a selkie tale – part 6

When she emerged, Fenella strode into the living area of the house and stood next to Bridget. “Can I help with s-supper at all?” She had been struggling to remember their vocabulary.

“No no, dear. You have a seat at the table and I’ll bring ye something.” Before long, broth, bread, and cheese were placed before her. Fenella gazed over the food, not sure what all the strange things were. “Have you not eaten this food before?”

“I’ve eaten mostly fish, actually. But this smells delightful. Thank you kindly, Bridget.” Fenella smiled and squeezed her hand. Bridget’s face warmed with pride.

The door opened, then, and two men walked in, their feet landing heavy on the wooden floor. Each time they stepped it was as if the whole house shook slightly. “Oh, Fenella!” a familiar voice called. She turned around to see the boy from earlier. This time, though, she could see his face; and she was taken away by his big, green eyes and unkept, brown hair. “You look much healthier now. We were afraid you would be ill this evening.”

It took a moment for Fenella to respond, because she seemed to have a magnetic attraction to his eyes. “Thank you, Oliver,” she replied. “Bridget has been most kind. I feel much safer here.” He sat next to her at the table and the lady of the house put two more bowls down for the men. The broth warmed Fenella’s whole body, down to her brand new toes. The cheese was more tart than she assumed, but it went very well with the soft inside of the bread. The outside was much too hard, and Fenella found herself ripping it apart and struggling to bite through the hard crust. Oliver nudged her with his elbow and showed her how to dip her bread into the broth. She grinned as if he’d shown her a magic trick and quickly gobbled up the rest of her food.

“While I clean up, why don’t you show our guest around our small town, Oliver,” Bridget said. She bore a slight grin and started picking up their dishes.

“Um… I suppose so. Would you like to go on a walk, Fenella?” he asked. His eyes shifted above her head. She could tell he was anxious.

“Are you scared to go outside?” she asked quietly. Bridget’s husband boomed with laughter, and Oliver’s face grew red.

“O-Of course not!” He stood and opened the door for her to follow while staring at the ground in embarrassment.

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The crafty creator, imaginative writer, emotional musician, unconditional lover, ever-studious college grad, and optimistic friend behind 'my curious monde!' My Cajun background influences a lot of my love for the French language, hence "Monde" (World). The beauty of nature and the beauty in people inspire my writing. Every day holds a new adventure; keep those pretty eyes open!

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