- You’d think there wasn’t much of a difference between stitching up a fellow soldier and repairing a tear in a coat, but try as he might, Dussander couldn’t get a stitch to stay in leather and it was obnoxiously difficult to thread his needle through fur. He’d wasted almost all of the thread he found in Nele’s old things, and the straggly bit of string he had left wasn’t going to keep anything together. Let alone Preben’s new winter coat.
Preben, who’d managed to tear it the day after Dussander had bought it for him. Kid grew like a weed. His last one didn’t even cover his wrists, and Preben couldn’t bend his elbows in it. So he’d gone out and purchased something that fit properly: nice, warm, rabbit fur. It should have kept him from catching cold, but it was torn half way down the side, leaving a gaping entrance for the cold to slip through.
Right now, Preben was hudded up in Dussander’s oversized old coat, his chin tucked against his chest, shoulder slumped. He cast Dussander a pitiful glance from the corner of his eyes, and ducked his head down.
Dussander, coatless in cold, clamped a hand on Preben’s shoulder and steered him through the snow. He wasn’t in the mood to have words with his son right now. But he was coming along. He’d have to learn what carelessness cost them. Dussander couldn’t be replacing coats and clothing every week. They had a budget.
The rounded a bend in the street and continued on his silence. Only their boots crunching along the snow to announce their presence. Finally Dussander saw what he was searching for… a tailor’s shop. Small and quaint, tucked against a larger market square. He dropped his grip on Preben’s shoulder and eased the door open, ushering Preben inside.
They both paused in the door way to stomp the snow loos from their boots.
“Wait over there,” Dussander jerked his chin the direction of a couple chairs near the front of the shop.
Preben shuffled over with a sniff, scuffing the floor with the toe of his boots and plopping down heavily in one of the seats. He whipped his nose turned his head away from his father.
Dussander held back a sigh and approached the counter.
Kyrieko
I'm so so sorry this took so long. ;3;
