The Grey Tower

Gareth tended to have a calming effect on children, all but his own apparently (as evidenced by their youth), so Anna was not...too much trouble, although he had to stop her from too much enthusiastic duck adoration...more than once. And eat the apple, whether he wanted to or not. Still, it kept her placated.

It seemed to take forever until Maever returned, but he had two people with them. Even if he hadn't been able to guess, Anna's "mama! papa!" squeal proved who they were, as she jumped up and ran to them. The father bent to lift her in his arms. Gareth could see both their faces were wet, but little Anna just jabbered on about the duck.

"Thank you, both of you," the mother said with a sniffle, before they all left...

Once they were on their way and out of earshot, Gareth got to his feet and walked up to his Yellow Brother. He looked him over with a concerned eye. "You look a little worse for wear," he said, but gently. "I can't imagine that was an easy conversation to have. Do you want to sit for a minute?"

Maever was pretty okay at keeping his concern to himself. When the family were still in sight, and Anna could see him especially, Maever had to be a solid figure, a grown up. But as soon as they parted ways, Anna waving over her papa's shoulder as they retreated, the Illianer slumped like a bubble that had just popped. It was emotionally exhausting, and upsetting, to handle such situations. Maever felt their suffering keenly, and he wished there was something he could do about it, but... he was just one man, and there was no cure for death.

Gareth made his way over and Maever peered up at him, his bottom lip trembling a little. But he steadied himself. "I will be okay," he said confidently, softly. But his light eyes fell on the picnic and he made a dismayed noise. "It do be hard, death. There do no be an easy or quick solution to it, but they will persevere together. The Wheel does weave, and it do be turning as well."

There was plenty of picnic food left over, peeking out the basket where Anna had rifled through it. "Oh noes, all the food they did bring! They do no be wanting it?" he kneeled down and began to tidy up, "there do be so much left. It do be a shame to throw it all away, when someone else could be eating it."

The Illianer plucked the basket up and held it in both hands. "We should go to see the children at Mar a'Mael," he said with a grin. "And the blanket as well. They can play at picnics! I mean, I do be liking the ducks, but we should no feed them too much bread." He would save a little bit though, just in case they were still around when he got back.

Maever Donovan was...something else, Gareth thought with some fondness for his Yellow Brother.

Death was hard, and there was no cure for it. (Although Miahala...) The Yellows saw more than their share of it, but unlike the Greens, for example, who actively worked to create it, the Yellows fought against it. Thus death was failing in a battle that they were desperately fighting, and that weighed heavily upon their souls.

Gareth smiled, though. The big man returned to the blanket and knelt with Maever. "I think that's a wonderful idea," he rumbled. He helped clean up the rest of the food into the basket and then they moved back and he took up the blanket, folding it. He was sure Anna and her family had more to think about than the picnic.

"Besides, I think we've been due to stop by the Mar a'Mael to check in on the children anyways," he went on, rising to his feet.