A Place Called Home [Tag A+L]

[Allan A Dale]

He could certainly vouch for them. He'd missed the motherly natures of his friends when he'd been gone.

Allan took the ranting. It was good for her to get it out and yes, he did want to hear what had happened. In her anger, she'd let her guard down and she let it all out. He felt awful when she bared her arm, angry purple marks glaring at him from just beneath the fabric. For the briefest of moments he thought it had been him, but he realised that he'd laid his hands on them when he came in; that had to have hurt her somewhat, and he felt a twinge of guilt.

He was, however, annoyed that she seemed to think he believed she asked for the punishment. "I'm not suggesting you try and take him out!" he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest defensively. "All I'm thinking is that there's got to be something, or someone, you can go to who can help! What about yer mother?" He didn't know the situation, and he didn't know why he was trying to get involved. It was one of his own rules he was breaking here, and he was just digging himself deeper into it.

He felt sorry for her. She couldn't hate him completely. He knew the feeling, sort of. No matter what your family did, you still loved them at the end of the day, and you'd do what you could for them, when you could. But stealing your purse and knocking you across teh room weren't really comparable. Doesn't know his own strength, Allan laughed in his head. Like hell he don't.
Flung her across the room? What the hell had he done that for? What could she have possibly done to warrant such an action? He could see why she had such a clean cut, and for that he was somewhat thankful.

"Or would you rather just blame him for all of it because it’s easier than realising that it might actually be your fault?!”[/i]

That was a punch to the gut. Allan didn't know whether to be angry or horrified. How had it been his fault? Had he asked the older man to throw her across the room, he wanted to ask her. Had he asked the man to grip her so tightly that he left marks on her shoulders? No, he bloody well hadn't.
But he had overstayed his welcome. He had been holding her when the man came in, and he had stayed the night; he'd tried to talk to him. If this was a regular occurence in the house, it wouldn't take much to set him off, and that would probably be enough. And so that tiny little twinge of guilt he'd been feeling earlier grew just that bit bigger, and he bit down on his own lip and kept his temper in check. He didn't want to feel guilty, and he didn't want to be angry, which just enraged him further.
Kate wasn't looking at him, and he was glad. If she wanted to blame him, then fine. He'd keep his nose out of it in the future. Wasn't any of his business in the first place. He pushed off from the wall and grabbed hold of the door handle, stopping only for a moment.

"Luke's in the mill with your father," he said, calmly, as he turned the handle and opened the door, resisting the urge to spit out the word father.

[Kate Miller]

”My mother? You saw her. She tends to pretend it doesn’t happen. Doesn’t matter what injuries I appear with, it’s not her problem. And it’s not yours!” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. That was just bloody great. She sniffed and looked away from him. He’d laughed when she talking, or rather ranted, about her father. He didn’t want to believe her. Fair enough. All he had seen of her father was the bastard that he could be, he hadn’t seen what Kate normally did. The arse side of the man wasn’t a normal thing, once in a blue moon. Once a month. That was all. But It would last for a week, these moods. Sometimes longer. Then she could go a while without anything happening. But then it would all flare up again.

She bit down so hard on the other side of her lip, she was in danger of splitting that side as well. Sometimes she wished she thought about what she said before she said it. He didn’t say anything for what seemed like at least five minutes. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. When he moved though she looked. Where was he going? He couldn’t just leave.

”Luke’s in the mill with your father.” she could feel the distaste that came through in his voice. Was it entirely aimed at her father? She doubted it.

”I’m sorry!” she blurted standing up quickly and taking the few steps it took to reach him. ”Please, you’re the only person that knows about all of this. I’m sorry. He thinks he’s losing me. I’m his eldest daughter, he wants to me to stay here my entire life, old and alone. God, I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot. You’re the only person who’s actually trying to help me and I’m driving you away. I don’t mean to do it! I’ve had such a bad experience of the male gender that I can’t seem to form any sort of legible reasoning behind my thoughts!” she sighed, blinking a few times, refusing to let the moisture fall. It clumped her eyelashes and made them glisten, but the liquid didn’t fall.

”Don’t leave me here.”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan bit down on the inside of his cheek as Kate began apologising, eyes fluttering to try and keep back tears. Of course he'd seen her mother, but she was like that all the time? How was he to have known? What right did you have to assume? that little voice in his head countered. And now she was taking it back; it wasn't his fault. Then whose was it? Who could take the blame for how upset she was?

His resolve to leave, to get out while he still had the chance lessened. He was a sucker for women in need, really he was; it was why he had rules in the first place. He wanted to believe that the things she was saying were all fabricated, that she was just trying to get him to stay a little longer, maybe use him as a metaphorical punching bag for her emotions, but he could hear it in her voice; she was being sincere, and that hurt a little. She wasn't lying.

He sighed and closed the door again, turning to face her but not removing his hand from the handle. He'd have to go soon, he did have a job to do; the drop off couldn't wait forever.

"Don't leave me here."[/i]

"Well I can't take you with me," he muttered to himself, hoping she didn't hear. Louder, he said, "Luke's sticking around a bit; maybe that'll ease his temper or at least stop him from actually hitting you. And you ain't an idiot; you're going through a rough time. I'm not any good at this sort of thing."

"Look, I got some old clothes in the drop off that I saved for you, do you want me to go get 'em?" he asked, smiling at her softly. "I'll come back, promise; they're just outside the door and I reckon you can use 'em for something good. You're a neat little seamstress, eh?"

He decided the topic could stew for a few days; he'd come back and have a word with her somewhere quieter.

[Kate Miller]

"Luke's sticking around a bit; maybe that'll ease his temper or at least stop him from actually hitting you.” she smiled slightly at that. It was true. With Luke around, her father wouldn’t dare raise a hand. The lad was far to close to Kate, and he would no doubt not be hesitant in reporting what had happened to somebody. ”And you ain't an idiot; you're going through a rough time.” ‘a rough time’ that was it. A rough life more like. She swiftly smiled though. At least he didn’t think she was entirely stupid. Even if she was. ”I'm not any good at this sort of thing." You could have fooled me.

She nodded, ”Gives me something to mess around with, shut him up a while.” it was the simple things like that, that made life feel slightly better. Okay, so just like that he could change the subject, and make her feel slightly better. Yes she’d acknowledged that he was going to leave. But at the same time, he wasn’t leaving her on her own. She’d have somebody there to stop him. Like Allan had done Monday Evening.

She laughed slightly at the compliment. ‘Good little seamstress’ or not. It didn’t hide the fact that life wasn’t amazing right now. But he’d spared her some thought. And it wasn’t like she could deprive the rest of Knighton of what they were entitled too.

”You can come by again when your done. See whatever it is I’ve managed to do in the time.” she liked setting challenges for herself. Not only was it fun, it gave her something to concentrate on when times got a little tougher than they should have. A little like now.

”Thanks, Allan”

[Allan A Dale]

Allan nodded. Something to shut him up. He'd bloody give the man something to shut him up if he didn't think it would make things worse. And if he didn't think getting involved would make things extremely awkward. He briefly toyed with the idea of telling Will what was going on; Will was her friend, his intervention would surely be more welcomed, but Allan decided against it; he'd already said he wouldn't (not that such a thing had ever stopped him before). He did, however, intend to drop a few hints and hopefully that, along with Luke's living nearby, would be enough to tip the Scarletts off. He didn't quite know what they could do; perhaps Kate and Luke could move somewhere else, Nettlestone perhaps, and work over there maybe, but for now he'd have to leave things be. He had a job to do. Like drop offs. He started counting the houses in his head, going over the list once more.

He smiled at Kate; at least she was laughing a little. But she still didn't look right with that cut, whether she'd done it herself or she'd had help. "That sounds good," he nodded. He could check if Luke was back; he wasn't going to be leaving Knighton without finding out the situation with the younger Scarlett anyway, so he may as well kill time with some good company. He dashed outside and rummaged through one of the bags Luke had been carrying; there they were, an array of slightly garish garments he'd found amongst the many strange and wonderful treasures of the outlaws and had staked claim for. A few eyebrows had been raised but no one had said anything.

He came back in and presented the clothes, giving a quick mocking bow. "For my lady," he grinned, dumping them in her arm. He nodded at her; he didn't mind helping, but he wasn't sure he was actually doing any good. She seemed to like talking to him though, and he certainly didn't mind talking to someone besides the gang, especially not someone he actually enjoyed being with, so perhaps they'd have to make it a more common thing.

Hm, that was an idea. He'd mention it when he came back.

He started for the door again, stopping for a moment to wave. "See ya in a few then, yeah?"

[Kate Miller]

Kate nodded and smiled at him, as he presented her with an array of frankly odd looking material and clothing. As he went to leave again, she felt slightly less safe than she had before. He waved, as she put the pile on the desk, next to the door. She smiled at him, before replying with a short wave of her own. ”Don’t be too long okay? I don’t want to be explaining this,” she gestured in the direction of her face, ”to Luke on my own. He’ll ask questions until I buckle and I really don’t need him worrying about me as well as Will. Okay?” she smiled at him, and sighed as he left.

She picked up the first items. Right then. She looked it over. It was a dress, a simple pale pink dress, which he gave to her with a black over coat. She thought about it, then it clicked. Grabbing the scissors, she cut the top off of the over coat, and slit the over coat up the front. Pulling it around the pale pink dress like a sort of corset. Only not as tight. She quickly tacked the seams, she wouldn’t have time to sew them in the time he was gone. She need to attach some sort of buckle to the front.

She grabbed he scraps of material from the tidy cupboard, and found a black to suit. She cut and looped them, tacking them attached to one side of the black corset-esque thing. On the other side she attached another loop, only one end attached, with a button hole and loop. All rough cut, and no where near perfect. She could do that later.

She roughly sewed the black to the pink, making the seam slightly neater as she went. Once again, not perfect, but it would do.

Creativity she could do. Sure it wasn’t the most flamboyant and amazing thing in the world she could have done. But she didn’t exactly have the longest of time frames to do anything to it. Once she was done with main shape of the dress, she went about neatening up the seams. She could do hat now until Allan came back, it wasn’t the most amazing thing, but hey, it could impress a none designer… maybe.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan nodded. He could understand. There were so many explanations. "I'll try to think of something, ok?" he said, and left.

He grabbed the first bag and split up the contents; some food for the Smiths who hadn't made enough to cover costs; the Carpenters were getting a few tools Much had picked up from the castle; the Thatchers had a little cash because they were behind on their taxes. The Millers, he decided, he could take care of last - he found a small pouch of coins in the bag, probably from Marian, that he'd forgotten about, and he slipped it in his pocket so he wouldn't forget.

A short while later, Allan dumped the last basket of food down on to the doorstep of a recently widowed mother of three. He had insisted on this particular drop off; her husband had been one of the guards at Nottingham, killed accidentally by a wild horse in the stables. He'd been a good man, like many of the guards, and hadn't actually been particularly pleased to find himself working for the Sheriff but hey, it was a job and it paid decent wages, all things considered. Now, with no one to look after the family, his beloved was going to find herself in the Sheriff's bad books quickly. Allan knocked on the door and pegged it, leaping over the fence and darting back off to Kate's house, the door still slightly ajar.

He stuck his head in, smiling, and pulled himself through, closing the door slowly and quietly. Kate was hunched over the pink dress, some black thrown over the top. She'd done all that in the time he'd gone? He was impressed. She did quick work.

"Heya," he said, giving a small wave and announcing himself. He noticed that Luke wasn't around, and remembered he'd said he'd try to think up a somewhat decent excuse. He pondered the problem for a moment, his mind working quickly as it wove a small but tight web of lies. It was what he was good at, after all.

"Right," he said, clapping his hands as he finished thinking about the problem at hand - a reasonable and believable lie for Luke. He didn't think that the boy would buy it for a minute; he was too suspicious, and seemed oddly good at realising when Allan was lying. Or, he had earlier. It had baffled the outlaw briefly. "You, the ever dutiful daughter, went to fetch some water for your mother as she started cooking dinner. Unfortunately, whoever had been there last made a bit of a mess, the git! It were all muddy and slippy, not good for someone so dainty. As you approached, considering an order that needed finishing soon, you slipped over on the mud, flying forwards, and whacked your face against the well. Any good?"

He scratched his head a little. "Of course, you won't go into detail, you'd just say you fell over and you can elaborate if he asks, but at least you'd have a back story."

He walked forward slowly to make sure Kate didn't startle again and leaned over her, looking at the dress. "Eh, that looks alright, ain't it? Knew you'd be able to do something with 'em."

[Kate Miller]

”Heya,”[/i] Kate’s head whipped up, and she smiled as she saw he was back. She gestured for him to come in – returning his wave. He slapped his hands together as he came in, he had a plan? "You, the ever dutiful daughter, went to fetch some water for your mother as she started cooking dinner,” Kate nodded, looking away from him as he formulated his plan. Water, okay that made sense, she headed down to the Well a lot, she always had so that rang true with her past, Luke was likely to believe it, ”Unfortunately, whoever had been there last made a bit of a mess, the git!” she let out a laugh. Definitely git-ish. ”It were all muddy and slippy, not good for someone so dainty.” Dainty eh? that pink tinge, that became so permanent when she was around him, came back in force, “As you approached, considering an order that needed finishing soon, you slipped over on the mud, flying forwards, and whacked your face against the well. Any good?"[/i] her smiled brew, even if slightly painful. She nodded, it made sense, complete sense.

”That’s great, thank you!” he was approaching her slowly. He was taking into account the fact that she’d pulled away from him before – it was considerate of him, made her feel happier. Still slightly shaky, but then she knew he wasn’t about to hurt her, he wouldn’t dare, not after the fit he threw over her father doing the same thing. It would seem the last thing he wanted was for her to hurt. That’s why she felt safe. She’d known him what? Three days, four tops. And she trusted him, appreciated his opinion and welcomed his help more than anything. Outside of her family he was the only person that knew the truth about her father.

”Thank you. Right, no elaborating unless quizzed, and no giving the game away! Did I say thank you?” she laughed slightly, turning around back to he work. He looked aver her shoulder. Smiling at her work. His praise was probably false, but it didn’t really matter, he sounded honest about it, but he was Allan A Dale - known liar and cheat, he didn’t appear to be cheating now. ”And another time, thanks. What can I say? It’s fun to do!” she smiled at him. She wanted to reach out and hug him, thank him. Thank him for making her feel safe. Even if she wasn’t completely.

”I haven’t heard any shouting, so I’m guessing Luke’s been rung round the neck, or” she countered elongating the vowel,”[/b] they’re setting aside their differences. Either way, it’s,”[/b] she lower her voice to all but a whisper, ”slightly scary!” she squinted and smiled slightly as she leant back in her chair. Much like she had on the Tuesday morning that he’d left. Using back on the two legs of the chair – one of the things that winded her father up. Hence why she only did it when he wasn’t around to watch.

(From 230 - 500 woop for me!)

[Allan A Dale]

(OOC - well done indeed. Also, Anni - totally referring to the 1x07 "I will if you will" comment in this, although if at any point Djaq cares to call this up... XD;; )

He gave a little mock bow and grinned. "You're welcome." He nodded in response to her comment and pushed himself back, away from her again and leant against the wall. He gestured at the gown in her hands and grinned. "Whaddya think, my colour? Don't tell no one but I made a deal with Djaq once, trying to get her to wear a dress. Don't think it stuck, but hey, if she calls me up on it I'm kind of screwed."

He scratched his head. Why was he always telling her this sort of thing? He hadn't even mentioned it to Will, and the carpenter was his best friend. So why Kate?

Because who's she gonna tell? a little voice whispered back, and he wanted to shake his head; he was answering himself again. She tells anyone in the village, they know she's an outlaw collaborator. And why would she tell Will? She doesn't get to see him or the other outlaws that often, so she has more important things to talk about. And Luke, well... hopefully she won't tell Luke. You could be screwed there too.

He gave a small chuckle as Kate suggested that Luke may have been strangled. He hoped not; he'd soon find himself hanging from the largest oak in Sherwood by a place he'd rather keep hidden away if he let the boy be killed. "Nah, he can look after himself and besides, settling their differences would be a good thing wouldn't it? wish I could go back and do that with some of the folks back home sometimes..."

He'd go back to Rochdale one day. For a brief visit.

Maybe when people had forgotten his face. There were several who'd all like to have a go at him...

[Kate Miller]

Kate laughed at him, ”I’d say blue, or green.” she said looking from the material in front of her to Alan, looking him up and down as well, ”It would bring out the colour in your eyes.” Not that she had been looking in too much detail of course. But the amount of times she had looked over him the last few days, his eyes were the one distinguishing feature she wasn’t about to forget any time soon. They could look right into you. See your bare soul if they tried, at least that’s what it felt like.

”I dunno,” she said, planting all four legs of her seat on the floor, and getting up from her chair. She walked over to the open wardrobe and reached up for one of the sacks. She rummaged through it as she spoke, ”It would be rather strange for my father to get along with anybody. Especially anybody outside of our family. And he rarely gets along with us.” she said pulling out a mid-blue clump of fabric (which was indeed a dress) and throwing in Allan’s general direction.

”If she ever does call you on it!” she laughed making her way back over to him. She stood a few foot in front of him, closer than they really had been properly since he father’s outburst. ”You jus wait till Will hears about you and your weird obsession with being a woman. Alas I shan’t see him for a while. So I doubt he’ll ever find out.” she went quiet for a moment. Looking at the floor. Fidgeting slightly.

”D’you think Luke’s likely to believe me? If I tell him I fell?” she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before looking down and only having it un-tuck itself immediately at the action. ”He doesn’t know what he’s like. But at the same time, he asks a lot of questions. What happens if I slip up in a response?”

[Allan A Dale]

He quirked an eyebrow at that, but let it slide. She was one of those artsy people, she'd pay attention to what suited whom. He just wore warm things. What was the point in trying to get it to match his shoes? He wasn't a woman, no matter how much he joked about it.

He wondered what she was looking for, and nodded as she spoke, but he didn't really understand. Didn't the man like anyone? Couldn't he just be nice to someone? Of course, Allan didn't know that the man was always grouchy, but by the sounds of it he was always foul tempered. He oughtn't judge, though; people's opinions were just that and didn't always reflect the exact nature of a person.

Though Peter sounded like a right git.

He was startled from his thoughts as a mass of blue flew into his face, and he threw his hands up to remove the offending garment. He peeled it off his face and held it out, shifting it round until it was the right way up.

A dress.

He lowered it slightly and raised an eyebrow at Kate as she laughed at him. There was a joke and there was taking things a little too far. Oh well, at least it was sort of funny. He chuckled a little, mostly at the thought of him ever fitting in something so dainty, and he started rolling it up, ready to shove in one of the empty sacks and take it with him. He didn't know if it could come in handy, but he'd have it ready if it did.

"Not being funny but he already thinks I'm a bit of a girl," Allan muttered, chucking the rolled up dress in the air and catching it with one hand. He noticed she'd walked closer, and that was nice; she was feeling somewhat comfortable again.

She went quiet, and then asked him a question he couldn't really answer. Would Luke believe her? It depended on a number of factors. Could she lie well? Did she know how to respond to the young man? Was he any good at catching out liars? (Allan suspected this was quite possible, if he was anything like his older brother). Was she known for being clumsy, because if she didn't have at least a few tumbles to her name then it rendered the story slightly useless.

He had the feeling that wasn't what Kate wanted to hear.

"Honestly?" he asked, and almost laughed. "It depends on you. If he does ask questions, lie. Or, if you can't lie, deflect them. I dunno, start asking him how the rescue went or something. That ought to sidetrack him for a bit. If you slip up, cover it if you can. If you can't..."

He sighed. He didn't like lying for other people. "At the end of the day I don't think you're gonna be able to keep it from him for long. He's gonna be around a bit, living here or elsewhere, so you or your dad or the gossips will tip him off eventually. I don't recommend you keep lying to him. You'll hurt his feelings and if you've been friends a long time then he'll want to think you can trust him with that sort of thing..."

[Kate Miller]

Kate laughed, Will would thick he was a girl, Will was a bit of a girl as well. ”You are a bit of a girl!” she laughed, she could sense that this was going to be a common occurrence between them. He was a girl, Alana. She smiled to herself, that soon turning to a slight frown.

”I can lie, my father still believes you’re a passer-by who needed a new outfit. A Bit sketchy. He doesn’t think I can work fast, even though I do have some clothes already at hand. Not that he would ever pay attention to my work long enough to find out.” He had a point. Lying to Luke was going to be hard work, he was going to be living with her, and at some point she would slip up.

”I know I can’t lie to him, but he’s got so much to worry about at the moment, I don’t need to be added to the list.” She went quite again. She could trust Luke. She knew she could, with everything, with her life. But she just didn’t need him to be fretting about her as well. ”I’ll tell him, just not now. Next time.” there was no point adding ‘if’ to that. She knew there would be. There was always something she did that managed to annoy her father.

”He knows me to well for me to lie to him for long. He knows when I am. In the end it won’t be worth it.” To give the guy credit where credit was due. Even though he’d not spent a long time with her in recent years, it wasn’t his fault, and she assumed that he still knew he better than anybody else (Apart from maybe Sarah).

”So,” she started, not wanting for Luke to be walking in on them discussing her lying to him, ”How’d the rescue go?” it was the only thing she could think of that if Luke came in he could talk to them about as well. In even more depth than Allan ever could, having been there and all.

(OOC - I'm scking today sorry!)

[Allan A Dale]

Allan had forgotten about the lying to her father, and wondered if it was such a good idea to be lying to the man if he already knocked her around. Then again, he might be worse if he knew the truth. It was one of those awkward situations where you just had to hope for the best, really. Allan shrugged. It was a shame the man didn't pay attention to her; maybe if he did, he'd act differently.

Not like there was anything he could do about it though.

Next time... he thought. People always said next time, but he suspected it would take a little not-so-gentle persuasion to get her to tell the boys. He wasn't thinking about the idea of her being hit again. It would probably just make him mad again.

Allan nodded. Change in conversation, he could go with that. Of course, he didn't really know much about the rescue; there hadn't been much discussion of it and Allan had only been able to piece a vauge idea of what happened from random comments from Will and the others.

"As far as I know it were pretty easy. In, grabbed Will, ran out, raced home. Think Marian and Robin had a run in with Gu-Gisborne, but they ain't talking 'bout it much. They were more concerned with other things. I've been making meself scarce - hunting squirrels, getting fresh water... I think people needed a little room. A lot of events in a little time and all that stuff."

He liked the quiet anyway. He'd gotten used to it over the few past months.

[Kate Miller]

”I can understand that, I spose. I mean, rather forget about it than talk about it. Shut it out…” Yes, that she could understand, that she did every time she gained another bruise or cut. Hiding behind the cover stories, rather believing them herself than what actually happened. Carry on with life, until next time. (There was always a next time where her father was concerned. Kate could do very little according to him.)

Occasionally in dreams it would all come flooding back to her. (No not dreams, they were nightmares). You can’t control your sub-conscious thought. At least that’s what she thought. She’d love to find a way that she could block all negativity in her sleep – alas she was no sorceress, so she would have to deal with it.

Next time, next time, she really would have to tell Luke, if not before. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from him forever. She had always been a careful child. Certainly she had gotten into a few scraps – grazes on her knees, running into things, gaining bruises for herself; like children did – but never all that often. So, once was plausible. Twice was pushing it. Three times was just plain ridiculous.

”I’ll ask Luke about it then I guess,” she said with a slight smile, ”Thanks for bringing him back safe. It means a lot. He worships his brother, always has. I know he’d give anything to be with him in the forest. So thanks,” she didn’t really know what else she could do or say. It wasn’t that she felt uncomfortable around him, quite the opposite, but she has run out of things to mention – that she wouldn’t feel a complete idiot talking about.

”Uh, so I see Will dumped you with his responsibility then?” she said indicating the sacks, and meaning Luke as well. Simple, none idiotic topic.

[Allan A Dale]

Allan shrugged. They'd talk when they wanted to; probably on a suicide mission, but he'd get it out of them one day. It was his own bloody fault for injuring his ankle, else he would have been with them (or they might not have been in the situation at all; it depended on how you looked at the course of events and whether or not they would have been in Knighton earlier if the pit trap incident hadn't happened).

Of course, Allan mused, If Will wasn't such a mini Robin we'd be fine.

Allan grinned, giving her a slight nod in recognition of the thanks. "No problem, I were coming here anyway, so I were just keeping him company. Kid can look after himself by the sounds of it, though."

Allan scolded himself mentally. Not kid, Luke. Or Lukey if he wanted to be annoying. Which he probably would be at some point or another. "Yeah, I don't think he actually wanted to come here but Will was pretty determined. Reckons he's a bit safer here," he said aloud, pondering the situation and coming to a realisation. "Though you gotta admit, it's not exactly safe here either. I mean the Sheriff's crazy, he just likes to hurt people some days an' you don't have to do anything drastic to be the one suffering when he's in a mood." It was a well known fact anyway; even his poor birds suffered his wrath when he had no good reason to take it out on people. And, of course, Gisborne was a favoured verbal punch bag.

Allan laughed. It wasn't like Will could have done it himself and he was happy to pick up the slack; Knighton was alright these days. But he couldn't tell Kate that. He'd said he was relatively unharmed. Which, to be fair, was true; most of Will was fine, it was just that he'd had a knife stuck clean through his hand and now couldn't use it for a while, thus rendering him somewhat useless. It wasn't like he couldn't use the other just as well though; as long as he didn't have to do any fighting or crafting he ought to be ok.

"Djaq's just being a bit of a mother at the moment," Allan replied, waving his hand around a bit. He leaned in a bit, as if they were two conspirators. "Between you and me, I think he's already a bit sick of the attention. Never did like the limelight. Weird bloke. I mean, if a pretty girl is gonna fuss over you, you take it don't ya?" Realising his audience, he added, "Or in your case, a nice bloke."

(OOC - I think my writing mojo may be back...? *touch wood*)