The sun had just crept across the hills in the far distance when Virina realized she forgot something. Something important. But even though she was incredibly sure that she had, she simply couldn't make herself remember what it was she'd forgotten.
So, there she stood, hands on her hips, staring out at the sunrise as Woltan entered the tavern guest room.
"You're up early.," he remarked, yawning. His dark hair was still tousled from sleeping and his shirt was on backwards. Or maybe he just wore it that way. One could never know with druids.
"I forgot something. Something important. But I'm not sure what."
"Well, it can't be that important if you forgot." Woltan shrugged and went behind the counter to start preparing for the day. With an annoyed huff Virina threw her hands up and joined him. The first guests should be down soon and they still had to prepare breakfast.
The hearth of the "Golden lady" burnt bright and warmed up the small kitchen as Virina bound an apron around her waist. She moved past Woltan who rummaged through the cluttered shelves and grabbed a cutting board to chop some spring onion on.
It had been about three weeks since the four of them, Woltan, Gwendolyn, Falk and Virina had reopened the abandoned inn and almost half a year since they'd started fixing it. The casual rhythm of everyday work came easy and everyone had found a place to use their skills. Woltan worked as their head chef and host, his knowledge of herbs and meats making the food remarkable for such a small place. Gwendolyn used her, albeit a little suspicious, skill with numbers and her connections to make sure they never missed anything. Falk repaired and upscaled the building ever further, currently working in the shed on a real hayloft instead of the improvised stacks they'd managed so far. And Virina...well, Virina did whatever needed doing.
She helped wherever help was needed and made sure their guests had the best possible experience. As a priestess of the goddess Rahja, goddess of love, sensuality and arts, she was best used greeting and caring for guests. Sometimes in more than just the usual sense. Virina licked her lips remembering a few nights ago, where she had shared the bed with a half-elven fellow. He'd been quite enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. As had anyone who'd gotten the pleasure to take her to bed.
Woltan took away her cutting board and chucked the spring onion into the pan, cracking a few eggs on top of them. Like a hit in the face she was reminded of what she had forgotten. The chicken! She'd been supposed to feed them since Gwendolyn was in the city to get some paperwork sorted and the other two were busy.
Leaving Woltan to his cooking she hurried outside, waving to some tired guests. Outside an early summer chill still hung in the air, even though the sun already started warming the earth. Virina opened the barn door with quick hands, surprised that it didn't squeak loudly like it used to. Falk must have oiled it. Right next to the door there was a bucket full with corn and grain waiting for her. She picked it up advancing into the dimly lit barn.
A sudden noise made her stop in the middle of the way toward the chicken coop. It sounded different from the low clucking and picking of the chickens. Choked up. Like someone drawing in a gasping breath. Against her better judgement Virina carefully approached the source of the noise.
Another sharp gasp. Whatever could it be? An animal preying upon the chicken? A beggar having snuck into their barn to get a night's sleep? Or worse: someone waiting to rob them?
Virina snuck around a pillar and halted. The picture that revealed itself was anything but scary. Falk leaned against one of the goat's stalls, head tipped back, eyes closed. It was obviously him that had made these chocked-up sounds and Virina understood why as her gaze traveled further down. One of his hands was buried in his short, sandy hair, while the other...
