Main Campfire [evening]

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

As Rilla was practically fifteen right now, she felt quite grown-up enough to attempt to light the campfire by herself and managed without setting anything other than the kindling ablaze. In a long-ish skirt and multiple layers, this was a trickier business than you might imagine.

She settled herself onto a comfortable log, stared starry-eyed into the campfire (it reminded her of good times with her family on the shore when they burned all of the debris that washed up over the winter) and began singing a Scottish air from home.

Her voice was surprisingly good for someone who wasn't prone to singing in public, but around a campfire, such a thing was expected along with ghost stories and toasted bread.

She'd provide the bread if someone else had ghost stories.

[OOC: So very open!]

Comments

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I can't imagine not being able to see the sea," Rilla sighed. "Do you find the sound quite distracting, then?"

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"I wouldn't say that at all," Elphaba said. "I do like the sound quite a bit, though sometimes watching the waves can make you feel so very tiny. Awe-striking, I think that's what I'd call the sea."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"I love it in all its moods," Rilla said. "This lake isn't quite the same."

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"I don't really have much to compare," Elphaba admitted. "So I will take your word for it." She paused for a moment, then asked the question on her mind. "Do you sing often?"

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"When I'm cleaning, mostly," Rilla said, "and in church. But not in front of halls or anything."

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"Well I think you could, if you wanted to," Elphaba said. "Though I'm not an expert in what is a great singer for your world, I admit. But I think your singing is perfectly good."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Oh, thank you," Rilla said. "I think if I were to become a performer like that our housekeeper would have a heart attack. She already thinks that my brother wanting to be a poet is a very small step from wishing to become a vagrant."

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"Why would a poet be a vagrant?" Elphaba said, a little aghast at the thought. "Certainly if he was good, he would be heralded and loved?"

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"But Susan doesn't really approve of the arts," Rilla replied. "Actors, poets, singers--those aren't professions, in her view. She keeps hoping Walter will grow out of it."

Rilla didn't seem that worried about her brother outgrowing his poetry.

[didntchewgrass.livejournal.com]

"That's an awful thought," Elphaba said. "Artists might not toil in the sun, or work their hands raw, but certainly they work hard. But I think from your manner that you do not agree with Susan."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Walter is wonderful," Rilla replied, "and he's a poet to his fingernails. The disapproval of Susan will hardly deter him."