Bethberry crouched down at the window at the contatenation of sound and curses and disturbance that followed--or proceeded--the errent peddlar. Once he was safely down the road, she rose and turned to the door, catching sight of the wee mousie.
"Was it you we have to thank, for ridding us of the unneighourly peddlar, Wee Mousie?" She hadn't talked to a mouse in quite some time, but didn't think that would ruin the conversation. Any language could always use practice.
The mouse looked up at her, swishing its tail, as if to say, "Well who else do you think?" Then swiftly it ran off, back into the Star, and Bethberry followed.
I thought I had heard some Ents asking for rain, she mused to herself. And wondered if she had any of Mum's old talents in her to comply.
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