The Non-Human Society

Chapter Twelve - Vim - To Study And Shop

      "Lughes is always so scatter brained! How could he forget he had family coming over?" the plump woman giggled, telling me that she was far used to Lughes. Probably too used to him.

I'd have to remind Crane to keep an eye on this relationship. Lughes, like most of our kind, always forgets that humans aged far quicker, and if this middle-aged woman eventually grew older and started to question why that scatter-brained forgetful old man was still alive and kicking, issues might arise.

"We actually have a few hams; I just cleaned and cut them this morning. Would you like those instead?" the woman asked, jubilant. Too happy, in fact.

"Sure, we'll take them," I said. I wasn't going to actually scour the city for a turkey. It'd take me all day, and chances were I'd not actually find one.

"I'll go have the boys prepare them for you," she waved happily as she retreated to the back of the shop. After a few moments, I heard her loud voice as she barked an order. Judging by the way she was yelling, those boys weren't any common boys. They were sons.

"She's a nice lady."

Shifting a little, I glanced to the woman who was smiling gently at the scene before her. Or rather, the loud conversation we could hear but not see.

Studying her for a moment, I found my eyes wander to her pants. They were old. Worn. Weathered.

Even for our kind, who sometimes paid no attention to their attires, they were too broken down.

Probably all she owned.

Yet it wasn't their wear that bothered me. It was the design.

Those little loops near her ankles, half covered by the snow stuck to her, were a familiar design. I even remembered the one who created it. I remembered that little church, and the young family who had spent days designing those emblems.

It wasn't a bad design. It wasn't out of place. It didn't tell others she was a slave, or a noble, or anything odd like that...

Looking away just as she turned to look at me, I knew she had felt my stare. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed over it, but I wasn't in the mood to have to tell her why I was glaring at her.

At least not yet.

After all it wasn't necessarily her fault. Especially if she wasn't very old.

"Honey, would you like some bacon too?" the larger woman popped out from behind a curtain, smiling as she asked the question.

A good salesman, if anything. The woman next to me went a little stiff, and I knew it was because she had envisioned eating them.

"Sure. Got a few pounds?" I asked her.

"That we do! I'll bundle it all up with it," the woman happily retreated back into the shop.

I sighed, and did my best to ignore the happy smile on the woman next to me. She was not only glad I had bought some bacon, but seemed to actually enjoy the woman's happy demeanor.

So odd sometimes.

"Amber said this family has been running this shop for generations," the woman said gently. A little softly, as if to not be heard by the ones behind the wall, in the back.

"Most likely. People usually take over their parents positions when able," I said.

"It's nice. Makes me wonder what we'd be like, if we could do the same," she whispered.

Running my eyes along the counter in front of us, I was half tempted to lean on as if I was tired. I wasn't tired. At all. But felt like I should be.

I always felt as if I should be exhausted. Yet was I even capable of getting so anymore? When was the last time I was out of breath, or actually weary?