Well, that exasperated sigh of his was just charming, wasn’t it? If Mattie hadn’t been amused, she might have been offended – but in spite of his exasperation, his sigh seemed to be an avowal of defeat. And Mattie could work with that.
His dog went to heel, quick on his whistle; Mattie tilted her head, eyes narrowing a little as he turned his back on her, but she strode forwards anyway, determined to keep in step with him no matter how long his legs were or how stubbornly he wanted to be gone from the festivities. If anyone cared to notice, they might wonder where they were going – and that, Mattie could scarcely answer; she was content to let him lead where they walked, so long as she got to please herself at the same time – but, on the other hand, at least Orpington was more of a society name than most people here. If she had an escort anywhere in the Glen, this Mr. Orpington would do quite as well as anyone.
(She thought his profession was a little unglamorous for someone from a comfortable family, so she had to wonder what had drawn him here. Well, dragonkeeping, presumably... but why?)
They had walked for a few moments already, and he had said nothing else. Mattie let the silence settle for a while, just to prove that she could, that she was in no hurry, and would not tire so fast of his reticence. (He could not be so bad as the Head Dragonkeeper that her father had complained of often; apparently, according to Mr. Farris, no one could be as bad as that.) “So,” Mattie declared inquisitively, tucking a loosening strand of hair back behind her ear in the breeze, “What made you decide to work here? Or,” she added innocently (mischievously), “are dragons just particularly drawn to the strong and silent type?”
See, she was all just academic curiosity here.
His dog went to heel, quick on his whistle; Mattie tilted her head, eyes narrowing a little as he turned his back on her, but she strode forwards anyway, determined to keep in step with him no matter how long his legs were or how stubbornly he wanted to be gone from the festivities. If anyone cared to notice, they might wonder where they were going – and that, Mattie could scarcely answer; she was content to let him lead where they walked, so long as she got to please herself at the same time – but, on the other hand, at least Orpington was more of a society name than most people here. If she had an escort anywhere in the Glen, this Mr. Orpington would do quite as well as anyone.
(She thought his profession was a little unglamorous for someone from a comfortable family, so she had to wonder what had drawn him here. Well, dragonkeeping, presumably... but why?)
They had walked for a few moments already, and he had said nothing else. Mattie let the silence settle for a while, just to prove that she could, that she was in no hurry, and would not tire so fast of his reticence. (He could not be so bad as the Head Dragonkeeper that her father had complained of often; apparently, according to Mr. Farris, no one could be as bad as that.) “So,” Mattie declared inquisitively, tucking a loosening strand of hair back behind her ear in the breeze, “What made you decide to work here? Or,” she added innocently (mischievously), “are dragons just particularly drawn to the strong and silent type?”
See, she was all just academic curiosity here.
