Robert
**Characters featured**: *James Jennings* (
Sidney
The day had been surprisingly sunny, only a few clouds occasionally blocking the sun as it tried to warm the snow laden ground. White snow and ice was now painted shades of orange and yellow as the sun started to set over the hills, bare trees casting long shadows amongst the forest's edge. James wished he could have enjoyed such wonderful weather more, having been stuck in the church all day meeting with people and even giving his first independent sermon. Abel had to be absent today which was both a relief and quite nerve wracking. Abel took his work extremely seriously and it was nice seeing his mentor take the time to look after both himself and the people he cared about since the previous full moon affected so many. However, this was the first time James did a sermon without Abel present and given how much their preaching styles differed he was honored to be trusted. He liked to think that he did a good job given how others reacted, having focused on the topic of forgiving both others and yourself through the lens of scripture. He knew many were struggling after it was revealed that Noah Rowe, the now deceased town sheriff, was a werewolf all along, so he felt like touching on such a topic would remind others to be kind to all in light of this development - including themselves. 

Anyways, James had just left work in the late afternoon and thankfully was still close enough to the church to go right back in and lay down on one of the benches in private when he felt some tensing and shifting in his neck and face, managing to get inside right as his head started to jerk to the side rather painfully. He laid there for a while until the pain died down and his muscles relaxed, trying to deduce why it happened. He was hungry and stressed about the sermon's reception, that was probably it. After he recovered he went straight to the diner for some food and rest before moving to the forest, looking to get some fresh air and maybe relax.

He wasn't dressed in a cassock or collar or anything, simply putting on a black button up shirt and pants without a tie. It took him a while this morning but his father was more than happy to help speed up the process, having attended himself in support but leaving right after the sermon itself was done to do some household chores. In fact, his brother Jesse, Jesse's wife, and young daughter had attended too, giving him praise which slightly soothed his concerns about how he did. They were family, sure, but he trusted them to be honest if there was a real issue.

Reaching the edge of the forest James began to grin, the view never failing to amaze him no matter the season. Dressed further in a worn brown sheep-lined coat and dark fingerless gloves James looked about, leaning mostly on one foot and two forearm crutches while he studied the horizon, his club foot being a bit too sore to lean on too heavily. In a beige messenger bag slung around his shoulder was a pouch once filled with snacks, a leatherbound journal filled with drawings, a well loved and annotated bible of his own, and a stick of charcoal wrapped up in cloth. He had intended to just sit and draw whatever he saw but something new caught his eye, a silhouette that was unmistakable. There was another person out here, their features mostly indiscernible from a distance but still an adult human, one with a thin build and long hair. Without hesitation James would approach, not knowing what or who he'd find but not caring too much. 

Metal crutches made of welded rods and an upcycled belt alongside a pair of brown boots crunched against the snow and dirt, James moving to the side in hopes that she'd see him from her peripherals first if he didn't hear him coming. "Hey there!" Was the first thing he said as he approached from the side, giving a wide smile that made his eyes squint for a moment.

"Um, sorry if I'm interrupting anything, I just noticed you as I was walking over here. Are you enjoying the view too?" He'd ask with genuine curiosity, tilting his head for emphasis and not thinking to introduce himself until he asked the question, quickly adding onto his previous statement with an apologetic laugh. "Oh! I'm James by the way, probably should've started with that." He was a bit unaware of any emptiness in the woman's eyes or what could be assumed from an otherwise disheveled appearance, at least not yet since he was more preoccupied with introductions than analyzing the details. Her face did look vaguely familiar, though.
John
The first sunny day in a while had been just the motivation Marianne needed to leave the house of her own volition for once. Though she'd been trying to get "Out there" A little more lately, the cold mornings and creeping darkness of the all-too-early evenings were an easy excuse to leave things until tomorrow - her shopping could often wait, and social outings weren't exactly her forte, she'd much rather be on the receiving end of guests so as to be able to shut the door in their faces should an unwanted visitor come to call. Still, it had seemed like the kind of day to reach out and grasp in both hands, and thus, she had found herself making her way home through the northernmost part of the woods, having taken a slight detour to make the most of the late-afternoon lingering light. 

The undergrowth was thick out here, but she knew it well, the paths through the trees worn through decades of desire, of the townspeople's needs to get to and fro despite the trees and the brush. She'd walked them countless times, both in her youth and in more recent years gone by, and so long as she was home by dark there was little to worry about. She could have found her way home blinded and with hands tied at her back, had the need arose. It was about as peaceful as Briar Ridge could be, lately. Nobody came up this far unless they had reason to be here. 

Deep in her own thoughts - really, in her own world - she walked along the perimeter of the trees, mindful of the roots protruding from the dirt and twisting around one another. The hem of her dress caught on a particularly overgrown bush, and as she tugged it free and felt a rip, she sighed. Another to add to the seemingly never-ending pile of repairs to do, if she had a green thread to match and a needle to fix it with. Something to think about at home. There was always so much to think about. Sometimes, really, she wished she could make the thoughts stop.

In the end, it was a voice that pulled her from them. A man's voice, but not one she could immediately place, somewhat softer than any she thought she knew. She turned to him, an uncertain look upon her face as she tried to make out the figure, and skipped over another large root to make her way closer. No... A stranger for sure, a man walking with a pair of crutches, and though his face looked like one she might have known long ago, she couldn't place him nor remember his name. It seemed not to matter, though, for the next thing he did was introduce himself. James... James...

She was staring, rather rudely, and caught herself suddenly, cheeks flushing and a hand coming to cover her mouth. "Good afternoon, sir. I apologise, I didn't see you until you called out. Marianne - I don't believe we've met, but it's a pleasure. I was making my way home - just a little further west from here. Did you need something?"

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Sidney
James didn't think too much about her staring, assuming that it was either because of his crutches or that she was simply spacing out and analyzing the situation in her head. Sometimes James spaced out too so he could understand to a degree even if he only did it when around plants rather than people. It did give him time to get a good look at her too, his eyes sticking to her face and upper body. What he first noticed was the gauntness, the sharpness in her cheeks that were either genetic or due to far from healthy habits. Next he focused on her hair, kept down and the color of fallen leaves after a rainstorm. He didn't focus on it for long enough to note any tangles though, quickly moving to her eyes which appeared out of focus and were the color of a dreary day filled with fog and cloudy skies. She was probably in her own head so he was willing to wait, being quickly met by her coming back to earth to respond. He kept his smile intact even if it faltered with her sudden return and response since he too was caught kind of off guard by it. 

His smile returned to it's previous state as she revealed her name - Marianne, vaguely familiar but not ringing enough bells to give any weight. "You're fine, you were clearly focused on something so I don't blame you." He began with a tiny chuckle, hoping to put her at ease somewhat. "I don't think I remember meeting you either but I always love seeing new people. Oh, and I don't need anything from you, just wanted to say hello and see what you were doing." James continued, pausing after those last few words to look around again and try and gauge where west was. His brother Jesse was always good at that and it was a running joke amongst the triplets as teens that the man had some carrier pigeon blood in him.

Gags aside he didn't focus on cardinal directions too long, not really having a need to since he wasn't going to her house anytime soon. 

"I was initially coming out here to draw a bit but running into someone is also nice, especially after a long day. I won't force you to stay though since you were already heading home, I'd hate to keep you away from your house if that's where you'd rather be." James continued and finally stopped, wanting to preface that she wasn't obligated to stay and chat as much as he'd like to. He waited for some sort of confirmation that she would stay or leave, transitioning to leaning more on his good foot while he stood still, his back slouched forward a tad.
John
"Only focused on what's inside of my own head, sir. Again, I'm so sorry I didn't notice you coming, I would have come down to you rather than have you come all the way up here. It's sure not the kindest path." Marianne smiled a little, making a slight gesture to the crutches James walked on. "I'm in no hurry to be on my way, though I can't promise to be the best conversation you've had today." *Reach out and grasp the day in both hands*, she reminded herself, for any other time she'd much rather have made her quick exit and retreated home to her books and her phonograph. But no - she would stay. For all she knew, James could be a good man, a friend, and her life was sorely lacking in those as of late. 

"It's awful cold to be out here only to draw," She continued, transferring her shopping bag from hand to hand and taking the opportunity to have a good look at James, the way he seemed to be looking at her. She could forgive herself for not recognising him, really. Besides the aids he used to walk, and the set of remarkably sharp cheekbones on his face, he didn't seem the type of man to stand out in a crowd, not that she'd been looking hard. Winter was a difficult time of year, one which brought with it memories she'd rather forget, and it led to spirals if she were to be too careless with herself. There was enough of a nightmare going on in the present without her making herself any more. "You must be very good at your art. Or at least, very passionate about it. Is there something particular you were hoping to get a picture of?"

She recognised him. 
She couldn't place him, and that irritated her, but she racked her brain, thinking there must be something she was missing. A face in the past whose name had been lost to her. He should have been so distinctive, if she knew him, and yet, her youth felt so long ago she only pictured everything in filmy, sepia haze. 

"Forgive me, James, but it'll drive me to insanity if I don't ask. Where might I know you from? You ring a bell or three... I wasn't raised here, but I visited often, it's unusual for me to forget. It's awful rude, I'm well aware. Only hope you'll grant me my curiosity."

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Sidney
James knew what she was gesturing to without even looking but he didn't mind. In fact, he was sort of glad she recognized that rougher or unkempt terrain could be more difficult for him. The only thing he offered was a smile and more reassurances, "Again, you don't have to apologize. Forgive and forget, ya know?" He said with a smile before Marianne continued, not paying much mind to her comment that she didn't believe she was the best at conversation. He could care less honestly, just a small chat no matter the quality was a nice way to clear his head. However, his smile faltered again as she continued and remarked that it was too cold to be outside simply to draw, James tilting his head and giving a small hum to express his confusion and that he disagreed. However, he could sort of understand what she meant if she didn't know he was already out and just stopping along the way to his house. He perked right back up and stopped thinking about her opinion of the weather once she started talking about his art directly, something buzzing and warm filling his chest and limbs. He always felt ecstatic to share his art with someone who wanted to see it. Her compliment added a sprinkle of red to his already reddened cheeks, James looking around for somewhere to sit before focusing on a log. 

"Thank you! I'd like to think I'm good but it just depends on what you think good art is. My dad calls my art 'messy but in a good way'." James replied as he began making his way over to the log not too far from the main trail, leaning down slowly to sit.

"I just draw whatever I can find but I love birds and landscapes the most! I can show you some examples, just gimme a sec." He added once he got situated, holding a finger up to silently gesture for her to wait. He didn't really bother taking his forearm crutches off, being too excited to think of it and not knowing how long he'd be sitting. Slinging his messenger back over to his lap James started digging, swiftly taking out an old leatherbound journal with stray pieces of paper sticking out here and there. Removing the strap that held it together he started to flip through, looking for something that would most encapsulate his art. However, before he could really land on one Marianne's voice caught his attention, dragging his focus away from the journal and back towards her. 

James didn't respond for a moment, pursing his lips and humming while he thought about where she might've seen him. "Well... My dad makes and sells jams outside of our house so you could've saw me selling some jars of the stuff. I also was recently taken in by Abel to be a sort of apprentice or something since I want to be a pastor one day and I've been doing that for... Three years now? Something like that, I don't exactly remember. If you visited as a kid then maybe you saw me with my brothers. We all look alike and I had two crutches that went under my armpits for a while so I might've looked even more different then."

James kept trying to list off places Marianne might've spotted him but he doubted she saw him at the church itself. He liked to think that he could recognize most regular church-goers since he often greeted them and wished them a good day before and after service but he wouldn't be surprised if she slipped by. 

He didn't focus much on her reaction, going right back to looking for a good drawing. Before long he finally found one, a charcoal drawing he made of his cat Pepper with dried flowers to replace her eyes alongside more pressed plants pasted around her to convey the idea that she was sitting in a field of some sort. "Aha! Here, here's a good one." He exclaimed before turning the journal around to show her while pointing to the page with a free hand, the finger he used to point trembling ever so slightly. On the opposite page was some charcoal smudges from the drawing of Pepper but was otherwise completely blank.
John
The church.

Marianne stiffened at the mere mention of the place. 

She'd long ago discovered that the place, and Father Abel, and all his glorified book said about the Lord's work, were perhaps not things she had any reason left to believe in. 
If there were a God up in a heaven on high, then He had forsaken Marianne Wilburn in 1919, stolen from her all that she held dear and everyone she had had to love. 
Countless nights had been spent looking up at the sky, and the stars, and the clouds that concealed what lay beyond from her eye, screaming demands to know, if He had been as benevolent and all-knowing as the pastor claimed He were, then why had He chosen to take them? What good had it done to leave her here alone, no longer a girl but not yet a woman in her own right, with no-one to guide her hand nor light her way? Had she done something to deserve the pain of not one loss, but three, all at once with neither warning nor apology?
Had her ma, who'd never hurt a living creature as long as she lived? Pa, whose life's work had been dedicated to providing for his family and ensuring they never wanted for anything? 
And Julius, who had been sent to fight, to defend his country while barely old enough to hold a weapon, and who had come home with a bullet in his shoulder and still endless, heaping love in his heart... What had the Lord done for him?

She felt suddenly sick, and could only hope it didn't show on her face.

James was young. If he had only ever known Briar Ridge, there was a chance he had been sheltered from the evil that lay beyond its boundaries. Either he didn't know what his beloved church was capable of hiding, or he didn't care, and all Marianne could do was desperately hope it was the former. He had kind eyes and his words seemed genuine. But then, people were not always what they seemed. 
*Relax, Mari. Hold your tongue. You know nothing of him yet.*

So she bit her lip, and leaned in to look at the charcoal on the page he was showing to her - she couldn't deny her curiosity, bubbling under the surface of panic like a pot above the fireplace. 
"Perhaps I did see you as a child. I grew up spending a good amount of time here. And I try not to forget a face, which is why it frustrates me so that I didn't recall yours. I'm sorry."
The drawing was a sweet one, a little cat surrounded by flowers, the shapes of the petals and leaves ones that she recognised but couldn't name in her unsettled state. They grew in her garden borders in spring, all shades of pinks and oranges. The bees liked them. She'd never uproot them. 
"Oh, how lovely. What a sweetheart." She pressed her lips into something she could only hope was more a smile than a grimace. "I'd cross a field to pet a cat any day of the week, no matter the weather nor the errands I had to run." 

Straightening up, she couldn't help but wonder.
"Did the pastor send you to find me?"

It was no secret that she had scorned Father Abel years ago, when he came to the door to invite her back to the congregation following her hospitalisation. She'd never liked the man. It didn't seem too far-fetched that he might have sent a spy to try to rein her back in. 
Though James didn't strike her as much of a spy, it seemed best to know. 

"And don't lie to me. Please."

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Sidney
James didn't notice her stiffen nor how her face contorted with discomfort, fear, and grief alike, at least not at first. It was only when she started to talk about his drawing that the pieces fell into place. He hardly had time to once again reassure her after another apology, his mind drifting to her reaction. It was very subtle, a consistent yet slight change to her tone after his exclamations coupled with some stiff expressions only giving James room to speculate. There were many reasons as to why she might've changed her demeanor which ranged from something he did wrong to something entirely out of anyone's control. It almost reminded him of disgust but not quite, the vague image of a similar expression on the face of an adult during his youth. Still, he tried keeping out of that memory and only focusing on other options as to why Marianne had shifted, but he wasn't super successful.

He remembered going with his dad to greet someone new in town, James making a drawing as a welcoming gift while his dad offered some raspberry jam on the house. When the newcomer answered the door there was joy and respect in their eyes right until they noticed James, the young boy holding up his drawing of the forest that he was actually quite proud of at the time. Suddenly their smile turned to a grimace, forced out of politeness while the rest of their body stiffened and eyes squinted. They hastily went back inside, thanking his father before closing the door on them both, not even seeming to consider taking the drawing. It wasn't common in all honesty, most of the residents in town having known James from birth up until that point while other children responded more with curiosity or hostility at worst rather than disgust. It was like the stranger believed him to be sick with some contagious disease and for a while James treated himself as such, too embarrassed to leave his house for a day or two until he regained his confidence.

Marianne's expression wasn't exactly like that but similar enough to feel familiar, James' smile faltering and eyes shifting away as he worried that maybe it was him that made Marianne uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Marianne would speak up again, revealing why she was so uncomfortable all of a sudden. It had something to do with Father Abel, his mentor. It wasn't James as a person, just who he was affiliated with. In fact, her concern made little sense at first, James not knowing why Abel would seek others out who didn't believe until a few remarks acted like the glue to make the pieces stick. Abel often associated the sin of Briar Ridge with the werewolf attacks, something James definitely disagreed with since he saw it more as a condition rather than divine punishment. Sure, God could send down plagues, but as far as he was aware none of them ever made His children do the killing. Maybe she thought Father Abel was trying to convert her? Had he already tried?

In an instant James relaxed again, his smile returning but less bright and more geared towards showing compassion rather than joy. It took James a while to respond since he knew this moment might require some careful wording and gentle reassurance. Taking a deep breath in James began his statement, closing his journal along the way. "First of all, no. Father Abel didn't send me to find you. Second, if he ever asked me to do something like that to convert someone I would wholeheartedly refuse. That just feels... Gross. Like, I want to be a pastor, not a missionary, and I just know that it would make anyone uncomfortable which is the last thing I want." James attempted to reassure, his voice quiet and hushed both due to nerves and wanting to be as comforting as possible.

Once he finished his initial statement James shifted gears and body a bit, placing his journal in his bag and gripping the strap of the bag nervously with both hands and even giving it the occasional fidgety twist.

"Um... I can't say I know what's happened or what you're thinking but... If it'll make you feel better I can just not talk about church stuff. I mean, you don't have to stay if me being associated with Abel makes you uncomfortable, I sure as hell know how intimidating and arrogant that man can be." James continued, leaving room for Marianne to make yet another decision based on her needs. As he spoke his eyes didn't really meet hers but once silence struck they returned to her, James offering a smile in hopes it would give her the courage to do what was best for her.
John
In all the time it took James to respond to her question, Marianne's heart was racing, and the thoughts in her head were doing much of the same. Was he quiet because he'd been rumbled, or was she over-analysing everything, as she was wont to do of late? She hadn't done anything to merit the attention of the pastor, nor his apprentice, beyond avoiding Sunday services at least, and she'd been doing that for years. She found no comfort in the church, nor the God who watched over it, and did not see that changing any time soon (or frankly, in her lifetime), so why would she spend her mornings in an uncomfortable pew allowing men who knew nothing of pain to preach over her head?

James was a good man. Though it took him some time to formulate an answer to the accusation, when he did speak again, it was reassuring. Comforting, almost, in a way that only men who were half still boys could be, words murmured in a tone not unlike the one Marianne reserved for young children, or injured wild animals, or the Gray family's sheep when she passed by their pasture. 
He spoke so sincerely that she'd have been hard pressed not to believe the things he said. That not only had he not been sent by Abel or indeed, by the Lord himself, but if he had been asked to track her down he'd have rejected the challenge outright. 
*A pastor, not a missionary*.
 Marianne had met missionaries, as a young girl in Tennessee, and back then, she had listened to their stories and allowed them to pray over her.

And it had done not a thing, in the grand scheme of it all. So much for their prayers, for their blessings and well-wishes and promises of fortune bestowed upon the family. A benevolent God would not have taken the things that Marianne had lost. 

She found that James was waiting on her to speak, and though it did not come easily, he had said enough to merit at least some kind of response. She pressed her lips together, swallowed back against the fearful lump in her throat, and shook her head. "I have no desire to leave just yet, sir."

That would do, until she could gather her wits back about her. 

"Your... *Alliance* With the Father is... Unfortunate, we shall say. But I shan't allow it to be a barrier to a friendship. I've spent enough time these past few years alone, without dragging you into all the awful details. And I should like to know you, if my status as what Abel would no doubt call a heathen don't make you feel the need to turn tail and run."
A smile, then, a genuine one. She was exaggerating, sure that even the pastor wouldn't go so far as to accuse her of heresy, not when her grandmother's crucifixes still decorated the old house inside and out. But it was a weak joke, one meant to lighten the mood that she had so unfortunately dragged down with her worrying. 

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Sidney
The silence as Marianne digested his words was suffocating, causing his twisting grip on his bag's strap to grow tighter until she spoke. With her words came release, his hands stopping their fidgeting and his shoulders relaxing again. His smile, now completely natural, mirrored the one Marianne would soon flaunt. He still slouched but it wasn't fueled by fawning, only by habit. He couldn't agree more that him being the apprentice of Father Abel wasn't the most favorable or easy but he couldn't imagine anything else. In a way it gave him experience with different perspectives and ways of executing His word while also staying calm. Abel wasn't the most extreme but was a lot louder and more dominating when preaching, a stark contrast to James' preferred style and some of his interpretations.

Even if Marianne was joking about her being a so-called heathen James couldn't help but take it a bit seriously, immediately rushing to reassure with a more light-hearted edge. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't laugh. "Oh yeah, he's intense. Sometimes people expect me to be just like him when the only thing they've heard about me is my apprenticeship. Some people are disappointed but others tend to be relieved because, let's face it, he can be a bit too full of himself sometimes." James remarked with a small chuckle, actually being quite happy to complain a little bit about Abel.

"Like, he thinks he's so righteous and stuff... I do think that there's something deeper though, even if it doesn't excuse his behavior. Like, he sees doctrine as a rulebook I think, but why so strict? I feel like he's scared of the world but just won't admit it. I've found him asleep in his office before, just snoozing away at his desk. He probably wants to use his position or faith as a way to fight whatever he's afraid of or distract himself from something rather than facing the wider world." He continued, getting a little more contemplative and serious near the end than he would've liked. It was mostly speculation on his part but he'd never verbally expressed his queries to anyone before, hence why it all came tumbling out on a whim.

As soon as James noticed the more solemn tonal shift he tried to backpedal, not wanting to make this interaction any more sad or energy consuming than it already was. "A-anyway, can I ask some questions about you? You said you live nearby. Do you have any pets or live with anyone? I've always wanted to live in a more wooded part of town but I don't think I'd enjoy it much if I had to take long journeys into town proper, I'm already sore as it is from standing during service today."
John
"I'm fair glad you're not like him, James," Marianne decided. "It's all well and good being devoted to the faith as he is, and as I'm sure you are in your heart, but it's as you say - it doesn't excuse being hard-hearted about things. I don't find comfort in his speeches the way he insists one's supposed to and I fear at least half that is that I simply can't settle under his gaze. If I'm to be judged at the end of my life, I don't see what gives a mere man the right to judge me throughout it, too." She rolled her eyes a little, but was happy to have the conversation move on to brighter things, having no desire to dwell upon thoughts of Father Abel any longer.

"You ask all you want to," She assured, as James continued onward, naturally curious about her lifestyle and her home. She understood why - it wasn't as though she lived in the usual way, and many folks around town raised their eyebrows when it came to the way she went through life, alone in the big house up on the hillside. "I'm happy to talk. I'm alone out here for the most part, I'm sure some folks still don't know that anyone lives in my home at all! I do so love to have visitors, but being off the beaten track as I am I don't get too many lately, particularly when the snow comes as it has this winter. The house was left to me in a rather grand will, crumbling as it was, but I've been doing all I can to keep it warm and habitable - I've been here a good number of years now, you see, so I've had plenty of time to work on it, though I'll admit I find much more joy in the garden than I do in things like roof repairs and brickwork." She laughed a little.

"No pets, unless you count the birds at the feeder. I often think of finding myself a dog in need of a home, but the world hasn't brought one to my doorstep just yet.. It *Does* Get quiet up here, and I like it that way for the most part. The journey don't seem so long when I've places to go on the way there and back."

She stopped suddenly, as he mentioned he was in pain, and she turned to him anew. "Say, I don't suppose you'd like to come to see it? The house, and the garden. Feels like a shame to waste the comfort if you're not feeling so well, I'd be happy to stoke the fire and make you a warm drink - though of course if you're happier to stay out here I won't be rushing to leave you!"

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Sidney
As Marianne began talking about Father Abel all he could do was listen and nod along, actually agreeing with her every step of the way. He too didn't think it was man's job to judge people, merely help them while they're on earth and let God to the judging. Besides, he wouldn't be surprised if there were other things he is unaware of through scripture alone, such as translation errors leading to harmless things being declared sins in English versions or other sinful behaviors not making it into written word, a belief that sometimes caused disagreements between himself and other members of the church. Just like Marianne though he was happy to move on to a lighter topic, such frequent talk of religion being tiring even for a guy who was on the road to becoming a pastor.

James kept listening, occasionally reacting to certain statements with joy or sadness, but overall simply remained silent. He felt sort of sad that she lived alone in a house on top of a hill so far removed from the center of town, James not really knowing how he'd survive emotionally if he was completely separated without even a pet or neighbor to talk to. However, it seemed to be working out okay for Marianne if her surface level attitude was anything to go by. She looked a little all over the place, sure, but everyone had their problems, hers were just completely unknown to him besides some issues with Father Abel and the church at the moment. He did feel a surge of excitement whenever her garden was brought up though, James doing his best to not interrupt her as he held his tongue. He wanted to ask a billion follow up questions, such as what she grew there or what sorts of birds she saw coming to her feeder when it came time for her to mention that part.

His face probably gave his excitement away however, his already big eyes widening even further and smile expanding to an almost uncanny length.

The very moment Marianne shifted gears and invited James over he opened his mouth to speak, just about to accept on impulse before stopping himself. As enticing as it was he also realized that his father had no idea where he was going. Sure, his dad never worried too much when one of his brothers stayed the night at a friend's house without warning, but when it came to anything James did there was always more caution associated with it. How would his dad react to him not coming home at the expected time? James was an adult, he knew his father was aware of this and wasn't trying to be coddling, but at the same time he knew just how protective his dad could get. Would he go tearing up town looking for him, fearing he fell into the river knowing he couldn't swim? What about a wild animal? Then again, this could be a chance to prove to his dad once again that he could be independent, that he could be trusted to know his limits and be careful. After the werewolves started their rampage his dad was even more protective and fussy than usual, so maybe this could show him that he'd be fine? Yes, this would be a good thing, it was a win win! Besides, his dad would be fine, it wasn't like James would be gone for days at a time or miss important work if he stayed out later than usual.

After a moment of silent contemplation James perked back up, having sunken back down and was quietly looking around as if he was analyzing some invisible chart in the air. In the end James regained his smile, one much more determined than before but just as overwhelmingly joyous. He had only spaced out for a second or two but it felt like an eternity on the inside, his voice breaking through every racing thought and scenario that flooded his head.

"You know what, I'd love to! Lead the way, friend-o!" James exclaimed, swinging his messenger bag over so that it was resting against his side again before rising to his feet with the help of his crutches. From here James would faithfully follow wherever Marianne took him, albeit with a hefty amount of caution when it came to more overgrown sections of the path leading up towards her house. Moving up the hill left him exhausted and even more sore than before but at least he made it. At least he made it to a warm house with a promised hot drink and a place to truly rest his legs. At least he made a new friend today.