[ Alistair is sewing—because he can, if not very expertly, at least well enough to stitch his name into his socks and repair his own clothes with just a bit of weird puckering, and because keeping busy keeps him from brooding too obviously. At this particular moment he's sewing up one of the tents where the bursts of strong wind through the valley have been slowly tearing a small hole into a big one. Big needle, thick string. It's a lot easier than buttons. Easy enough that he doesn't stop when Cade approaches, only looks at him and then very obviously looks around the camp beyond him to see who else is present before he smiles a bit, in a baffled way.
The bafflement doubles when Cade starts talking. Then it slowly segues into suspicion as he goes on. ]
Sssure, [ he says, wary but willing to humor him. Cakes. ] Did you bring them?
no subject
The bafflement doubles when Cade starts talking. Then it slowly segues into suspicion as he goes on. ]
Sssure, [ he says, wary but willing to humor him. Cakes. ] Did you bring them?