02.20.09 - Dance Contest

Location: Brewer's Village

Characters Involved: Harper, Darcy, Sivaine, Magramba

"/Tonight?/ But that doesn't give us any time to practice!" "Well you're lucky, Margot, you beau already /likes/ to dance." "My best dress still has the wrinkles in!" "What did they say the prize was?" "That Serena Bensen better not flirt with the judges like last year!" There's a gaggle of chattering girls of various species gathered under a banner strung between two gables, taking up a major part of the street, which Sivaine eyes with well-practiced distrust and makes as much of a detour around as she can, but with an ear tuned to their chatter and a curious tilt to her head. Other banners are present, fluttering in the breeze - well-washed and a few in need of re-dying. 'Dance Contest Tonight!' they proclaim, and at the end of the road in the town square a stage is being set up, much to the interest of several dibbuns.

Darcy wanders down along the street. Her first reaction to the big sign is a grin, ears up, happy, eager, before the expression becomes subdued. Oh yes that's right. No partner! So her smile is kind of 'meh' as she looks it over, hands tucking in her pockets, ears angled backward. At least it's not raining now, right? She finds Siv - the street's not all that crowded - and crosses over to her. "Well this'll be fun to watch.."

Magramba steps out onto the street, a ghost of a grin playing across his features as he waves to those inside the house he's leaving. Once the door is closed, the squirrel glances up and down the street, noticing first the banners, and takes a step away. Then he sees two of his traveling companions, and takes an uncertain step in that direction.

Sivaine gives Darcy a funny look, one brow raised. "Watch? Have you been drinking flat beer, or did Darcy Emerson, queen of the shrew jig, just say she was going to /watch?/"

Harper stands, staring up at a banner. "... I could break my leg. No. No. Need the legs... I could stab myself in the eye! No. I could still dance... I'm sick! No I'm not and she's a /healer/... I could... could..." He searches hopelessly, and then mutters, hanging his head. "I could shrivel up 'n' die, now."

Darcy lifts her brows, and smirks. "Okay as /tempted/ as I am. Harp wouldn't want to. And unless I can find the shrew from yesterday I don't figure I'll have an easy time with a partner. No one /good/ anyway." She shrugs, hands in her pockets, glancing up at the banner and then over. Oh there he is. "Hey," she calls across to Harper, lifting one hand, in a sort of half-hearted wave-thing.

"You could ask Magramba," Sivaine suggests, nodding to the squirrel as he approaches. "Or you could dance with the cushion." She quirks a brow at Harper with a rather direct look. Hmm?

"Oh that'd be a sight. Dance with the cushion, heh." Oh she loves the cushion, she does. Darcy shakes her head. "It's fine. I'm ..." Pause. She's not used to coming up with excuses. So, there's another shrug. "It's fine. Whatever. "

Harper's ears twitch. Not just a normal 'oh I hear a voice' twitch. A /twitch/. He turns, looking around. Oh hi guys. He rather woodenly approaches. "... Hey," he greets them warily. The banners are screaming at him. But maybe she hasn't noticed! Big smile.

Darcy shoots Harper a smile and hooks her thumb over at the big banner. "That's going to be fun, huh? I'll have to find us a good vantage point. Thing. Heh." She just drips with disappointment doesn't she.

Magramba falls in behind Harper as he arrives, glancing with some apprehension up at the banners. A paw rests silently on the buck's shoulder. Together, we can endure.

The solidarity. It is poignant. Harper reaches up, pats Mag's paw. Takes a step forward. "... Darcy, would you dance with me? In the competition?"

"So you have a choice about what to do here, you realize," Sivaine remarks to Harper in a dry tone with an amused curl to her mouth, though her eyes carry a hint of sympathy. She's not /completely/ heartless. Come on. She jerks a thumb backward at Darcy. And.. thins her lips. To hide an expression. Her eyes dart between the two, then to Magramba. Hey, she's just standing here, how 'bout you?

Darcy sort of drifts a few steps off, halfway turned, looking toward the stage with a thoughtful expression. Her ears quirk, one a little higher than the other, and her gaze skirts back around to Harper. "... I thought this 'isn't your thing'?"

Magramba's sigh is audible as Harper steps forward and his paw slips away. That is /not/ what it meant. The paw was not saying, "Step up and be a man, you spineless buffoon! DANCE!" It was saying, "If you don't want to dance, you don't have to. I'm not."

Sivaine crosses her arms over her stomach and leans back on one foot to watch this interaction, which qualifies for a dance in itself. It'll take enough fancy footwork. "..you know, I'm not sure who I feel sorry for."

"I also said the dancing was one thing I could fix," Harper replies quietly. Smiles. Shrugs. "It's up t'you, Darce. But I've never heard of a little dancin' killin' anyone. I think I'll survive."

"Just because you've never heard it doesn't mean it hasn't happened." Magramba utters this sage advice as he scoots around Harper, angling to get behind Siv. Protection!

Darcy's jaw shifts side to side, and she considers him. "Okay. Okay, yeah. Let's do it." Suddenly her expression brightens, muzzle tugging into a broad smile. And she cuffs her knuckles lightly against his upper arm. "And you have to actually put in some /effort/, okay mister? Not like the game earlier." Her gaze flicks to Mag and Siv. Grinny again.

"Clearly he's never heard of the little red shoes," Sivaine mutters sotto voce to Magramba. The wild pregnant beast makes an effective shield, and while she grins back slightly, the look she gives Harper is a mix of interested amusement and 'better you than me.'

"I promise," Harper says quietly. Shakes his head - and looks at the other two! He's taking you down with him, guys. "I hear it takes two for dancin'. You two in?"

"Not to mention the dormouse who danced until his little heart burst like an overbaked cherry turnover." Magramba is hoping that standing with a pregnant mouse will keep the ladies back. Until Harper extends an invitation. "/What./"

Sivaine's brows lift. Oh no you don't. "There's one creature I dance with, and he isn't here."

Magramba points with a thumb at the mouse. "Me too."

Sivaine glances back. "Yours is a he?"

Magramba says, "Well, it's not a he. But the only one thing applies."

Harper snorts. "We won't tell you if you don't. Righ', Darce?"

Ah, clarification. Sivaine nods and looks back to the hares, arms still crossed. "It's not polite to use your friends as diversions, Harper."

Darcy's expression very quickly turns wicked. "Oh, don't even try. You two had /better/ pair up or.. or. I'll come up with a /really/ good threat, okay." She flicks a look at Harper. This is getting better and better.

Magramba crosses his arms. Crossly. "I don't dance."

"Hey. Siv. I made a /choice/. I'm choosing 'fun' tonight. What choice are /you/ going t'make? Hm? Hm?" Harper's eyebrows are up. He's not laughing. Honestly.

"I don't-" Sivaine's whiskers twitch. "What he said. No offense."

"You both just said there's one beast you both dance with. So which is it? You dance or you don't?" His eyebrows go up a liiiittle bit more.

Darcy snorts! "/See/. Finally you've come over to my side," Darcy aims at Harper. She is just beaming. "Siv. Mag. Come /on/. It'll be brilliant."

"I didn't say I /can't/ dance." Magramba eyes shift to Siv. Help. "I said I don't."

"Oh. Well. Put like that.." Sivaine considers Harper thoughtfully, brows raised and eyelids half-lowered. "I'll have my fun seeing Darcy gets a properly dressed dance partner." Grin. Sharklike.

Darcy blinks suddenly, and her ears shoot up. "Oh my bloody /mother/ I need something to /wear/!"

"Yes, you do. A dress. Swishy, for preference, with a full skirt, in a good color," Sivaine nods, listing things off with surprising ease.

"Which I s'pose you'll also be wearing," Harper prompts. And his eyes slide to Magramba. So much for male solidarity. He gives a very small shrug. Grins.

"Abso/lute/ly swishy. Swishy swishy skirt thing, oh man, I haven't done this in /ages/." Darcy is distracted, taking a few steps, looking around. Her fingers fret a little against the edges of her sleeve, fingers flexing and then curling toward her palms. "How much time do we have?"

Sivaine's ears flick; she glances at the knot of giggling girls, which has mostly dispersed, then up at the sky. "I was hearing sunset. And it's.. hunh. Well I would hurry. Every girl in town probably has the same idea."

Magramba points at Harper, eyes narrowing. /You./ Then, a thought alights in his head, and his mouth curls into a devious grin. "/You/ need something to wear too, Harp."

Sivaine glances at Magramba. "Shall we?" she suggests.

Harper just smiles mildly back. He comes forward, clapping Mag on the shoulder. "So do you. Let's go find somethin', all right?"

Darcy turns back around, and points right at Harper. "Siv. Mag. You ... have to make him pretty. I mean it." What a nice choice of words, Darce.

Magramba uhh's and glances at Siv. He eyes her, then shifts his eyes toward Darcy. "You take her, I've got this..." he murmurs.

Sivaine shakes her head firmly. "Oh no. I'm not leaving you alone with him." She quirks a warning brow at the squirrel. Solidarity! Divided they fall. "Anyway you need a female opinion." Hers will have to do. She steps toward Harper, with a little nod at Magramba, and reaches for one arm.

Harper allows his arm to be taken. He is a willing hostage! He looks towards Darcy, looking mildly amused.

Darcy's ears flicker. "Right. You sort yourself out. I'm on a quest!" She flashes Harper a grin! And heads off across the street.

"Like I don't know what looks good. C'mon, Harp, I won't let Sivaine dress you weird." Magramba slings an arm around the buck's shoulder.

Harper glances over his shoulder to make sure there's no blade in that paw. Reassured, he grins. "Thanks, Mag. I appreciate that."

---

Evening has fallen, and the square is transformed. The stage, complete, dominates the center, and the area is illuminated by lantern light. Streamers festoon the trees, and a band is tuning up off to the side. There's a gathering crowd of spectators as well as waiting couples in various combinations and levels of excitement; some males were obviously dragged, others are slicking their hair back with combs last-minute.

Somewhere off to the side Darcy paces back and forth, on edge. She's in a dress: narrow straps over her shoulders, snug-fitting until the hips where it flares out in overlapping ruffles of fabric to about her knees. Black, edged with red, and her short hair is combed down and orderly, with a beaded clip keeping the bangs in place, angled to one side. Her arms cross and she leans against the pole of a street lamp, looking kind of disgruntled and scowly.

Disgruntled and scowly because Harper is /late/. He's cutting it /really/ close. But then there he is, materializing out of the darkness on the other side of the gathering. He is dressed in a dark blue, collared shirt, a black vest, and black trousers. His fur has been brushed, so he no longer looks like a balding yeti. His sandy brown fur is smooth and clean-looking. All sign of dush and wear from their travels are gone. He stands, shifting his weight uncertainly this way and that, scanning the crowd. "Where is she?" he murmurs.

"She'll turn up. Probably when you least expect it." Like Sivaine did, just now, behind and slightly to the left of Harper. Apart from dragging a comb through her hair and wiping the road dust off her fur, she hasn't made many changes to her appearance. At least she's left off the all-enveloping cloak; with the press of bodies, the temperature isn't that bad.

Harper glances to the side at Sivaine, smiling a mite self-consciously. "... No doubt." He sighs.

Music starts up. "Couples! Last chance to take the floor!" One of the judges encourages. And Darcy slumps, sits on her heels. Bummed. This is a good word for how she looks.

Sivaine's ears flicker. She cants her head to the side, giving Harper a look. "Or you will. Go make yourself look conspicuous and willing." She gives him a nudge in the calf with one knee.

Harper did /not/ do all this just for Darcy to /miss/ it... Harper mutters an excuse to Sivaine and walks forward - encouraged just a bit by the nudge - to mount the stage from the front. He approaches a chair, stands on top of it. Scans the crowd. Darcy why are you so /short/.

Made shorter by sitting down. You'd think she'd be easy to spot, right? Firebrand and all? Hah. Darcy rubs at her face and the scowl deepens. She looks up, at the stage, and. A glimpse. But that's not /Harper/. Harper's all molty and funny-looking. Still - she stands up. One hand against the lamppost, and peering.

Harper is standing right in a cast of light. He looks - well let's just say it. He looks dashing. He looks... not at all like a cloistered, soft-spoken Brother in an Abbey somewhere. He looks. Smooth. There's a shadow of fret about his expression, but it just knits his brow ever so slightly. "Darcy..." he murmurs.

Darcy's mouth opens slightly. What. She shoves her hand against someone's hip, goes past, and aims for the stage. Her muzzle is angled up. "Holy." It /is/ him. Wow, Harper.

Well, they made him look pretty something all right. Sivaine finds a convenient tree to lean against as the band gets into tune and couples stream onto the dance floor, expression thoughtful.

Harper finally catches her approach. His eyes, shadowed somewhat by the cast of the light, look down on her. There's a self-conscious blush about his ears, but he is distracted from that by just. Looking at her. After several seconds he extends his paw down to her, to help her up onto the stage. "Hi," he greets. /That's/ Harper.

Darcy reaches up, slips her hand into his. The full skirt swishes and ruffles as she takes the steps upward, onto the stage. The scowly look is fully replaced with a smile - eager, also impressed. "Hey." Nothing like monosyllables to heighten the tension, right?

"... Hey," he repeats. His eyes are dark and watchful. "You look..." His head shakes and he finds no words. He slips his free arm about her waist and leans forward. He kisses her on the corner of her mouth. Leans back.

"Silly? I /feel/ .." Oh okay. Her eyes shut most of the way. Silence from the doe, and then, "Harp? Let's just. Not humiliate ourselves." Her voice is low.

Harper shakes his head. Silent for a moment. He's just. Full of looking at her. "... We won't," he eventually promises.

"Better not," she mutters, muzzle ducked down a few notches. She sets her hand on his arm, tugs. "You know there's a /reason/ we're all dressed up. Come on." Because otherwise he's at risk for just standing there all night.

Harper is, that. But he follows, agreeing to the tug. They are heading for the dance floor, Harper's eyes now torn away from Darcy to scan the rest of the 'competition'. Huh.

Darcy weaves a little through the other couples and finds them a spot with enough room, then turns, her skirts swishing, to face the buck again. "Relax," she tells him. "... you're leading. Harp? Relax."

"I'm relaxed," Harper objects... and despite his words stands stock still for a moment. But then the music starts up - and he jerks into motion. He slips his arms around her waist and moves her into the dance... and hey, lookit that, he's not half bad! He smiles, the smile a little wavering, but still there. Hey. Hey there, Darce. Look, I'm doing it.

Darcy steps with him, hands falling to Harper's arms, just above the bend of them. She follows his motions, keeping them near each other, steps in sync while she smirks at him. There, that's not so bad.

"Maybe if we talk out strategy, we c'n just avoid the judges 'n' they won't tap us," Harper jokes, leaning his head forward briefly to whisper this. He dips her backward.

Leaning back, Darcy lifts one foot from the floor, that leg extending a little, back making a slight arch and skirts swishing. Then she leans forward, into Harper, chuckling at him, her hands moving to his shoulders as she recovers from the dipping motion. "Or we can actually be /good/.." There's an idea. A couple next to them is tapped and exits the stage.

"Well if you want t'go the /easy/ route," Harper teases. His eyes shift to the couple next to them, exiting stage left. He picks up the game a little bit. What? No shoulder-tapping needed here!

And the judge wanders by them. A few couples are gone now, there's more space to move, and the music picks up just a /little/. The rhythm switches to something else, and Darcy follows Harper's motions still, fingers curled over the slopes of his shoulders. "So. Mister Sutton," she counters in a bit of a drawl, "where'd you learn to dance?"

"Halyard is a lot like this... at least for festivals," Harper explains. He twirls her out and back in. "Dancing contests were pretty common."

My that dress is swishy. The skirt gets sort of wrapped around her legs as she spins out, then back in, and she grins. "Who'd you partner up with? Your mother?" the doe teases.

Harper smirks. "Mum's an awful dancer," he says with a shake of his head. He looks upward briefly, thinking back with a faint smile. "Halyard's - well. Kind of different than a lot of places. Sure, the adults didn't always get along, but kids were just kids, ya know? My best friend growin' up was this stoat jill - 'Francis'. She'd cock you one if you ever called her that, though. Usually we'd partner off."

Darcy has to tug Harper, just a little, one hand dropping to his forearm. "You can dance and reminisce at the same time, mister," she chuckles, and leans more into him. More couples are picked off. "I remember when I was young my parents would be in these contests together.. even won a few times. Think we'll get a prize maybe, maybe?"

"Well, I never did," Harper muses with a smile. He moves them around the dance floor a bit more spryly, now. "Maybe I've gotten better with age and experience, mm? What do you think?" His arms are soft and light around her.

"Well you have neither stepped on nor dropped me," Darcy points out, "so you're doing something right. Maybe by the time you're the Colonel's age you'll actually be any good." She steps, steps, spins a little again - a sort of half turn that keeps her still in the scoop of one of his arms, before she's tugged back. "... Harp."

"Darce?" He's smiling quietly, turning them 'round and 'round the dance floor. The footwork's really the thing that's maybe keeping them on the dance floor. They move well together.

The footwork, or the chemistry? Either way they're doing well. More couples leave, and Darcy doesn't really notice. Her eyes shut more a moment. "Fun, right?"

Harper's paw comes up. He brushes his fingers over her cheek. "Fun," he agrees.

"Good." Her hand comes up, catchs his. She nips at his fingers and then pulls his hand down to set it on her waist again.

/That/ gets a surprised look... and then a laugh. He shakes his head at Darcy, smiles a small smile. "Is this the same sort of tactic as flirting with folks for drinks?" he queries. He glances at the judges and then back, amused.

Darcy lifts her brows. ".. what, looking gorgeous so the judges don't tap us? Or .. what are you talking about." Her smile is playful and a little coy, even. She's having way to much fun.

"I don't think biting is part of the dance," Harper points out with a smile.

Darcy grins. She leans forward along with some steps and gives a little snapping of her muzzle near his chin. "So speaking of drinks and flirting.."

Harper smirks. "Mm?" he inquires.

"I'll get you something," she promises, sweet as anything, tilting her head to the side. There are four couples left and they are one of them. Whaaat. "After? Flirt and tease my way to a bottle of something, and we'll share it?"

"Why don't you leave that t'me?" Harper muses, pulling her closer. Almost protectively.

Darcy gives a little 'hm' noise. "Yeah but. I don't think you'll get very many guys willing to buy you a drink..."

"I'll manage. Just. /Don't/ flirt with anyone, okay?" He sounds a little exasperated. The buck dips her, then, leeeaning forward. "Not tonight."

Darcy leans back, going to just one foot again, her leg lifted and bent, knee near his hip. ".. ohhkay? Okay. Sure. /If/ you can give me a good reason." She grins. Her hair is loose from the clip, bangs in her eyes.

"Because it will depress me and I will have to do that thing where I brood," Harper says very simply. What? He knows he does it! "And I am having too much fun for that."

She can't help it, she laughs. Darcy shakes her head, leaning back up out of the dip, the momentum bringing her against him. She kisses the corner of his jaw, muzzle angled up to do so. "So when /I/ flirt.. you get depressed and broody. Heh." Why does she look smug.

"Unless it's with me. Then it's okay," Harper confirms. He's not smiling, but there's the sense of a smile

"You know, that is nowhere in the 'doesn't mean anything' contract," Darcy teases him.

And then there's a tap on Harper's shoulder.

Aww. Awwwwww. Harper's ears twitch back and he glances back over his shoulder, looking just a little disappointed. He manages a smile, though. "... Guess we're done." He sounds apologetic, looking back to the doe.

Darcy finishes a swaying step and then stops. She doesn't step back or detach from him, though she leans fractionally to look around. "Huh." Two more couples are now battling it out. "... hey, third! Third isn't bad!"

Harper's ears twitch up. "... Do we /get/ something for that?" He sounds amazed. Shock and awe!

"I don't know!" She grins, pulls him toward the steps. And, and! Someone comes toward them as they descend from the stage, with a white ribbon-necklace thing in each hand. Darcy just /beams/. She detaches from Harper entirely as he has his put over his head.

Harper has to duck his head for the adornment. He's smiling quite a lot, though. He touches the ribbon, looking over at Darcy as hers is put about her neck. "Not bad, Emerson, not bad." He smiles.

Darcy wiggles the tips of her ears at him. "Not bad," she echoes, and lifts her brows at him. "How about that drink, Mister Sutton?"

"I think that's in order. You stay... /here/." And he directs her with paws to her hips, to stand leaning against a lamp post. "I'll be back. You'll stay? Here?"

Darcy tilts her head at him, grins. "I'll stay. But you had /better/ come back."

Harper just smiles. And turns, weaving off into the crowd.

Darcy slips down to sit on her heels, gathering her skirt up with one hand to keep it out of the dirt of the street. She takes a breath, lets it out, and waits for him there, while her heartrate drops back to a normal speed.

When he returns it is not with a bottle, but with two glasses, poured. He walks back over to her, holding the one out to her.

Darcy rises from her crouch and lets the skirts drop, settling around her lets with little vague swishes as her hand comes out. "I've been deprived of a bottle," she pouts at him. "So who'd /you/ flirt with, huh?"

"That'll just have to be my little secret," Harper murmurs. "And I don't think we'll need the bottle. I don't think we'll have a problem getting drinks with the ribbons around our necks."

"Heh. I love brewer's villages," Darcy mutters, and links her arm with his, pulling him away from the group. The other hand lifts her glass. "Toast something."

"To our win," Harper answers, rather predictably. "And to our travels."

"Mmm," she says with a note of disapproval. "Okay. Now /really/ toast. And I mean a good one, mister."

Harper just smiles at her. "Why don't you give me an example of a good toast and I'll model it, then."

Darcy grins. "Empty kisses! That's a great toast right there."

Harper's eyebrows perk. He falls silent, a little meditative.

Darcy lifts her brows also, and her fingers squeeze at the bend of his arm. "Or dresses that fit me. Or .. pasties that /aren't/ drugged. Things that mean something. To us." She nods firmly.

"To hail stones and spiders aaaand... being tied up? I thought that was rather nicely summed up with 'and to our travels'." He smirks.

"Maybe. Yeah, fine. I still think 'empty kisses' takes the cake, though," Darcy mutters. She clinks her glass with his, takes a swallow. "I'm not going to forget /that/ phrase .. ever." She leans into him. They will both be sore from the dancing soon enough.

"It's one I'd like to forget," is Harper's strangely quiet answer.

Darcy sends him a glance. "... let's just say I appreciate this dress's reception more than the last one, okay? Don't go all frowny on me, mister."

"I'm not frowny," he murmurs quietly, just looking at her for the moment.

Darcy's eyes stay on Harper's face, now. "Then what are you."

"I don't know," is his honest answer. He nods to her drink, then. "Drink up."

Darcy tilts her head, brings her glass up for a few more swallows. "Well. Figure it out," she says afterward, licking moisture from her upper lip.

Harper buries his muzzle in his glass, using it as an excuse for his silence.

Darcy tips her muzzle again and finishes the drink. Her hand drops, glass held near her hip, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So?"

"Asking more doesn't make me know any faster," Harper answers with a smile.

Darcy smirks. "Fine. But when you /do/ figure it out.. you'll tell me?" Her muzzle bumps into his bicep

"I will," he agrees.

"Good," the doe says again, and tugs free. She starts off a few steps, hand back, summoning him along. "Is there a bridge in this town?"

Harper's eyebrows quirk. ".. Yes. Why a bridge?"

Darcy glances back, hand still extended toward the buck. "To push you off. No. You'll see. Show me it."

Harper takes her paw. Nods. He turns, leading them away from the dwindling crowd, down the street.

Darcy follows, a sort of swaying walk like the remnants of their dance. They come to the bridge, a little stone arc over a slow stream, and Darcy steps ahead, letting him go. She climbs up onto the raised stone railing on one side, stands on the narrow ledge. "Come up here."

Harper follows after her. He hesitates only briefly before he joins her, standing hip to hip with her, arms just touching. He looks down.

Darcy looks down at the water consideringly. There's some thin ice along the edges. "I have this.. this thing. I have always wanted to be kissed on a bridge."

Harper's paw slips out, his fingers searching and then linking with Darcy's. He squeezes. Just looking down at the quietly trickling stream. He doesn't say anything for a moment.

Darcy brushes her thumb against his palm, head ducked a little, eyes on the moon's reflection down below them.

And then Harper's head turns and he ducks his head, his muzzle bumping into hers and urging it around to meet his lips. His paw slips around the back of her neck.

Darcy's muzzle lifts at the gentle urging, and her eyes nearly close. Her lips brush his.

Harper gently deepens the kiss, letting it lengthen out in time... and then he pulls back, keeping his paw to the back of her neck and just. Looking at her. He arches a single eyebrow, smiles. "... Good?"

"Mm," is her response, eyes still shut for a moment following, then flicking over. "Yes. Good. /Very/." She takes a breath. "... this is ridiculous."

Harper's smile is a little perplexed. "... What's ridiculous?"

"... Well I mean this /trip/ is, so if you meant that, I /totally/ agree," he reasons after a pause.

Darcy gestures a little with one hand, still holding the glass. "Hah. Yes, that. But I mean. ... we're on a bridge. We just.. a /dance/ contest? And. And you.." Heh.

Harper laughs, shaking her head. "Improbable circumstances follow me everywhere, it'd seem."

Darcy tilts her head. "Is that what you'd call this? /This/.." She is feeling the lust for more liquor.

Harper turns, hopping down from the ledge and to the bridge's surface. He turns, offering his arm for a help down. "'This'?"

Darcy stays up, though. She eyes the hand, then gives him a 'turn around' gesture, twirling her finger a little. "This. The dancing and the.. village and. I don't know. It's a little surreal right?"

Harper obediently turns, holding a paw over one shoulder for assistance. The other one waits to hook under a leg, for extra support. "I have never spent a dull moment in this village. It's... well. I /thought/ you'd enjoy it."

Darcy steps to the edge of the stone ledge, and leans over. One hand grasps his, the other on his shoulder, and she hooks one leg around his hip and makes a little bouncing motion, up into a piggy-back position, the skirt fluttering and swishing as she does so. She holds on with her arms around his shoulders and legs hugging Harper's waist. "I do, I /do/ enjoy it. But I mean.. we can go whenever you want Harp. We don't have to wait around here. How far is Sala, a few more days?"

Harper dips his head in a nod. "Just a few more, aye... I've got one more place I'd like us t'stop, 'n' then we're straight for the mountain," Harper explains. He links his paws together at his back, providing something for Darcy to 'sit' on.

"The 'wait and see' place, right?" she mutters, tucking her muzzle against the back of Harper's neck. Darcy's ankles link. "Let's find a pub and put these ribbons to use, yeah? I want to drink and make merry."

Harper chuckles. He shifts her up for a more comfortable hold and then leads them back towards the village. "Always the drink with you, Darce. Tsk-tsk," he teases.

Darcy twists her head a little and bites at one of his ears. "Hey, it isn't /always/ the drink. Just frequently. And you drink me under the table when you actually care to do so. ... so do you care to do so?"

Harper has ducked his head forward to avoid the bite! He seems to be considering it. "... You realize I could drink you under the table by... not getting drunk at /all/, right?"

Darcy rolls her eyes, and her muzzle, upward. "Yes but that would /completely/ spoil my evening. So you /are/ going to get drunk with me. And it'll be grand. Watch out for the puddle, mister."

Which he does, stepping over it. "You won't know any different once yer drunk, anyway." he points out.

Darcy blows at the back of Harper's head, ruffling the hair. "Must you be difficult?"

Harper reaches up, scruffing at the back of his head. "Yes."

Darcy nips the buck's fingers when they come into range. Hah. "Arse. You'll drink your drink or I'll pour it on you."

"That," he grins, "I am okay with." He is such a brat.

"Your /face/, Harp!" she threatens as they reach one of the smaller pubs, nestled between two larger buildings. "Your faaace."

Harper pulls open the door, then ducks his head. "Duck," he orders, leading them into the pub.

Darcy ducks, cheek to the spot between Harper's shoulders. Once they're inside her head lifts again, ears quirked upward. It's a much more subdued place than the big one, with a single bartender. A pair of older beasts play chess and smoke at a corner table, and there are some other scattered patrons as well. "Is this a little bit more your /thing/?" she quips at the Brother.

Harper looks around and his chest swells with a deep breath and an exhaled sigh of relief. "... Yes." He leads them over to the bar and turns, lowering her backward onto a stool.

Darcy's legs untangle from Harper's waist, and once she's perched on a stool she lets go of his shoulders as well. One hand brushes her skirt, smoothing it over her legs as she peers up at him. "So flirt away, if you're going to. Since I'm not allowed."

"Mm." Harper holds up one finger, then digs in a vest pocket. He turns his paw out, open, for Darcy to see. It contains! Coinage. "It's because of /these/... that I don't have to go." He grins.

Harper shrugs. "The beast I got the supplies from? Agreed to pay them back on the way back through. We can't spend /too/ much, but enough for a few drinks," he explains.

Darcy looks a little baffled. Even the tiniest bit annoyed. "Yeah. No. We're not spending any. I'll just haggle us something for free."

Harper looks a little. Taken aback. "... What?"

Darcy shakes her head. "We've had plenty of trouble already and we're not even to Sala yet. Just. Keep it, in case we actually /need/ it."

Harper's brow furrows. "I /am/ saving what we need," Harper points out.

"I mean. .. Harp. If we /need/ it." She turns, facing the counter with one hand pressing against the edge. "If we can get it for free, why spend coin we might need for something else?"

"Because this is their /livelihood/," Harper points out obstinately.

"If they couldn't afford to give some away, they wouldn't. My dad's a brewer, Harp," she reminds him.

"Why're you being /difficult/?" Harper frowns.

Darcy's ears press back a little. "I just don't.. want anything bad to happen. Money's leverage, you know? We should save it. How much do you have?"

Harper is starting to regret he mentioned it to her. He closes his paw, stuffing it back into his pocket. "/Enough/."

Darcy is startled enough by the sharp tone to flinch a little. Her eyes cut up at him. ".. what is going on."

"... That's what I'd like t'know," Harper frowns at her.

Darcy frowns back. Her neck is craned because he's standing up while she's sitting. "I just. Think it could be better spent? .. than on me. I mean.. us. Getting slarmed." She rubs at the side of her muzzle.

"Darcy. It's a few coppers," he points out. "And the point of this trip was..." What? "To enjoy ourselves."

Darcy's muzzle scrunches up. "Okay. You pay for a drink for you. And I'll get my own." She looks disgruntled as she gets up off the stool.

"Or, you know what. I'm not thirsty. I think I'll go to bed." And Harper starts to rise. He looks. Extremely put out.

Darcy ears flatten. "What the hell is the matter with you."

"/You/ are. /You/ are what is the matter with me, Darcy. Do you just have, like. This /rule/ that you have to ruin anything good?" And Harper's muzzle twists in a frown. And he turns, heading for the door.

Darcy's mouth opens, and shuts. And she just stands there, looking kind of like she was just smacked.

Harper doesn't even look back. He just walks out.

"Harper," she calls after, just as he moves through the door. She cringes at how wavery it sounds.

Harper stops, just beyond the door with his paw on the doorknob. He can't stand there for too long - he's letting the cold in.

Darcy moves after. Cold be damned, she catches her small hand against the bend of his arm, tilts her head up. "Hey. Screw it, okay? Forget I said anything."

There's tension in the curve arm. His head turns, so that he's looking down at her. His brow is furrowed. But hey! At least he looks good!

Darcy's fingers squeeze a little. "I'm sorry. Just.. I'll buy you a drink?" Her smile is abrupt and even a little dazzling. Her other hand sneaks into his pocket, going after the stash of coins.

Harper's paw comes up, catching hold of Darcy's. He shakes his head. "... Let's just not, Darce. I don't feel like drinkin'."

Darcy's fingers hook against his pocket. "Don't.. do the broody thing. Harp. I'm /sorry/."

Harper looks at Darcy for a long moment. He. Ugh. He closes his eyes. "... Okay," he lets it out with a sigh. He looses her paw.

The doe's smile is kind of fragile, cautious. Any moment now she might just make it worse. She slips the pouch from his pocket, steps back. "What do you want? Maybe cognac? .. something not as strong to start?"

Harper kind of - laughs. It's an empty sound, but he's /trying/. "... Ale. Just ale. Nothin' fancy."

Darcy backpedals, then turns. Her gaze fixes determinedly on the 'tender. Oh how do you make a guy happy who you just pissed off, Darce? "Ale, and a scotch," she orders, "and do you have a deck of cards I can borrow..?"

Harper rubs a paw over his face once Darcy's back is turned. He bites back a sigh and just. Takes a breath. Chill /out/, Harp. He comes forward, and up beside Darcy. He, quietly, without saying anything, slips his arm around her waist. Just stands there.

Darcy glances up at Harper, expression kind of soft but wary. "... make that two decks."

Harper looks down at her and just. Smiles. A fleeting little thing. "Cards? What for?" Conversation! Easy conversation. He can /do/ this!

The hand not holding the money pouch lifts and Darcy smooths her thumb along the collar of his shirt. "You'll see. ... you know I'm not used to you looking so.. so.."

Harper's eyebrows shoot up. "Normal?" Because habit-wearing hares aren't exactly typical.

"... brown," Darcy says cheekily.

Harper smirks faintly. "... Aha. Well, that too."

"And." Pause. ".. handsome."

Darcy then quickly amends, "I mean you always /are/.."

Harper shakes his head. "... No, I'm not. But thanks." He chuckles, then looks down at himself. "The clothing helps."

Darcy scowls faintly. "Are too. Don't give me that rubbish. I mean you're not /Zeraph/ but.."

Harper /laughs/. "Oh. Thanks. I take that as a compliment. It also means I'm not constantly sufferin' brain damage from bein' so bloody tall."

Darcy rolls her eyes and grins at him. "Well if it helps... you're /rather/ tall to me."

Harper reaches up, measuring Darcy's height with a paw next to her head. "That's not saying much," he points out.

Darcy jabs her elbow at his ribs. "Arse."

"Thank you for noticin'," he smiles. Glances to the bartend. Drinks, eh wot?