"Because the sea is pretty and not all of us are brave enough to ride her waves or swim her shores. We can only stare at her from open windows," Theo waxed poetically back. He stamped his feet at the entrance to the kitchen and wisely dodged Aneisha's attempt to pounce on him.

Fletcher's cough still seemed to linger and it was beginning to worry him. It was possible the cold air was just a shock to his system but Theo wondered if the man was hiding he had a cold for one reason or another. He made a mental note to add cough-easing tonic to his list of upcoming purchase requests. In his mind at least one of them could be comfortable.

He hardly noticed when Fletcher passed by and went into his own room. And when he did realize he thought little of it given the man's earlier struggle with keeping composure. Theo instead got himself changed and ready for dinner as was expected of him and took to sitting by the dwindling fire while he waited to be summoned.

"Already one," he muttered. "It's done wonders for my condition, though, I'll say that much." With a nod to Dewey and a parting glance at Aya, Fletch followed Theo out of the stable and back into the brisk breeze. "Why even live here?" he grumbled. "Horrid." Coughing into his sleeve and staving the chill off with the dregs of his lukewarm coffee, he stomped along until they reached the servant's entrance once again, where he deposited his empty mug and dodged a whack to the head from Kenna for his thievery. Then it was time to go back up again.

The cold had sobered him, and Dewey had sobered him even more. It was good that they'd accomplished what they'd set out to do. Still, there was a pit in his stomach at how he and Dewey had butted heads. In his want to protect another sister, he'd been too harsh on the young man. The man had held his own, but it wasn't an excuse on Fletcher's part to insinuate a threat to him. He sighed as he passed Theo's door by in favor of his own, deep in thought and shaking his head at his own behavior.

Theo scowled at the mention of going in but dragged himself to his feet all the same. "I wish winters weren't so long. I miss riding in the field in spring."

"You'd have an easier time riding if you weren't fattening all the horses up with sugar cubes, Mr. Theodore," Dewey piped up without missing a beat.

The nobleman looked quite embarrassed as he relinquished what was left of the sugar into the other man's waiting hand. "For what it's worth Dewey, she also has choice taken from her when she is kept from knowing it existed in the first place. Just food for thought.

"Let's go Mr. Daw. You look about ready to turn into an icicle." 

Fletcher sighed and rolled his eye as Dewey went about his work like he suddenly wasn't worth the bother. He stole a glance at Theo — something he'd been avoiding in Dewey's presence. "Just some fresh air. Should probably be heading in, though, ey? So there's time to wash up before dinner."

"She is listened to. That is the difference." Dewey broke Fletcher's gaze now that the worst was over and moved to collect the feed bucket. 

"It sounds to me Aneisha is lucky to have you then, Mr. Jack. Was there anything you were needing in here, sirs?"

Fletch stood, one hand on his hip and the other holding the mug, and stared in silence for a few seconds after Dewey had finished. Then, with a loud, rude snort, a genuine laugh burst from him. "No wonder the dog listens to you," he grinned, taking another sip. "I like you, Dewey. You're a good one. Tell you what. I make her cry, you get a free shot to break my nose. Because that's the last thing I want to do to Neish, mate, and I think you know it perfectly well. I'm not coming in here to control her. I'm seeing that she isn't taken advantage of the way I seen with my sisters. Alright?"

For all of his gentle, quiet nature Dewey surprisingly held his ground against Fletcher's more feral display. There was a reason this quiet young man was master of the stables despite his age and seeming lack of experience: he knew how to handle every matter of beast with utmost respect and caution. Fletcher was no different. He was not about to back down to the other man's threat display. 

"She is not my queen so your words are an ill-placed posturing. While it would be my honor to worship on bender knee for I am no king and could never cage her spirit, Aneisha clearly has no interest in me. If there is a lucky man, I assure you it is not me. I have not seen her today and am not the cause of her smiles. See though that you are not in turn the cause of her tears Mr. Jack."

Fletch tilted his head in the slightest challenge. When he spoke, he was quiet, and his voice had gone silken. "Oh, absolutely," he said. "Her decisions are her own. I'm just here to see that whoever it is, he treats her like a queen. Because if he doesn't...well." He shrugged. Took his time with another sip of coffee. Smiled the sort of smile that sent chills. "Then it is my business."

Theo opened his eyes a moment later and was equally surprised to see Fletcher telling Dewey off. He ducked his head in amusement, knowing very well why poor Dewey was interested in Aneisha's love life while also feeling bad for being the one to bring it to his attention.

"...nothing," Dewey replied. "If she is happy and safe then it is none of my business. Her choices are her own and should be hers alone." He looked to Fletcher pointedly as if daring the older man to interfere. 

Morthil shot the lady a withering glare when he heard her giggle.

"You think she's attached?" He grumbled quite ticked off, his tail now moving agitatedly from side to side.

But his annoyance slowly faded when he heard what the girl had done to get here.
"She almost died—SHE CARRIED ME ALL THE WAY HERE?!"
He managed to turn his head enough to gaze at the sleeping goblin which was currently holding him captive.

"How long has she been, well...like this?" Morthil asked softly, turning inquiringly to look at Lin.
"No way. I don't believe it. I slept for three days?!" He believed that she did.
From what Lin said, the girl almost killed herself just walking here. 
If it's been three days...maybe...Morthil tried to shift again. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Was he stuck as a cat now, forever—his thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of the goblin moving alittle, and then feeling teeth sink into his neck. Not deep, but enough that he could feel it.
"Oh HELL NO!" Morthil yelled, half out of shock and half out of indignation. The goblin just flat out bit him! 
"Nuh uh, I'm not about to let myself get eaten by a goblin that's SLEEPING!"
Lin managed to pry the goblin's teeth off of him. 
Morthil was staring daggers at Lin.
"Is this a normal thing? She compulsively eats in her sleep?! And why was she trying to eat ME?!"
His tail whacked the goblin hard, out of protest. 
He had stopped trying to get out of the goblin's grasp, and now, with much exasperation and resignation, just laid there, nerves ready to snap and the exasperation evident on his feline face.
"So...." Morthil, after much contemplation, asked. 
"How long is she going to sleep for?"
His eyes drifted to the food.
His stomach growled. He himself hadn't eaten in at least 4 days.