Title: Solitude
Time Period: December 27, 134 A.E.
Characters Appearing:

Summary: She needs so much looking after.

At night, at the water's edge, the wind bites cruelly against those foolish enough to still be out in it and even without the added chill of winter it's enough to send most looking for cover.

These days, Bridget is aware how bad an idea it is to linger down here, but every so often, she finds her feet carrying her to the shoreline and planting themselves there. At least she's got boots on this time. And a coat. Her cheeks are wet, which is probably why she's here and not at the pub with her fellows in the militia. Emotional displays are limited to those of anger or desire in that particular company, if she can help it at all.

"You will catch your death of cold out here, if you keep foolishly standing there" It's a chiding welsh voice that has long since been familiar to Bridget over the years and it's from far enough away that she could ignore it if she wanted. But the bird that comes to land with a flutter of wings and black crest jaunting out from the tip of it's head is more of an insurance policy for an answer.

Dina is dressed warmly, Horses behind her stamping their feet, one tethered to the other, lead behind the one that Dina seems to have ridden. A lamp flares to life in the dark, illuminating the magess in it's soft glow and shows her brows lifted in expectation.

For a moment, it seems like she might ignore the voice, or more likely, that it takes a moment to cut through the fugue to get her attention. It's obvious when she does notice, though, as her fingers come to wipe roughly at her cheeks before she turns around.

"I only meant to stay a moment, Aunt," she says, both voice and bird too familiar. She looks back to the ocean, lips thinning gently, before she starts to walk toward Dina. "Have I missed dinner again?" It's less because she's hungry and more a semi-subtle inquiry as to how long she's been out there.

"There was some put away. We can heat it up for you. Or if you choose to, you can get something at the pub with your friends" She won't demand the young woman come back with her if she doesn't end up doing so. With Bridget moving, Greets-The-Sun lifts off from the militia woman's shoulder taking to air to eventually settle down on Dina's arm when she lifts it away from her body and let the familiar make it's way to her shoulder.

When the other woman draws near enough, Dina's hand settles on the woman's shoulder to give it a squeeze then draw her in for a one handed embrace. "Your solitude does not look well on you. It weighs heavy on your shoulders. It will give you wrinkles between your eyes and then no man will want you" The last more a tease than anything, something to provoke something other than the sorrowful looks at the water.

Bridget returns the embrace, Dina being the single person alive she feels comfortable sharing such gestures with, even if her words bring out a sheepish look. At least until the end.

The laugh that follows is soft enough to seem strange on so gruff a woman, but it is good for banishing darker thoughts. "I would be more worried, were I not beating away suitors daily," she teases back. If there's one thing Bridget has never been, it's desirable. But she's quite comfortable with that, all in all.

"I would be worried too. besides, they will not care about the lines on your face" She touches her forehead to bridgets before releasing here, gesturing to the horses with the lamps but making no movement yet. Greets-The-Sun stands watch of course, ready should he be needed. "You know that they will never come in on any ship" A conversation had many times before, in the years past.

"I suppose if they cared about lines, they'd have several bigger complaints that would rank higher, in my own case. Plus, they'd have to worry about being good enough with a sword to get close." Bridget starts for the horses with that gesture, although the words make her stop as she takes the reins in hand.

"I know." It's solemnly spoken, but somehow she manages to look at Dina instead of back at the waters. "A part of me can't stay away, though." The same answer she has every time. She pats the horse before mounting up, but once she's there, she seems to notice the cold, as her hands rub at her arms, jacket or no.

Dina can't say that she commiserates, that she understands. She doesn't, the same hasn't happened to her. She's not so fast as Bridget in getting up onto her own mount, having to maneuver with turning the lamp out first so as not to hurt or scare the horse. But she does and with a soft click of her tongue against teeth and nudge with her feet, her own is turning around with a stamping of hooves to ease into step beside Bridget. "Has the hurt lessened any these years?"

Bridget tilts her head at the question, taking the time it takes to turn her own horse to ponder an answer. "I would say… it isn't so much that the hurt lessens in time, but that I mind carrying it with me less as time goes on. I feel less angry than I did when I was younger. It's overwhelming less often. Perhaps it is more like an old scar now, than an open wound. The sting is missing, but the effects linger."

"hmmm" Hmm, says Dina. Mistress of memories as some have called her that know what exactly her skill is in magics. "They would gnash their teeth and shake their head at how you've turned out. But then they would be proud as well" Beneath the layers Dina smiles, both hands on the reins, guiding her horse over the ground, Greets-The-Sun having taken off into the air and fly ahead. "I hope, that you have wanted for nothing since then, with us"

"The job of children everywhere, I suppose, to be part frustration and part joy," Bridget says, taking her own reins and following along beside Dina. Those last words make her glace over, though, and her head shakes firmly, "Not at all, Aunt. I have always been very grateful for you both taking me into your family. I've been happier than I thought I could be, after."