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[h3]Aventon — The Fields[/h3]
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Rayne gave a sigh of relief once she’d helped the last of the farm hands get up and on their feet, wiping her brow clear of the sweat she’d built up flying around doing damage control for Fran’s reckless if ultimately, and one might say miraculously, effective cowgirl escapade. Not that it was over, of course, but none of the animals looked to be going anywhere in a hurry, all of them having been conked out just like the cows.

Rayne, naturally, set about helping out. It was while she was doing this, a chicken under each arm, that she happened to float by Fran and paused for a quiet word. 

“So, um, I know things worked out, but they were a bit. Well. Chaotic, and I’d really appreciate a warning next time? An idea of the plan?” she asked, trying to be polite even though it really had to be said. The issue was that, well, it seemed that doing so would be tricky for Fran, so she decided that it’d be best to prove that issue, because at this point she was pretty sure it was going to be a permanent one “or as much as you can manage of one? I, um, hope this isn’t touching on a sore spot but the whole, not talking much thing. Can you explain what the deal with that is? Or does the deal stop you from explaining it well? I don’t suppose you can write, or draw or sign language or something to get around it?” 

Rayne looked rather sheepish throughout all of this, aware that she could very well be coming off as rude or annoying, asking questions Fran had doubtless have had hundreds of times. Despite this she insisted on pressing forwards regardless because if they were going to be in situations more risky than just herding animals, she really wanted to know where they stood regarding communication.