The man's name was Terrence Montfisco, and he was a Gyptian who had very unusually taken off on his own to travel. He had been forced by his mother, an old woman by the name of Ma Fisco, to come along with the rest of them to London. He was consequently rather out of sorts, and glared down at a tearful Roger who was lying now on the cobbles having bumped into the muscular man.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, sneering. "Do you even look where you're going, boy?"
Praskovia wriggled out of Roger's hands and into his collar, shrinking back from the Gyptian man's anger while Roger glared at the man.
"Why should I?" he asked the man, trying not to seem frightened or upset. The man's eyes softened, and he reached a hand down to help up the boy who got up of his own accord.
"Did I scare you? I didn't mean to, honest, it's just a bad day." He started suddenly, and his daemon, a falcon of some sort, wheeled up, staring down at Praskovia.
"You, you're like that Lyra! Any relation?" he asked, chuckling. Roger turned away.
"I'm her son. How do you know my mother?" he asked, distrustful and wary of this man who knew his mother's name and had a quick temper to boot. He backed away, and the man laughed again.
"Don't be scared, now. I used to battle your mother when I was a boy. She was feisty, you might say. Gave me a black eye once. I had to say that I walked into a door, but everyone knew what really happened." His face became friendly. "Her son? Well, do you want to meet my ma?" He offered a hand and Praskovia shivered in Roger's collar, unhappy. Roger considered it. He knew where most of the Gyptian boats were so it was probably perfectly safe. He shook the man's hand, walking beside him as they headed to the river where the barges were. He recognized several, before the man pointed to a sky blue barge.
"That one, that small one, is mine. Ma's is that green one." He shouted across to the latter.
"Ma! Someone you have to meet!"
Roger held his breath slightly. The Gyptian mothers always scared him, as they mostly had a swift slap for anyone who put on airs. He'd received a stinging ear from several of them for his indifference before, and he didn't know whether this one would be any different. The woman straightened up from sorting through what looked to be a basket of cloth and fixed piercing blue eyes on Roger.
"Looks like Lyra, right enough, my lad." She made her way across the barge's bridge to the land, and looked at him. He looked directly back.
"I'm her son, Roger." He carried on looking at the weathered face, guessing she was around her mid-fifties, and noticing that she had a couple of scars. Her daemon was a tiger that prowled after her, with glinting ebony stripes and coppery fur that caught the sunlight in an eye catching way, although Roger only looked at her daemon for a few minutes. She looked at him again and stretched a hand out to catch his cheek.
"Her son… I wonder who she married. One of the professors?" He nodded and Praskovia scuttled out from his collar, becoming a butterfly and settling on Roger's cap. Ma Fisco chuckled at this display of protectiveness, and walked back up to the barge.
"I think it's safe to think that you'll be staying for something to eat?" asked Terrence. "My name's Terrence, by the way." He grinned in a friendly way at the boy who nodded, as a pair of children ran over from the barge.
"Terrence! You never said that you were bringing Roger back!" cried the boy, hugging Roger's middle happily. Roger looked up at the man.
"They're your siblings?" The girl's daemon changed from a kitten to a bird and flew to hover by Roger's cap, while Terrence nodded, laughing. Praskovia changed into a sparrow and started to play some sort of game with the other daemon, as the boy released his hold on Roger's waist.
"I guess I could stay and have a meal," Roger said. He knew the children, Cathy and Theo, so he thought it would be safe enough. Besides, a delicious smell was wafting out of the barge which he presumed was the woman's cooking. Theo tugged him towards the barge's bridge and helped him while Terrence and Cathy followed behind. A small table had been set out on the open air bit with enough chairs for seven people, and Roger couldn't help but wonder who the other two might be.
Thoughts? It would be lovely if this was reviewed… But if anyone wants to flame, Lyra will be on the case. The professor is NOT the one mentioned in Lyra's Oxford, but just a random professor. Any suggestions for his name would be welcome.