ewancummins wrote:''Alain, we must burn the corn! Please, you have to help me. Salt. If only we had salt enough for it... SHUT UP, YOU DEVILS!'' Moorkroft is pacing and ranting now. He begins stuffing straw and bits of ragged cloth into his ears. ''Mother of Shielding, make them be silent!'' He begins to hack at the decayed remnants of the scarecrow, still shouting. ''I can't think with all this racket.''
Alain looks horrified by Moorcrofts behavior, he gives the shouting madman a wide birth as he makes his way towards Roland.
"Pardon Moi Monsiuer...Are you a writer as well?" He asks roland.
"I myself dabble with the pen, as a matter of fact I, untill recent events, have been recording the events of our travels from a fictional standpoint." He says this with a small smirk of pride on his face.
"Speaking of which, I am awefully far behind in my writings..." He then reaches into his pack and takes from within his pen and ink and some paper.
"Not the most ideal office for the creative process is it?"he says gesturing to the surrounding barn.
"Or maybe...It's just perfect." With that he begins to write.