Story22 Jan 2009 08:31 pm

Rook was up early, definitely before his sister who had a habit of sleeping in regularly even when she didn’t fall asleep exhausted. Charlie had come downstairs about halfway through breakfast being prepared, the scent of waffles pulling him from sleep and dispelling any vestiges of sleep. Charlie looked like he wanted to help the copper haired chef but Rook would have none of it, telling him to have a seat and chill in the brisk morning air till breakfast was done.

In between cooking each waffle Rook rooted around in the cupboards and fridge, stopping randomly to pop an olive into his mouth from one of the jars.  He also seemed to remember something in the middle of stirring batter and turned to open the casement for the single window in the kitchen. The intent of course was to let in light for the single flower sitting in the window sill. While the only effect of opening the window was to show a lighted gray sky and a continuous drizzle, the single blue flower gave the spacious kitchen an illusion of modesty.

Strangely enough for as dingy as it appeared outside the window, opening it seemed to have brightened the room considerably. Rook placed a good sized pile of waffles before his sisters’ roomie not long after Charlie sat down, who began to eradicate them rather methodically. “This is one hell-of-a breakfast.” He said between bites while licking the milky white cream from his fork. There was a hint of nutmeg, cinnamon and hazelnut in it giving the cream a very pleasant flavor. Charlie grinned happily, “Where’d you learn to make waffles taste better than normal waffles?”

“Oh you know, tricked an Each Uisge into giving me a recipe book from a master cook that he intern had fooled into one of the lochs.” Rook chuckled and sat down with his own plate beginning to eat with a hearty appetite. There was a large loch bordering his land up to the north, and a smaller one setting just behind the manor a few hundred yards away. Rook wondered idly if he would even stand a chance in an encounter with an Each Uisge, not noticing that his stack of waffles were slowly becoming an artful display of a horse as he ate.

Charlie cocked his head to the side and looked at Rook oddly, “An Axe Ishka? What’s that?” No doubt some mythos. Strangely enough as skeptical as Charlie was he had rather enjoyed Rowen’s brother’s story last night.

“Ah, tis a water-horse, of one particular kind. They tend to be the meanest, so you gotta keep your wits sharp, and never trust a horse offerin you a free ride out here. Especially if there is water nearby, or any scent of water for that matter.”

A sleepy voice emanated from the doorway, “Rook, don’t go scarin the boy with such talk, he might not want to go swimming with me in the loch later.” The last half of Rowen’s comment was muffled by a yawn that erupted in the middle.

“Ah well I could be telling him about the story here about where a young toddler was kidnapped by a local haunt in a neighboring castle ruin, and was later found on the shores of the Loch. They say that a fellow saw a horse near the water, and when he came to investigate only found the babe, nice and warm under a pile of dried seaweed. He looked about for the horse but all he saw was a single set of ripples out in the otherwise glass smooth water. Mayhaps we have one of them supposedly benevolent spirits.” He winked at his sister.

Charlie chuckled at the recount, thinking to ask more about the story later, and looked over at the latecomer, her hair a disarray and sleep still filling her eyes, pulling at her eyelids. No Rowan was definitely not a morning person. “Good thing you finally got up, I might have eaten your helping of breakfast.”

“I’d have let him too, he looks half starved. What sort of caregiver are you, to let your housemates go without food. For shame little sister. For shame.”

“Oh do be quiet, can’t be letting him know I can cook as well as you now. Then I might actually have to start preparing food at home.” She shot a mock glare at her brother as she hurried over to the counter to collect her pile of waffles which were still warm and proceeded to put an ample helping of cream on top, on the sides, and more on top. Rook always whipped his own cream, and he always added extra flavor to it. Couldn’t hurt to relish as much as possible right?

“All that sugar is gonna kill you someday Rowen.” Charlie said with a smile, “Mind bringin me a little extra?”

“Get your own damned cream, I’m hungry.” She came over and plopped down in one of the chairs, forgetting for a moment that any one of them could be a pile of sticks disguised as such. Hers groaned ominously for a moment, and then unexpectedly, held together.

While she was otherwise preoccupied with the anticipation of falling flat on her bum, Charlie took the opportunity to steal some of her excess cream for his own.

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