[ Pela is on at least her third mug, a foamy mead with an orangey tinge, her grin bright and merry. For a moment she feels like she might be back in Aldeph among friends and staring at the turquoise ocean, instead of damp Gascea with its muddy, sluggish Gennegues River. Tonight Pela is happy, and determined to share it. ]
The lambs! Cute little things they were, all bleaty and soft-eyed. Now I've eaten my share of lamb, don't get me wrong, but it feels a little different when you wake up in a straw pile with one snuggling under each arm.
So I ask the grain-master, where by Shed an' Fell am I? And he says, 'This is the Mill-At-Alberic, good miss'! Meanwhile, the lambs have started nibbling on my skirt hem, so I ask him, 'And a reputable establishment I'm sure it is, sorré. But where might the Mill-At-Alberic be located? 'Why, this is the village of Jauffret, good miss!'"
[ With each exchange she's miming the voice of the older man, obviously enjoying the retelling. Is it true? Who knows. ]
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The lambs! Cute little things they were, all bleaty and soft-eyed. Now I've eaten my share of lamb, don't get me wrong, but it feels a little different when you wake up in a straw pile with one snuggling under each arm.
So I ask the grain-master, where by Shed an' Fell am I? And he says, 'This is the Mill-At-Alberic, good miss'! Meanwhile, the lambs have started nibbling on my skirt hem, so I ask him, 'And a reputable establishment I'm sure it is, sorré. But where might the Mill-At-Alberic be located? 'Why, this is the village of Jauffret, good miss!'"
[ With each exchange she's miming the voice of the older man, obviously enjoying the retelling. Is it true? Who knows. ]