The snow was already starting to lay out by the homesteads. Even just half a day's ride from Pax, the weather was just that little bit colder. It was both a blessing and a curse - a blessing, in that the deep drifts coming their way were a barrier to the mutants, who tended to hibernate underground mostly when the winter was holding on tight; a curse in that, for about four months, there was nothing to look at but whiteness and each other. And those four months were going to be important ones on the Mullen homestead - the end of them promised not only the first flicker of spring, but the birth of the baby currently rounding out Dale's mid-section. Stubborn woman that she was, she refused to take it easy unless Eli absolutely insisted, but even he had learned to pick his battles. This was how he ended up chopping wood to add to the store in the cellar in the falling snow, just to keep an eye on a pregnant wife who had insisted on sweeping the snow and ice off the porch, despite the fact that more was just going to fall.
The eldest of the Mullen brothers, Eli had taken charge of his younger brother after the death of their parents - an event that had molded and shaped him into the man that he was. As stubborn as Dale and just as bossy, one might think the pair did nothing but argue, when in fact, mostly the opposite was true. After a few rocky first weeks together, they had settled into comfortable companionship that neither had recognized right away as love or affection; but now that they were married and Dale was with child, it had become clear to everyone who knew them that they were perfect for each other - even when they were arguing. But Eli had learned to pick his battles carefully, and today - this first real day of significant snowfall - he had grudgingly relented and let Dale do as she liked, so long as she wasn't chopping word or shoveling snow. He may have been overheard grumbling to himself a little, but it was just his way of showing he cared.
"Pretty sure you can't cuss the wood into splitting for you," Dale commented from the porch. She was, at least, properly dressed for the weather, wrapped up in coat, shawl, and hood over her thick woolen dress. An unwise man might even suggest she looked like a woolen sausage wielding a broom, if he wanted to be eating horse fodder for the foreseeable future.
But Eli wasn't that man - he wasn't stupid or brash enough to insult the only woman who'd ever been able to put up with him. "And I'm pretty sure you're fighting a losing battle," he retorted, though there was no anger or malice in his voice. Unlike her, he was not wearing a coat, but did have a wool sweater on over his shirt, a scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, and leather gloves on his hands, which were more to protect against calluses and wood chips than the cold. He had managed to work up a sweat while swinging the axe, as well as a modest pile of wood.
Leaning on her broom, Dale twitched the hood back from her mouth, huffing out a small cloud of breath. "I'm goin' crazy shut up inside and only allowed to do gentle things," she pointed out. "One bit of sweeping isn't going to do any damage, worrywart."
"Well, you can take a break in a bit and make us some hot cocoa, if that's not too gentle for you," Eli replied, trying hard to hide the smirk on his face. He knew how Dale usually reacted to his demands, whether they were sincere or in jest. He knew she was likely to scold him about it, but the prospect of making up was the best part of arguing.
Her eyes narrowed at the twitch of his lips, knowing he was prodding her just because he could. Arguing was one of the things they did best, after all. "Very funny," she drawled in response. "You know what? One of these days, I'm going to cut the wood, and you'll make the cocoa. Then we'll see who's laughing."
"Not while you're carrying my son," Eli retorted again, though he had no idea whether the child she was carrying was a boy or a girl. Nor did it really matter, so long as it was healthy, but he just couldn't help teasing her about that, too. He swung the axe, splitting yet another log and tossing it into the growing pile before straightening and wiping the sweat from his brow. "Reckon that'll do us for at least a few days."
"Your son, huh?" The broom clattered against the side of the house as she laid her hands on hips that were invisible under all the layers covering her. "I'm what, just a walking incubator for the spawn of your loins" No wonder you were so ready to marry me just because I asked. When do I move out - after the birth, or after he's weaned?" Anyone overhearing might have thought she meant what she was saying; Eli had the advantage of eight months in close contact with his hot-tempered wife. She might be a little offended, but she was blowing it out of proportion on purpose.
For the couple that was nearing the house, but as yet out of sight among the trees, they might have thought just that. They couldn't see the looks on Dale or Eli's faces yet, though they might have heard him chuckle, before he leaned over and scooping up a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball and tossed it in Dale's direction.
They didn't see the smirk that flickered onto Dale's face, either, or see the way she hoisted up the broom to bat the snowball away. "Such bad manners, Mr. Mullen," she scolded him teasingly. "I guess you're aiming to be sent to bed with no supper tonight, huh' And you get so grouchy when you don't eat regular."
"I have a better idea. Why don't we just go to bed now?" Eli teased back, peeling the gloves from his hands as he stalked his way toward the porch in pursuit of his cheeky wife. He still had to stack the wood into a neat pile on the porch, but it wasn't going anywhere.
One gloved hand rose, pointing a wool-covered finger at him. "Not a chance, you rutting stag, not until the wood's away and I've finished my chore," Dale informed him, standing her ground despite the fact that she knew he was more than capable of manhandling her inside without much in the way of resistance from his feisty wife.
"Can't be a rutting stag, if I don't rut!" Eli pointed out, though that was exactly what had gotten Dale in the condition she was currently in in the first place. He didn't seem too discouraged by her scolding - in fact, just the opposite - stomping his way up the stairs to stalk his pretty wife.
Still wielding the broom, she held it between them, a grin playing about her lips as he stamped up the steps toward her. "You know I'll hit you with this," she reminded him. She'd done it before, after all.
A familiar laugh sounded to them, catching her attention as the sound of snow-deadened hooves made itself known. She peered at the copse that hid the house from the track, rolling her eyes as a familiar horse trotted into sight.
"Missed your chance, stag-boy," she informed her husband fondly. "We've got company."
"There will be others," Eli pointed out with a grin, as he turned to see who it was that had braved the weather to come visit. His smile faded a little when he saw who it was that was approaching the homestead, not because he wasn't happy to see them, so much as he was worried they might have come bearing bad tidings. "What brings you two all the way out here on a day like this?" he asked, as Brona and Cody came into view.
"What, we're not allowed to drop by and make sure you two haven't killed each other yet?" Brona called back to him, clinging on comfortably behind Cody.
Dale snorted with laughter. "Nosy," she accused the pair, but there was a fondness in her tone for them now that had been lacking just a few months ago. Slowly, she was coming to appreciate having a family again.
Eli smirked at both Brona's question and Dale's response, relaxing a little now that he was fairly certain the pair wasn't bringing bad news. "We were just about to make some hot cocoa. Care to join us?" he asked, though it kind of went without saying. They obviously hadn't come all the way out here just to turn around and go home.
The eldest of the Mullen brothers, Eli had taken charge of his younger brother after the death of their parents - an event that had molded and shaped him into the man that he was. As stubborn as Dale and just as bossy, one might think the pair did nothing but argue, when in fact, mostly the opposite was true. After a few rocky first weeks together, they had settled into comfortable companionship that neither had recognized right away as love or affection; but now that they were married and Dale was with child, it had become clear to everyone who knew them that they were perfect for each other - even when they were arguing. But Eli had learned to pick his battles carefully, and today - this first real day of significant snowfall - he had grudgingly relented and let Dale do as she liked, so long as she wasn't chopping word or shoveling snow. He may have been overheard grumbling to himself a little, but it was just his way of showing he cared.
"Pretty sure you can't cuss the wood into splitting for you," Dale commented from the porch. She was, at least, properly dressed for the weather, wrapped up in coat, shawl, and hood over her thick woolen dress. An unwise man might even suggest she looked like a woolen sausage wielding a broom, if he wanted to be eating horse fodder for the foreseeable future.
But Eli wasn't that man - he wasn't stupid or brash enough to insult the only woman who'd ever been able to put up with him. "And I'm pretty sure you're fighting a losing battle," he retorted, though there was no anger or malice in his voice. Unlike her, he was not wearing a coat, but did have a wool sweater on over his shirt, a scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, and leather gloves on his hands, which were more to protect against calluses and wood chips than the cold. He had managed to work up a sweat while swinging the axe, as well as a modest pile of wood.
Leaning on her broom, Dale twitched the hood back from her mouth, huffing out a small cloud of breath. "I'm goin' crazy shut up inside and only allowed to do gentle things," she pointed out. "One bit of sweeping isn't going to do any damage, worrywart."
"Well, you can take a break in a bit and make us some hot cocoa, if that's not too gentle for you," Eli replied, trying hard to hide the smirk on his face. He knew how Dale usually reacted to his demands, whether they were sincere or in jest. He knew she was likely to scold him about it, but the prospect of making up was the best part of arguing.
Her eyes narrowed at the twitch of his lips, knowing he was prodding her just because he could. Arguing was one of the things they did best, after all. "Very funny," she drawled in response. "You know what? One of these days, I'm going to cut the wood, and you'll make the cocoa. Then we'll see who's laughing."
"Not while you're carrying my son," Eli retorted again, though he had no idea whether the child she was carrying was a boy or a girl. Nor did it really matter, so long as it was healthy, but he just couldn't help teasing her about that, too. He swung the axe, splitting yet another log and tossing it into the growing pile before straightening and wiping the sweat from his brow. "Reckon that'll do us for at least a few days."
"Your son, huh?" The broom clattered against the side of the house as she laid her hands on hips that were invisible under all the layers covering her. "I'm what, just a walking incubator for the spawn of your loins" No wonder you were so ready to marry me just because I asked. When do I move out - after the birth, or after he's weaned?" Anyone overhearing might have thought she meant what she was saying; Eli had the advantage of eight months in close contact with his hot-tempered wife. She might be a little offended, but she was blowing it out of proportion on purpose.
For the couple that was nearing the house, but as yet out of sight among the trees, they might have thought just that. They couldn't see the looks on Dale or Eli's faces yet, though they might have heard him chuckle, before he leaned over and scooping up a handful of snow, rolled it into a ball and tossed it in Dale's direction.
They didn't see the smirk that flickered onto Dale's face, either, or see the way she hoisted up the broom to bat the snowball away. "Such bad manners, Mr. Mullen," she scolded him teasingly. "I guess you're aiming to be sent to bed with no supper tonight, huh' And you get so grouchy when you don't eat regular."
"I have a better idea. Why don't we just go to bed now?" Eli teased back, peeling the gloves from his hands as he stalked his way toward the porch in pursuit of his cheeky wife. He still had to stack the wood into a neat pile on the porch, but it wasn't going anywhere.
One gloved hand rose, pointing a wool-covered finger at him. "Not a chance, you rutting stag, not until the wood's away and I've finished my chore," Dale informed him, standing her ground despite the fact that she knew he was more than capable of manhandling her inside without much in the way of resistance from his feisty wife.
"Can't be a rutting stag, if I don't rut!" Eli pointed out, though that was exactly what had gotten Dale in the condition she was currently in in the first place. He didn't seem too discouraged by her scolding - in fact, just the opposite - stomping his way up the stairs to stalk his pretty wife.
Still wielding the broom, she held it between them, a grin playing about her lips as he stamped up the steps toward her. "You know I'll hit you with this," she reminded him. She'd done it before, after all.
A familiar laugh sounded to them, catching her attention as the sound of snow-deadened hooves made itself known. She peered at the copse that hid the house from the track, rolling her eyes as a familiar horse trotted into sight.
"Missed your chance, stag-boy," she informed her husband fondly. "We've got company."
"There will be others," Eli pointed out with a grin, as he turned to see who it was that had braved the weather to come visit. His smile faded a little when he saw who it was that was approaching the homestead, not because he wasn't happy to see them, so much as he was worried they might have come bearing bad tidings. "What brings you two all the way out here on a day like this?" he asked, as Brona and Cody came into view.
"What, we're not allowed to drop by and make sure you two haven't killed each other yet?" Brona called back to him, clinging on comfortably behind Cody.
Dale snorted with laughter. "Nosy," she accused the pair, but there was a fondness in her tone for them now that had been lacking just a few months ago. Slowly, she was coming to appreciate having a family again.
Eli smirked at both Brona's question and Dale's response, relaxing a little now that he was fairly certain the pair wasn't bringing bad news. "We were just about to make some hot cocoa. Care to join us?" he asked, though it kind of went without saying. They obviously hadn't come all the way out here just to turn around and go home.