05-24-2020, 01:01 AM
Mairead held back a laugh, an odd feeling for her as there was usually nothing to feel humor at in her life as a huntress, and offered both her hands to the Inspector to help him up- clearly, he needed the aid. Prepared for him to vomit- she'd seen plenty of hungover merchants struggling to keep their bile down her in days of trading, especially in the more rural Scotland towns -she nudged the empty chamber pot beside the bed towards him in case he felt the need to puke.
"Ah am nae one te tarry in the early morn, Inspector, especially when me father be missin'. If ye need a bucket o'water er somethin', ah'd be glad te fetch it fer ye, jes' don't go hurlin' up on me shoes. True bearskin, they are, made by me Da 'imself, and ah'm mighty attached to 'em."
"Ah am nae one te tarry in the early morn, Inspector, especially when me father be missin'. If ye need a bucket o'water er somethin', ah'd be glad te fetch it fer ye, jes' don't go hurlin' up on me shoes. True bearskin, they are, made by me Da 'imself, and ah'm mighty attached to 'em."
