|
Cook stood, hands on hips, and gave the Elf sitting so mournful looking on the bed a once-over look. “Well for one thing, you can get up and wash your face a bit, tidy your hair so it doesn’t look so wild, and put on a fresh tunic. She turned about while he accomplished these tasks she’d set him.
‘Now my old Gammer always said that if you don’t feel happy inside, your our outside shows it, too. And it goes both ways.’ She looked up at him as he towered over her, his brow furrowed. ‘Smooth out your brow and put a smile on those grim held lips.’
‘No . . . a bit bigger, I think. And let’s see just a bit of teeth. So as you don’t look like someone grimacing as he holds back the contents of a sour stomach!’
She led the Elf downstairs, instructing him that they would find his sister and see to getting things smoothed over. ‘And no grumbling under your breath, laddie! We are going to be pleasant and speak lightly.’ She glanced back over her shoulder at him as she made her way down the stairs. ‘Come along now!’
|