The rattling of spoons moving into hands came from the four adventurers, leaving one bowl and spoon left on the tray.
Feryn: (Hands up, holding the spoon.) Geez, come on guys... I mean gals. It was a poor joke. 'Neutral look.' I didn't mean anything by it.
Feryn became the centre of attention, his jested tone falling on deaf ears, quickly trying to smooth over what he just said about Ayrell and the Landladies theoretical nightly routine.
Rache: Wow... You could have fooled us. (Picking up the wooden spoon.) Poor isn't the word; more like distasteful.
Rache looked at the bowl, then back to Feryn.
Rache: Regarding the joke, it wasn't at all funny, just another one of your bad attempts at comedy. Come to think of it... Why do you always rag on him so much? (Questioning look shot at Feryn.) He isn't like that at all, and you know it. (Raising her spoonless hand.) Or, would you like another one of these? (Imitating a flicking motion with her free right hand.)
The dark purple-haired woman chimed in, her violet eyes neither comforting nor aggressive; she was just disappointed in the spoken words of the shieldsman.
Yervel: Agreed. (Playfully nodding her head.) Next time, Feryn, keep those wild ideas of yours to yourself. (Pointing her spoon in Feryn's direction.) Ayrell might be crappy at his job, but he knows where the lines are drawn with women, unlike yourself. (Perking up on her chair.) Also, he is a man of principle and a gentleman. Something you wouldn't understand. 'Huffing.'
An annoyed growl came from the table, the words of Yervel and Rache piling on him from his off-hand slight.
Feryn: Jeez (Folding his arms'.) I said I was sorry. What more do you want?
Feryn placed his spoon into his bowl, the spoon sliding deeper into the food and resting the end on the edge.
Feryn: Come on... 'Chuckling.' That is rich, coming from you two. Weren't we all just slagging him off a few minutes ago? (Looking to the door and pointing.) All of you and I shut our traps when the door went knock. 'Furious.' If it were him on the other side, I doubt you would be talking so high and mighty right now. 'Annoyed.'
The room was now filled with a growing tension of silence and a sharp clap rang out.
*CLAP.*
Amanda: (Sitting up with her hand together.) That's enough from you all; no more arguments while we are preparing to eat. It will make the food taste bad. 'Collected.' We all said our piece about him and we will say nothing more of it tonight. Agreed?
In a moment, all the tensions drained from the room, and there was a nostalgic sentiment about their past. The image of a woman in black and white was present in their thoughts, smiling at them all, overlaying over Amanda's figure and voice.
Yervel: 'Smiling.' Alright. (Putting a hand up.) Fine... I'll declare a truce for the time being. Who'd have thought that you would take after the dear sister Maria... "Marianda." 'Grinning.'
Yervel, Rache, and Feryn giggled at the sly nostalgic joke as Amanda pushed it to the back of her mind, slumping back into her chair and staring at the lone bowl next to Feryn.
Amanda: 'Looking confused.' It looks like Ayrell's food will go cold again. (Looking at Yervel.) Yervel, after you finish eating, make sure you apply a preservation spell to his food. Please remember this time, Yervel; I mean it! 'Firm.'
The smell of luxury drifted up, its temptation pulling her away from reality and the simple ask coming from Amanda. Yervel, no longer holding back her hunger, dug in, lost in a simple abyss, slapping away the words and delving into her food one spoonful at a time.
Yervel: This is better than cheese any day. (Glancing at Amanda.) Food first, then magic spelly spelly. (Delving into her bowl, still feeling eyes on her.) I'll do it after I've finished eating! 'Bothered.'
Slurps from another slithered out over the rim of the small bowl; soon they all would devle into their meal.
Rache: (Knocking back the soup.) Yeah, like last time. Come on, Yervel; it is the least you can do for him. You wouldn't like to eat cold food. If you don't, I won't let you off this time. 'Sly look.' I mean it.
Yervel groaned and time passed as the four enjoyed their meal, savouring it for one last time.
---Ten minutes later.---
*MIXED CONTENTFUL GROANS CAME FROM THE CENTRE OF THE ROOM.*
The clanking of empty bowls signalled the end of the night and so did the dying of the candle, the small wick being snuffed out by Feryn's licked finger tips. Smoke from the charred wick diluted what was left of the lovely scent of grover.
One by one, they all began to move away from the table, laying back on their small beds, full bellies swashing around, as the loose chairs lay strewn about, not pushed back under the table; the warmth from the seats fading away.
Yervel: 'Groaning.' That was so good! I really need to thank Magio when I see her in the morning. She answered my prayers of food. (Rubbing her stomach.) It feels like I am about to give birth. 'Delight.' Who'd have thought Grover soup could be so nice? And she gets perfect every time without fail, now that is a skill in itself. 'Content.'
Yervel, no longer rubbing her stomach, then laid her hands to her side, tiredness setting in. A joke shot from Feryn from the other side of the room on the lone bed.
Feryn: Pfft. Only a Grover would have eyes for someone as small as you! 'Snickering.' You'd make a nice couple, you know, like that book we all used to read as kids: 'Thinking.' I always forget the name. (Rubbing his hair softly.)
Yervel's face went red, and her ears felt warm. Reaching to the fine tips, she sat up with her elbows propping up her small form.
Yervel: Better with a Grover than your ugly mug! 'Rude.' You are sick in the head, thinking something like that.
Rache shook her head at the joke, smiling a little on the inside, watching Feryn sit up on his bed, looking at the small, folded-up sheet on the floor, then at Amanda, wanting to say something but biting his lip.
Amanda: Don't be cruel, Feryn; she isn't that small, and it's not like the "Princess and the Grover." I find it difficult to envision a prince emerging from a Grover at all, even if Yervel were to kiss it or you. (Looking around the room.)
No immediate reply came from Feryn or Yervel.
Amanda: Now... We can all thank Magio in the morning. Right now we need to get some kip before the sun calls for us. It is going to be a long day tomorrow and I for one am completely shattered. Those lizards and that grover have me done in.
All too familiar whispers came from the other three.
Feryn: 'Childish' Thanks, Marianda!
The red-haired girl arched up from her bed.
Rache: (Popping up.) Will you tuck me in? I'm cold. (Plopping back onto the bed.) I'm so full, I can't reach the blanket. (Playfully reaching for the thin sheet.) Help me, Marianda... 'Smiling.'
Small arms moved to Amanda's waist, latching around her and holding on tight.
Yervel: (Latching onto Amanda's hip.) I want a bedtime story, pretty please! 'Childish manner.' Tell me about the "Princess and the Grover." Does she have purple hair and does she kill her idiot friend in his sleep? Please tell me he has blonde hair and blue eyes... 'Tired.'
*FAILING GROANING.*
Amanda: (Closing her eyes, muttering to herself.) Please give me strength, Sister Maria; if the lizards don't kill them, I surely will, except for Feryn, looks like Yervel wants to kill him herself. 'Pausing.'
Amanda thought to herself of the tall, black-haired woman that had taken care of them all when they were children.
Amanda: It would be nice to see you again Sister Maria... It has been a while. 'Sighing.'
Amanda's eyes fell in and out of consciousness as she fell back onto the soft bed, Yervel still clinging to her waist, falling into the world of sleep.
The comforting warmth of another soothed her and the memories of their youth flooded into her mind. The boy with light hair reappeared next to the single bowl on the table, dominating her falling thoughts to the land of sleep; slowly, darkness took hold, and the bowl faded away into the realm of dreams...
The pain in her arm disappeared and so did the boy.
---3 Hours later.---
The door to the three adventurers' room slowly opened and closed, not making a sound.
Soft, hushed footsteps crept into the centre of the room until they stopped at the table and moved towards the beds on either side. Before leaving, the shadow changed their direction to the bed closest to the door, with something in their hands.
A few minutes went by, and the light clattering of glass falling atop the table became audible, much louder than it should have been. Amanda gently returned to the realm of the living, the weight of sleep still heavy on her body and mind as her eyelids felt like stone, not opening all the way.
Amanda: (Sitting up.) Ayr… Ayrell, is that you? (Looking around the room, rubbing her eyes.)
The shadowy figure that was there gave no answer as it was long gone. Amanda looked at the other three sleeping soundly, all covered up, the sheets up and over their chests, carefully placed over them.
She looked down, seeing the sheet covering her own body, as a tiny creak from afar faded into the night and to the world outside.
Amanda: 'Broken voice.' Ayrell?
No answer came from the question lost to time.