The fifth evening bell at last rang, and the day finally relented. Menelline and Antinaud mopped the grease and sweat from their brow, gathered their tools, and left the foundry's smoldering maw behind. The blast of winter air that greeted them outside was welcome after eight bells beside a furnace. Payday wasn't for another two suns, but they still had ample coin for supper, and tucked their newly-bought groceries carefully away in their toolboxes before making their way home to the Brume.
They descended the rickety steps the same way they always did, and moved to turn the corner, when a flash of bright orange caught Menelline's eye. She paused and stared dumbfounded at the pictures plastered to the wall like makeshift wallpaper; no doubt they'd all be kindling by the end of the night.
"What's it say, Anti?"
He squinted. "S-uh...Stallion? Stallion Creme?"
"What's a Stallion?"
"S'like a male unicorn, I think."
"Oh." She blinked. "E'nt that the knight what been escorting Miss Ellie around?"
"Think so. Saw'm go in the office once."
The two stared at the picture. Church bells clamored from somewhere up in the pillars.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"
"Yeeeeeeep."
Antinaud snatched a flier from the wall, and the two raced back toward the foundry.
They descended the rickety steps the same way they always did, and moved to turn the corner, when a flash of bright orange caught Menelline's eye. She paused and stared dumbfounded at the pictures plastered to the wall like makeshift wallpaper; no doubt they'd all be kindling by the end of the night.
"What's it say, Anti?"
He squinted. "S-uh...Stallion? Stallion Creme?"
"What's a Stallion?"
"S'like a male unicorn, I think."
"Oh." She blinked. "E'nt that the knight what been escorting Miss Ellie around?"
"Think so. Saw'm go in the office once."
The two stared at the picture. Church bells clamored from somewhere up in the pillars.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"
"Yeeeeeeep."
Antinaud snatched a flier from the wall, and the two raced back toward the foundry.
Eliane Dufresne
The Dufresne Bellworks
The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
The Dufresne Bellworks
The hand you are dealt is determinism; the way you play it is free will.
