Amelia
4E 201
15th of Last Seed
Riverwood, Whiterun Hold
Place, raise, chop. Earn your keep. Place, raise, chop. Go to the city. Place, raise, chop. Find a wizard. Place, raise, chop. Have them cast some magic. Place, raise, chop. Get back home. Place, raise, chop. Back to New Mexico. Place, raise, chop. Back to Mom and Dad.
These were the thoughts that ran through Amelia's head as she continued her work at Lod's mill. Wiping sweat from her brow, she decided to take a short break before getting back to work. She sat down by the river, massaging her aching arms while she watched the water rush along.
She missed home already, and wondered what her family was thinking. That she ran off, disappeared, even kidnapped? The thought of her worried parents only worried her further.
"Done already, Tusks?", she heard a voice say. It was Jack, the grey-furred "Khajiit", one of five who had come here along with her.
"Nicknames… is that what you're doing instead of working now?" she replied.
"Hey, the chickens can only eat so much."
Jack had gotten the easiest job, as he had started a dibs system without the consent of the others. Dillon was given the job of working the bellows for the smith, Alvor. Ben sweeped the porch of each house. Reagan had to help that cranky merchant take stock for his shipments, and poor George had to clean out the stables. Now, here Jack was, eating an apple, as if he didn't look douchey enough.
"There a reason you aren't minding your own damn business, Jack?" she sniped.
"Hey, hey, no need to get nasty… just making polite conversation."
"About?"
"Our fellow foreigners in this weird-ass place, whaddya think about em?"
Amelia thought for a moment, "Well… it feels like everyone's got something to hide, Dillon is all smiles, Bens' too damn quiet, I ain't sure if Reagan's got a resting bitch face or if she's just a straight up bitch, George tries to hard to look cool, and you, well, you're just a prick, nothin' mysterious about that."
"I have one of those faces, it's all in the smile." Jack said, as he flashed the aforementioned smile. "What about you, you got something hiding beneath the tough girl act?"
"Nothing that's your business, that's for sure." She retorted.
He stood back, stared for a moment, then smiled again, "Welp, I'll leave you to it, later Tusks!"
He said as he walked off onto the bridge back into town.
Pushing that conversation aside, she thought she had rested long enough, and needed to get back to work. She hefted her axe, and began again. Place, raise, chop. Deck that smarmy cat in his furry face. Place, raise, chop.