The evening was a hazy one. Perhaps the alcohol really had gotten to Corinne's head. She wasn't an avid drinker, so knowing her limits would have been...an interesting question to pose to the elf who somehow found herself in her bed the next morning, dishevelled and surprisingly well rested, though still half-asleep as morning's light crept in through the windows of her room in her uncle's house and she groaned into the pillow and turned over.
Half an hour passed before she managed to wake herself up again, and get a proper look of herself.
Good gods in heaven above...
She cleaned herself up, showered for just a little under forty-five glorious minutes of cleansing her soul as well as her mind and body of the after-effects of last night, and trying to recollect thought.
Trafalgar had taken her home. Thank goodness. She might just have been incoherent enough to make it there herself. Her house was close to Elric's though. Closer than Shork's, which could have served an alternative. She had no idea where he was though.
...if he did anything as similar to hiding the keys to the front door under a mound of dirt outside the comfortable shack, she'd be damned.
Morning went by with another little list of tasks. She was to fetch her uncle, and check the commission list for hunted meats or goods the people of Estermere had requested of her, find Shork, pair up with Shork, and go out and get them, then sell them, then split the money.
She wobbled a little when she made her way down the stairs, and she wondered just how she managed to throw herself up them the night before, to be greeted by a worried neigh, followed by a relieved whinny from the little makeshift stable her uncle had built when she was littler. It only had about three stalls, though one of them had a particular stallion gazing intently in her direction. She ducked back into the house and snagged a green apple from the kitchen before making her way outside again. The light caught on the hood she wore, though she'd swapped the blouse and breeches for another pair, a delicate mint string-shirt atop dark breeches now with the chestnut boots in check. She'd do the washing the day after, since it was one of the days where she was scheduled to wash, anyway. And on those days, hunting was left primarily to Shork, and she'd spend time at home finishing off chores, or spending whatever little time she could with her uncle, if he hadn't used his free-time to resort and retreat back to his liquor stores.
The front door was locked and double-checked. She'd be damned if those...things came.
She knew their names, but they were still so horribly foreign to her. She'd hardly seen any in her life.
Little did she know a whole pack existed under her nose. Right there in lovely Estermere.
Regardless, those thoughts were pushed to the side, and the stall door swung open, and her using the handy dagger at her hip to cut through the apple, offering one half to the horse who greedily snatched it from her palm, and biting into the other half herself. Breakfast was usually on the fly. Lunch was her favourite meal. Dinner, she usually spent at a very quiet table with her uncle.
Saddling up the stallion after a quick currying session was no trouble at all, and he gleamed as gorgeous a red as he did on any day and in any light as she pulled herself up and on top of him, and trotted off the soft, earthy surrounding land near the quaint house her uncle owned, and onto cobblestone paths again to make her way to the Hippogriff, or what was left of it. She was convinced she'd find Uncle Seb on the way there.
...and she did, but not very far from the location at all. In the time she'd taken to get up, dressed, complete basic chores and checks, curry the horse and get going, he'd gotten up, stretched, assessed the situation, and now looked at her with those easygoing deep grey eyes.
They were the same as her mother's. There was an amazing intensity about them. She'd gotten her father's hazel ones, with flecks of greys and greens from her mother's side. Nothing less, but sometimes she did find herself a little envious.
He reminded her so much of her mother, with his human father and her elven one being such contrasts, it was hard to tell they were half-siblings at all.
The half-elf's human side shone through. His stubble only just started to manifest itself, a deep brown like the messy scruff of hair that started to grow again, creeping down the nape of his neck.
"Uncle, you..."
"I know, Corinne."
"...but it is not right, in any way, for you to be inebriated like that. It...I was worried about you."
"I'm here, aren't I, little Corinne?" he gave her a lazy smirk. He was a terribly charming man, and she couldn't deny it. It's why she let him off the hook time and again.
"...you are. The tavern is a mess."
"I know. What happened last night? I don't remember...it's all very hazy."
"There was an attack by some rabid dog-like creatures."
"Gnolls."
"...is that what they're called again?"
"You've seen them before."
"No...no I haven't". Corinne thought back. Maybe...maybe she had.
"I know you have. We coexist. Come, let's go home."
And he took one of the elf's hands and gave it a squeeze, before proceeding to walk the cobblestone path again, back to their little house. The elf followed with a relieved sigh. At least Uncle Sebastian was okay.
...at least he was okay.
Though something rather curious played on the elf's mind as they made their way back slowly...
And Corinne was half in the mind to stop and ask a certain blacksmith's son about a certain rumour about a certain ring she remembered having heard, that day...
