Wineburn Bookshop Vozhdya ----(Indoors) (Cover: Fair) (Owner: Forrest)
A wistful silence floats throughout the bookshop. Patrons of the establishment sit at one of the three wooden tables, shuffling chairs and the rustle of parchment, while the clatter of carriages and the bootsteps outside the colored windows is but a whisper. Ancient, unnamed winebottles line the windowsills, reflecting the lantern light from the rafters above. On the wall are paintings of a pastoral Silkfield, fields of golden wheat swaying in a country wind, the quiet lurking forest, and farmers resting on their porches as the sun sinks below the horizon.
A high bookshelf lines the entire right-hand wall, filled with volumes of text: mapbooks, classical prose, theology, philosophy, novels, and books of poems, ranging from the grotesque and baroque, to the studious and light-hearted. Scattered on different bookshelves are tiny glass figurines, some frozen while in dance, some crouched in humble thought, and others embracing in love.
At the far end of the bookshop stretches a long polished counter. Behind the counter on a raised shelf is a glass case featuring rare books, a stone statue of an Imperial Bladesman and a showcase of old and strange coins. Above the counter, pinned to the wall, is an old hunting bow, the stuffed head of a tusked boar, and an Imperial sword.
You appear to be alone here. Some red wine is here. A pair of gray cotton trousers are here. A black cotton tunic is here. A biinwood sign is here. A pine sign is here. A leatherbound tome is here. A shardwood trunk is here. A black cotton vest is here.
Obvious exits: Out
Elymara Threadgoode arrives from Broselov Circle
Elymara Threadgoode has arrived.
Forrest is sitting at a table, with a large group of items on the table. He is rubbing his head as if it hurt.
Elymara Threadgoode ambles into the bookstore, her distracted gaze settling first on one thing, then on another. She accidently bumps into a shelf, jostling it. With an alarmed shriek, her arms desperately flail about as she attempts to rescue the little glass figurines, which have been somewhat shaken by the jolt.
Forrest looks up with a start, staring at the woman who just entered his shop. "What the..." He blinks absently, and then smiles. "Oh, hello. How can I help you?"
Elymara Threadgoode rescues the last of the figurines, and then exclaims breathlessly, "Hello!" She sets the figure upright with a plunk, "I was wondering, you know, if you had some sort of book, but you know, a fun one, the kind that is enjoyable to read, not the kind that is dull and boring, not the kind that aunts make you read, the kind that you would want to read, you know, on a day off, when you're feeling very lazy, maybe with someone getting kidnapped in it, or pirates, or even wolves, you know, that sort of thing. The fun kind. Not the boring kind." she says this with a toss of her messy blond curls.
Forrest blinks. He turns to look out the window, and then frowns. "Oh!" he exclaims, but as he gets out ofthe chair, a flinging of paper floats across the air, scattered everywhere. "Oh dear, I'm sorry... so clumsy..." Forrest leans down to the floor, and begins to puzzle together the estranged pieces of parchment.
Elymara Threadgoode reaches out a scrawny arm to snatch up a piece of paper, plopping it on his desk. She smoothes it out with her fingertips, slightly smudging a few of the letters.
Forrest laughs out loud, suddenly unable to control himself. "I'm sorry, dear lady. I should have met you at the door. My mind has been so absent today... there, take a look at that book on the table there. It's a botched job, to be sure, but when I finally get the mind to do this sort of thing right, you might be interested." Forrest gives her a /very/ pleasant smile, standing up and replacing the rest ofthe papers onto the table.
Elymara Threadgoode wanders over to the table, and picks up the book, turning it over in her hands. She examines the cover and chirps, "So, what's it about? Does anyone die horribly in it? I like it when people die horribly."
Forrest squirms out a grin. Well, sort of a grin. More like a grimace, with a bit of happiness tossed in on the side. "Do I know you? I swear, I'd seen you before..."
Elymara Threadgoode looks up from the book and says, "Well, its possible, I mean, I work here. And live here. Well not HERE, I mean... YOu live and work HERE... but I mean here in Vozhdya. But in the square, not here in the Circle. But the Circles' nice. I mean, I like the Square, too. They're all nice... I like Vozhdya, don't you? It's much better than other places."
"I do so love this city," Forrest says. He extends an hand, and says, "My name is Forrest Wineburn. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, miss?.."
Elymara Threadgoode seizes his hand with her skinny one and shakes it vigorously, "Threadgoode," she says, "Elymara Threadgoode. I work at the Loom and Spindle. And across the way from it. I work a lot. I'm very busy."
The bookseller returns the shake, although with a wiggle manages to dislodge the girl's hand. "It's a pleasure, Elymara. You seem to be a very spirited lady, and that's a wonderful thing." Forrest saunters over to the bookshelf, and pulls out a thick volume entitled, "Behind the Rose Window." "Perhaps you might be interested in this, Elymara? Take a look."
Elymara Threadgoode tilts her head to the side and says, "Well, the cover looks nice, and the title sounds good... sort of mysterious, like, you know, what exactly is HIDING behind the rose window? Something exciting, I imagine. Sounds good to me. Does it end tragically? Stories that end tragically are much more fun, especially if they make me cry. Do you think I'll cry?"
Forrest smiles. "I wept like a baby, and I wrote it!" He gives a heart-filled laugh.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "You wrote it?"
The proprietor blushes slightly pink, and then turns away. "Yes," he replies, while moving over the bookshelf with his finger. "All of these," he says, and then turns back to look at Elymara, "I wrote while I lived in Silkfield. The venerable Duke had the wonderful idea of hiring me to this city, so I moved here."
Elymara Threadgoode tucks the book under her arm, and strolls along the shop. "You wrote all of them?" she asks, "Every single one? Do they have a lot of silk in silkfield?"
Laughing quietly, Forrest shakes his head. His eyes follow Elymara as she strolls along, and he turns his head. "No, in fact we do not! That is something that should be amended. Plenty of cows though, but cow-hide doesn't make the best of dreses, now does it?"
Elymara Threadgoode puts her hands on her hips and says, "Well, they shouldn't call it Silkfield then, should they?" She looks down at the book, "How much for the book?"
The bookseller walks behind the counter, taking a slip of paper and putting it in a drawer behind. "Tell you what, Elymara," he begins, "You take it for now, and come back to the shop after you've finished it. Just borrow it for now, and tell me what you think."
Elymara Threadgoode looks at the book and exclaims, "But then you won't be able to sell it full price!"
"Oh, dear lady," he says, "I'm positive you will take very good care of it. Otherwise, if you'd like, you can put it straight on that table there, and come in any time you'd like to read it. I'm afraid I still must consult with the Duke on the pricing of my books, before I start naming prices. I'm very new to this city." Forrest walks to Elymara, his hands clasped together.
Elymara Threadgoode sets it down on the table and says, "Well, alright, I can come in here and read it... I like to munch on apples when I read, though... you don't mind if I bring apples in here? There's nothing quite like a book and an apple."
"That is a wonderful idea, Elymara. I think I shall serve apples here." Forrest opens his hands, palms up. "You are brilliant."
Elymara Threadgoode grins sheepishly, bashfully blushing and looking at the floor, as she blurts out, "Well, I like to think so, but not everyone does!"
"Don't worry about those nay-sayers!" Forrest exclaims. "Always remember who you are, and in the end, no one will forget."
Elymara Threadgoode purses her lips and nods in agreement, "Well, that's true, I suppose. Apples and books, though. You really can;t go wrong."
"You wouldn't mind if I came to your shop, would you, Elymara?" Forrest asks, quieting down again. "Perhaps, another time?"
Elymara Threadgoode shakes her head and says, "Not a bit! What sort of thing are you looking for? A shirt? I hem shirts beautifully."
"Oh, you mistake me!" Forrest smiles, and continues, scratching his ear with an idle hand. "I don't need anything, just to visit you."
Elymara Threadgoode grins a toothy smile and exclaims, "Oh, of course! Stop by any time. It is sort of messy, though, but if you tell me ahead of time I will try to clean up."
Forrest raises an eyebrow, and then laughs. "Mess does not bother me, Elymara. There is a certain comfort in it, don't you think so?"
Elymara Threadgoode nods, "Yes, that is true, because then you don't need to worry about messing anything up, because you know, it is already messed up, so it can't become messy, because it already is, so then you don't need to worry about anything because there it is, mess and all."
"Indeed." The bookseller looks outside the window, a wash of worry across his face. "Do me a little favor, Elymara... if you see a little, bedraggled boy out in the street, looking awfully horrible and messy, do tell him to get back to the shop." Forrest sighs. "He's been away for a couple hours now, and he forgot to change his clothes."
Forrest chuckles, a little nervously. "Well, he first has to learn how to read. No, just a young little sprite, last night found him wandering on the street without a hope. He's the new hand around here! You might see him around! Quite a smart little boy, he is."
Elymara Threadgoode tilts her head to the side, "Whats his name, and how old is he?"
Forrest sighs, bedraggled eyes and a slacken face suddenly apparent. "Well, he told me his name was... "
And with a start, "Moth."
Elymara Threadgoode laughs, "Moth! Who names their child Moth?!"
"Exactly! That's what I thought! But the little critter goes by the name alright, so it stays. He seems to be a nice boy. Apparently, his mother is in a bit of trouble, so he's got to earn the bread."
Elymara Threadgoode 's ears perk up, and her eyes are alight with the anticipation of juicy gossip, as she asks, "Why, what'd she do?"
"The Light help her, I have no idea," Forrest replies. "Just another one on the wrong side of the coin, I suppose. We've all been there, now haven't we?"
Elymara Threadgoode says, "I always call heads whenever I toss a coin."
"I prefer not to toss at all. Life is too wonderful to count on the ringing of fate, is it not?" Forrest sighs, and takes a coin from his pocket. He holds it up to the light. "The harm these little things do, Elymara, you'd wonder why we as human beings would even allow such a thing, being creatures of reason..."
Elymara Threadgoode lifts her shoulders and drops them and says with a laugh, "But if we didn't have any we would all starve, and that would be no good. Also, you can go to the tavern with them, and they have really good venison there."
Forrest Wineburn turns his head and gives Elymara a wide stare. He breaks into a smile, and drops his hand to his side. "You've got the most wonderful sense I've come across yet, Elymara Threadgoode." Forrest flips the coin into the air, watching as it scatters light across the room, and then clatters on the floor. But right as it lands, he stamps his boot onto the coin. "What'll it be, Elymara?"
Elymara Threadgoode says decidedly, "Heads."
"Well, I believe you are correct. We won't even find out, because I am /that/ sure." Forrest quickly bows down and snatches the coin, and the hurtles it outside the window with a hard throw. He steps back, panting. "My goodness, that did feel good!"
Elymara Threadgoode blinks in surprise and says, "Careful! You might hit someone!"
Putting a ghostly, amused look on his face, Forrest bows his head in a sulken despair. "Of course, my lady. I shall not do it again."
Elymara Threadgoode exclaims, "Can you imagine if you were walking along, and suddely got bonked in the head by a coin? Of course," she muses philosophically, "You might be happy to see that you got a new coin... but you don't seem to like them much, anyhow."
He shrugs, and replies curtly, "They serve their purpose. But we ought to do more of what we don't, and we do more of what we ought not to do. Part of that concerns the coin, for it seems to be a wall standing between Being, as if... we constructed it out of our own amusement, and then punished ourselves for believing in such a thing. What do you think, Elymara?" Forrest walks to the window, just to make sure he hasn't hit anyone, and notices the coin already trampled under horse tracks, lost in the earth. He smiles to himself.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "What do we ought to do?"
Forrest moans, and then gives a little lilt of a grin. "I don't know. I think I lost myself."
Elymara Threadgoode says, "We ought to have more parties, I think."
Forrest brightens up, his mood becoming more cheerful. "Indeed!" he exclaims. "How about one tomorrow! We can bring apples and books!"
Elymara Threadgoode chews her lower lip and says, "I don't know... I think I have to work tomorrow. We could have one now."
Forrest rubs his head, running his hand through his hair. "Well, we don't have any apples..." He begins to pace, and then stops. "Tell you what! If you're in tomorrow, I'll bring apples and some books to your shop. Yes, I know you'll be busy, but if you have a spare moment, we can chomp merrily among your pile of velvet and string, and it'll be a good day. I promise."
Elymara Threadgoode nods and says, "Alright... but I'll be busy until late in the evening..."
"I'll just pop by, Elymara. Surprise you with a plate of apples." Forrest smiles. "Or something."
Elymara Threadgoode says, "That sounds good. I like apples. I wish I knew how to make pie, but I don't."
"I think I'm going to take a little hike and search for that child. You're free to tag along, if you'd like Elymara, or stay here and read. I'll be back in a few minutes, if I can find that rascal." Forrest walks to the counter and grabs a little bag, which he slings around his wrist.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "Do you think he's around? Maybe I'll come!"
Elymara Threadgoode sets the book down on the table top and hops from one foot to the other.
Forrest heads to the door, and slips out the door, his shadow waiting in the noon sun outside the shop for Elymara to follow.
A wistful silence floats throughout the bookshop. Patrons of the establishment sit at one of the three wooden tables, shuffling chairs and the rustle of parchment, while the clatter of carriages and the bootsteps outside the colored windows is but a whisper. Ancient, unnamed winebottles line the windowsills, reflecting the lantern light from the rafters above. On the wall are paintings of a pastoral Silkfield, fields of golden wheat swaying in a country wind, the quiet lurking forest, and farmers resting on their porches as the sun sinks below the horizon.
A high bookshelf lines the entire right-hand wall, filled with volumes of text: mapbooks, classical prose, theology, philosophy, novels, and books of poems, ranging from the grotesque and baroque, to the studious and light-hearted. Scattered on different bookshelves are tiny glass figurines, some frozen while in dance, some crouched in humble thought, and others embracing in love.
At the far end of the bookshop stretches a long polished counter. Behind the counter on a raised shelf is a glass case featuring rare books, a stone statue of an Imperial Bladesman and a showcase of old and strange coins. Above the counter, pinned to the wall, is an old hunting bow, the stuffed head of a tusked boar, and an Imperial sword.
You appear to be alone here. Some red wine is here. A pair of gray cotton trousers are here. A black cotton tunic is here. A biinwood sign is here. A pine sign is here. A leatherbound tome is here. A shardwood trunk is here. A black cotton vest is here.
Obvious exits: Out
Elymara Threadgoode arrives from Broselov Circle
Elymara Threadgoode has arrived.
Forrest is sitting at a table, with a large group of items on the table. He is rubbing his head as if it hurt.
Elymara Threadgoode ambles into the bookstore, her distracted gaze settling first on one thing, then on another. She accidently bumps into a shelf, jostling it. With an alarmed shriek, her arms desperately flail about as she attempts to rescue the little glass figurines, which have been somewhat shaken by the jolt.
Forrest looks up with a start, staring at the woman who just entered his shop. "What the..." He blinks absently, and then smiles. "Oh, hello. How can I help you?"
Elymara Threadgoode rescues the last of the figurines, and then exclaims breathlessly, "Hello!" She sets the figure upright with a plunk, "I was wondering, you know, if you had some sort of book, but you know, a fun one, the kind that is enjoyable to read, not the kind that is dull and boring, not the kind that aunts make you read, the kind that you would want to read, you know, on a day off, when you're feeling very lazy, maybe with someone getting kidnapped in it, or pirates, or even wolves, you know, that sort of thing. The fun kind. Not the boring kind." she says this with a toss of her messy blond curls.
Forrest blinks. He turns to look out the window, and then frowns. "Oh!" he exclaims, but as he gets out ofthe chair, a flinging of paper floats across the air, scattered everywhere. "Oh dear, I'm sorry... so clumsy..." Forrest leans down to the floor, and begins to puzzle together the estranged pieces of parchment.
Elymara Threadgoode reaches out a scrawny arm to snatch up a piece of paper, plopping it on his desk. She smoothes it out with her fingertips, slightly smudging a few of the letters.
Forrest laughs out loud, suddenly unable to control himself. "I'm sorry, dear lady. I should have met you at the door. My mind has been so absent today... there, take a look at that book on the table there. It's a botched job, to be sure, but when I finally get the mind to do this sort of thing right, you might be interested." Forrest gives her a /very/ pleasant smile, standing up and replacing the rest ofthe papers onto the table.
Elymara Threadgoode wanders over to the table, and picks up the book, turning it over in her hands. She examines the cover and chirps, "So, what's it about? Does anyone die horribly in it? I like it when people die horribly."
Forrest squirms out a grin. Well, sort of a grin. More like a grimace, with a bit of happiness tossed in on the side. "Do I know you? I swear, I'd seen you before..."
Elymara Threadgoode looks up from the book and says, "Well, its possible, I mean, I work here. And live here. Well not HERE, I mean... YOu live and work HERE... but I mean here in Vozhdya. But in the square, not here in the Circle. But the Circles' nice. I mean, I like the Square, too. They're all nice... I like Vozhdya, don't you? It's much better than other places."
"I do so love this city," Forrest says. He extends an hand, and says, "My name is Forrest Wineburn. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, miss?.."
Elymara Threadgoode seizes his hand with her skinny one and shakes it vigorously, "Threadgoode," she says, "Elymara Threadgoode. I work at the Loom and Spindle. And across the way from it. I work a lot. I'm very busy."
The bookseller returns the shake, although with a wiggle manages to dislodge the girl's hand. "It's a pleasure, Elymara. You seem to be a very spirited lady, and that's a wonderful thing." Forrest saunters over to the bookshelf, and pulls out a thick volume entitled, "Behind the Rose Window." "Perhaps you might be interested in this, Elymara? Take a look."
Elymara Threadgoode tilts her head to the side and says, "Well, the cover looks nice, and the title sounds good... sort of mysterious, like, you know, what exactly is HIDING behind the rose window? Something exciting, I imagine. Sounds good to me. Does it end tragically? Stories that end tragically are much more fun, especially if they make me cry. Do you think I'll cry?"
Forrest smiles. "I wept like a baby, and I wrote it!" He gives a heart-filled laugh.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "You wrote it?"
The proprietor blushes slightly pink, and then turns away. "Yes," he replies, while moving over the bookshelf with his finger. "All of these," he says, and then turns back to look at Elymara, "I wrote while I lived in Silkfield. The venerable Duke had the wonderful idea of hiring me to this city, so I moved here."
Elymara Threadgoode tucks the book under her arm, and strolls along the shop. "You wrote all of them?" she asks, "Every single one? Do they have a lot of silk in silkfield?"
Laughing quietly, Forrest shakes his head. His eyes follow Elymara as she strolls along, and he turns his head. "No, in fact we do not! That is something that should be amended. Plenty of cows though, but cow-hide doesn't make the best of dreses, now does it?"
Elymara Threadgoode puts her hands on her hips and says, "Well, they shouldn't call it Silkfield then, should they?" She looks down at the book, "How much for the book?"
The bookseller walks behind the counter, taking a slip of paper and putting it in a drawer behind. "Tell you what, Elymara," he begins, "You take it for now, and come back to the shop after you've finished it. Just borrow it for now, and tell me what you think."
Elymara Threadgoode looks at the book and exclaims, "But then you won't be able to sell it full price!"
"Oh, dear lady," he says, "I'm positive you will take very good care of it. Otherwise, if you'd like, you can put it straight on that table there, and come in any time you'd like to read it. I'm afraid I still must consult with the Duke on the pricing of my books, before I start naming prices. I'm very new to this city." Forrest walks to Elymara, his hands clasped together.
Elymara Threadgoode sets it down on the table and says, "Well, alright, I can come in here and read it... I like to munch on apples when I read, though... you don't mind if I bring apples in here? There's nothing quite like a book and an apple."
"That is a wonderful idea, Elymara. I think I shall serve apples here." Forrest opens his hands, palms up. "You are brilliant."
Elymara Threadgoode grins sheepishly, bashfully blushing and looking at the floor, as she blurts out, "Well, I like to think so, but not everyone does!"
"Don't worry about those nay-sayers!" Forrest exclaims. "Always remember who you are, and in the end, no one will forget."
Elymara Threadgoode purses her lips and nods in agreement, "Well, that's true, I suppose. Apples and books, though. You really can;t go wrong."
"You wouldn't mind if I came to your shop, would you, Elymara?" Forrest asks, quieting down again. "Perhaps, another time?"
Elymara Threadgoode shakes her head and says, "Not a bit! What sort of thing are you looking for? A shirt? I hem shirts beautifully."
"Oh, you mistake me!" Forrest smiles, and continues, scratching his ear with an idle hand. "I don't need anything, just to visit you."
Elymara Threadgoode grins a toothy smile and exclaims, "Oh, of course! Stop by any time. It is sort of messy, though, but if you tell me ahead of time I will try to clean up."
Forrest raises an eyebrow, and then laughs. "Mess does not bother me, Elymara. There is a certain comfort in it, don't you think so?"
Elymara Threadgoode nods, "Yes, that is true, because then you don't need to worry about messing anything up, because you know, it is already messed up, so it can't become messy, because it already is, so then you don't need to worry about anything because there it is, mess and all."
"Indeed." The bookseller looks outside the window, a wash of worry across his face. "Do me a little favor, Elymara... if you see a little, bedraggled boy out in the street, looking awfully horrible and messy, do tell him to get back to the shop." Forrest sighs. "He's been away for a couple hours now, and he forgot to change his clothes."
Forrest chuckles, a little nervously. "Well, he first has to learn how to read. No, just a young little sprite, last night found him wandering on the street without a hope. He's the new hand around here! You might see him around! Quite a smart little boy, he is."
Elymara Threadgoode tilts her head to the side, "Whats his name, and how old is he?"
Forrest sighs, bedraggled eyes and a slacken face suddenly apparent. "Well, he told me his name was... "
And with a start, "Moth."
Elymara Threadgoode laughs, "Moth! Who names their child Moth?!"
"Exactly! That's what I thought! But the little critter goes by the name alright, so it stays. He seems to be a nice boy. Apparently, his mother is in a bit of trouble, so he's got to earn the bread."
Elymara Threadgoode 's ears perk up, and her eyes are alight with the anticipation of juicy gossip, as she asks, "Why, what'd she do?"
"The Light help her, I have no idea," Forrest replies. "Just another one on the wrong side of the coin, I suppose. We've all been there, now haven't we?"
Elymara Threadgoode says, "I always call heads whenever I toss a coin."
"I prefer not to toss at all. Life is too wonderful to count on the ringing of fate, is it not?" Forrest sighs, and takes a coin from his pocket. He holds it up to the light. "The harm these little things do, Elymara, you'd wonder why we as human beings would even allow such a thing, being creatures of reason..."
Elymara Threadgoode lifts her shoulders and drops them and says with a laugh, "But if we didn't have any we would all starve, and that would be no good. Also, you can go to the tavern with them, and they have really good venison there."
Forrest Wineburn turns his head and gives Elymara a wide stare. He breaks into a smile, and drops his hand to his side. "You've got the most wonderful sense I've come across yet, Elymara Threadgoode." Forrest flips the coin into the air, watching as it scatters light across the room, and then clatters on the floor. But right as it lands, he stamps his boot onto the coin. "What'll it be, Elymara?"
Elymara Threadgoode says decidedly, "Heads."
"Well, I believe you are correct. We won't even find out, because I am /that/ sure." Forrest quickly bows down and snatches the coin, and the hurtles it outside the window with a hard throw. He steps back, panting. "My goodness, that did feel good!"
Elymara Threadgoode blinks in surprise and says, "Careful! You might hit someone!"
Putting a ghostly, amused look on his face, Forrest bows his head in a sulken despair. "Of course, my lady. I shall not do it again."
Elymara Threadgoode exclaims, "Can you imagine if you were walking along, and suddely got bonked in the head by a coin? Of course," she muses philosophically, "You might be happy to see that you got a new coin... but you don't seem to like them much, anyhow."
He shrugs, and replies curtly, "They serve their purpose. But we ought to do more of what we don't, and we do more of what we ought not to do. Part of that concerns the coin, for it seems to be a wall standing between Being, as if... we constructed it out of our own amusement, and then punished ourselves for believing in such a thing. What do you think, Elymara?" Forrest walks to the window, just to make sure he hasn't hit anyone, and notices the coin already trampled under horse tracks, lost in the earth. He smiles to himself.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "What do we ought to do?"
Forrest moans, and then gives a little lilt of a grin. "I don't know. I think I lost myself."
Elymara Threadgoode says, "We ought to have more parties, I think."
Forrest brightens up, his mood becoming more cheerful. "Indeed!" he exclaims. "How about one tomorrow! We can bring apples and books!"
Elymara Threadgoode chews her lower lip and says, "I don't know... I think I have to work tomorrow. We could have one now."
Forrest rubs his head, running his hand through his hair. "Well, we don't have any apples..." He begins to pace, and then stops. "Tell you what! If you're in tomorrow, I'll bring apples and some books to your shop. Yes, I know you'll be busy, but if you have a spare moment, we can chomp merrily among your pile of velvet and string, and it'll be a good day. I promise."
Elymara Threadgoode nods and says, "Alright... but I'll be busy until late in the evening..."
"I'll just pop by, Elymara. Surprise you with a plate of apples." Forrest smiles. "Or something."
Elymara Threadgoode says, "That sounds good. I like apples. I wish I knew how to make pie, but I don't."
"I think I'm going to take a little hike and search for that child. You're free to tag along, if you'd like Elymara, or stay here and read. I'll be back in a few minutes, if I can find that rascal." Forrest walks to the counter and grabs a little bag, which he slings around his wrist.
Elymara Threadgoode says, "Do you think he's around? Maybe I'll come!"
Elymara Threadgoode sets the book down on the table top and hops from one foot to the other.
Forrest heads to the door, and slips out the door, his shadow waiting in the noon sun outside the shop for Elymara to follow.