if it is nothing, you can tell me what it is and get it off your mind yes?"

Verna's lips soften into a smile for Auranar, and she finally cuts off a piece of her roll. "Of course. You might better know the difference between a valid concern and the worries of a tired, fattening woman." A glint of humor with the very old jest as she takes a bite.

As she chews, she collects her thoughts and recollections, to share after finishing the bite. "There was a horse and rider. The man seemed fae, though I do not recall how or why I believed this. Perhaps it was his features, though I cannot envision all of them in detail, now."

A pause for another bite to be taken and consumed. "His hair was grey, whether by origin or aging I do not know. Eyes of green. Dark clothing. Those are what I recall clearly. I do not know or remember his actions, identity, or purpose..." Her lips purse. "Only a strange sense that he had taken something."

She then looks to Auranar, curiously, also admitting, "Not that I am at all trustful of fae, outside of our family."

"You dreamed of a strange fae that came into your dreams and took something from you?" Auranar blinks a few times. "No... that sounds strange indeed to me. Even if nothing... perhaps we had best ask Grandfather if the description is familiar, and Telamon if the dreaming is real. If either of them has the knowing of it. Best to be on the safe side."

Verna nods to confirm Auranar's summary. "Telamon would know more of dreams than most anyone else, and Grandfather the fae, indeed." She takes another sip of her tea before exhaling a breath. "I dislike imposing, family or not, yet you are correct; it is best to lay concerns to rest. My past dealings with dreams have proven less benign than I prefer."

"Better to 'impose' now then to find out later that it's a very serious concern that we did nothing about." Auranar states she shakes her head and looks at her wife. "You've no idea what this individual might have taken from you? You don't feel different at all? Nothing missing that you might normally have?"

"Indeed," Verna acknowledges Auranar's logic and wisdom. The inquiry prompts the start of a response, but she pauses. Her cup is set down to free her hands to systematically pat herself down and verify that all is as it should be. Her head then shakes slightly in the negative. "All that I feel may be missing is rest."

Auranar nods. "Then we will have to endeavor to discover what if anything was taken as well. Hopefully you are right and the dream was just that; a dream and nothing more." Auranar finally at long last cuts into her roll and takes a bite, making a soft approving sound and smiling. "You know, I saw a whole bunch of tiny Mourner Verna plushies in the market place. I think I'll have to pick one up for the house."

Verna takes comfort in Auranar's advice, encouragement, and certainly her smile. Her tea and the rolls do not hurt, either. She retrieves her cup to imbibe more of the invigorating, caffeinated liquid…

... then promptly sputters some of it onto the table when Auranar mentions her marketplace findings and intentions.

-End