Blaminster in Winter | Dominick & Danyl
The days were growing shorter, already, as if things were not bleak enough in Blaminster, already. Dominick noted the dark clouds scuffing by overhead without judgment, however, merely accepting it as a fact of life. The north was the only home he’d ever known and in truth, he considered any trip more than fortnight away a long trek, indeed. It was, after all, the furthest away he’d ever been.
Trudging through the snow as he always did, his tools in a sack slung over his back, he moved towards Soarhall where he was constructing a scaffold for Rowlin’s coming of age ceremony (a day of which the entire north stood in dread). It did not take Dominick terribly long to clear his path, accustomed as he was to the entire ordeal. Familiar faces coursed in and out of the great manse about their work and Dominick smiled to a few as they passed.
Coming through the servant’s entrance, Dominick inhaled the sensuous scent of Tom’s cooking, his lips looping into a smile as he ducked into the room and gently let his sack of tools onto the floor. Glancing around the room, he didn’t see Tom or Isolde, a fact that took him by surprise, but quickly spotted Danyl and instantly shook his head, a smirk touching his features.
“What? Did you run everyone else out of here?” he teased. “Alternately,” he added, glancing dubiously towards the stew. “Did...? You didn’t cook this, did you? It smells delicious, but I’m in no mood to be poisoned,” he joked, grinning brightly.












