Most of the keepers from Avalon Glen had come to this, and Howell, stickler about the work though he was, for once hadn’t stayed behind to do a circuit of the reserve as he might have preferred. There was enough to be entertained by here without much having to talk to anyone, anyway – he had silently browsed the Plunketts’ yarn and wool stall for some time, and bundled up a sack of new purchases over his shoulder, a little pleased with himself.
After that, he had sidled slowly around the other booths, looking vaguely for Honeyduke’s. He already had a warm cider to hand, but he liked Honeyduke, so – well, it was here, but before he could see what Honeyduke had on sale, his eyes had been drawn unwillingly by a blond woman making some sort of a scene about something. Not that she seemed angry – she seemed delighted – but Howell couldn’t work out who she was talking to, and her reaction seemed so wildly effusive that he just stared, awkwardly side-eyeing her with his brows knitted. Was there something in the drink?
After that, he had sidled slowly around the other booths, looking vaguely for Honeyduke’s. He already had a warm cider to hand, but he liked Honeyduke, so – well, it was here, but before he could see what Honeyduke had on sale, his eyes had been drawn unwillingly by a blond woman making some sort of a scene about something. Not that she seemed angry – she seemed delighted – but Howell couldn’t work out who she was talking to, and her reaction seemed so wildly effusive that he just stared, awkwardly side-eyeing her with his brows knitted. Was there something in the drink?
