Event; Don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash

[articulatings]

WHO: Boyd Crowder and Peggy Carter
WHERE: middle of one of the paths
WHEN: October 28th
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: Animal death, TDB
STATUS: Open

---

He takes solace in a few things and a few people while in this place. One of which was far more reliable than anything he's found yet--and that would be morning walks with Peggy Carter. Before the rattle of the kitchen, full with people, gets too loud. It's a quiet, sleepy morning and he can pretend it's a little warmer and Peggy is Ava Crowder instead.

That's not fair to Peggy and he knows it, and that's exactly why he never voices the thought--instead, he offers his arm and they make small talk. Boyd with his words and Peggy with her polished, refined British accent--something Boyd's sure he could get used to hearing all day. It's a pleasant sound, and never leaves his ears ringing. Or maybe that's because he enjoys the other's company so much, it's difficult to tell.

One thing is certain--it's fucking cold. He's used to the fact that this isn't Harlan, even if the morning fog and mist makes him think it is for a few moments. He's homesick, truth be told, and he'll never let anyone know it. Even if he has a feeling Peggy's picked up on that. She's extremely clever.

"Can't say I'm going to enjoy the snow, though I am pleased you indulged my offer on a walk this morning, no matter the temperature," he says by way of proper small talk and is about to say something else when he crooks his head to the side and his brow knits. There, on a path, an animal. A sheep, more accurately--lying on the ground. It would be less alarming if it weren't for the way it's been absolutely eviscerated, and Boyd is fairly certain even at this distance he can see intestines.

He'd cover Peggy's eyes if he wasn't sure she'd seen worse. Instead, he glances over at her, raises his brows, and lifts his fingers to his lips to whistle as loud as he can, the piercing sound echoing as it bounces off of nearby buildings.

Comments

[thekittenqueen]

She scoffed in distaste, "Do you think the 'whys' really matter? How does that change the actions and the cruelty? You can find all the explanations you want, but it doesn't alter the fact that your kind," she pointed once again at Ygritte, "have made a habit of this way of life!"

This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have in front of the village or something that she meant to blow up to this extreme. Until this point, she had made it a point to be kind and welcoming to everyone, no matter their background. And until this point, she had avoided Ygritte, rather than engage with her.

Stress and a horrific death pushed her to her limits and she found her patience crumbling away. She could either panic or react with anger and anger seemed the better option.

"These stories aren't told for amusement!" Which was more of a lie than she would admit. How often had she and Loras been entertained with tales about the far North? "They serve as reminders of why exactly your kind have been kept behind the Wall. Why the men of the Night's Watch have been safeguarding the realm! Whenever Wildlings breach the Wall, it leads to nothing but raiding, rapes and death! How many children have your kind left as orphans? How many farms have you sacked and people have you killed because you can?" She waved her hand in dismissal.

"No one else in this village lives by the same standards that your kind does!" Margaery snapped, stepping closer. "Someone removed a sheep and then carved him up! What a coincidence that there is someone," she pointed once more, "here who is in the habit of taking what she wants!"

[kissed_byfire]

Ygritte stood looking into the face of the woman, expression shifting from irritation to incredulity and finally to ignited fury that was provoked by the other woman's ignorance and pointing her finger twice more. Insults she could take, to an extent. Narrow minded, obtuse Southron folk pushed her buttons to an irrational level.

After the second time Margaery pointed her finger, Ygritte's fist closed into a ball at her side. By the third time, the woman would barely get the words out before the wildling's fist connected with her face in a blinding moment. It was so quick that no one would have had the chance to stop it from happening.

"The why's do matter." Ygritte spat back in reply, taking a step closer to make sure the woman could see her face and eyes. "Us Free Folk live to survive. Because you kneeler's forced us to. Are your lands free of rape and death and murder and orphan children now? I've heard stories of your kind, too, an' how you all lie to survive."

[thekittenqueen]

The sudden impact caught her off guard, causing her steps to stumble until she was kneeling on the ground, clutching at her face. Her eye stung and ached; while she had been struck several times in the black cells, it had only been on her back, arms and head. She hadn't experienced pain like this before and the shock of it was enough to pull her out of her hysteria and panic.

She could hear Ygritte retorting to her accusations, some of them justified and true. For all that was said about the Wildlings, there were still just as many stories about soldiers and common men that would rob and rape without discrimination. The horror of her ram's death had stripped her of reason and sympathy, plunging her back into that place of discrimination and prejudice that so many of her people followed. It was easier to blame the enemy you didn't know than the one you did and she had fallen into that trap.

But apology wasn't something she was capable of, not yet and certainly not now. Her pride had been wounded and she still felt angry. She grit her teeth, forcing herself to keep from replying and making the situation worse.

[articulatings]

He's far too shocked to react as quickly as he'd liked. He'd seen the redhead around, never actually caught her name or where she was from, and she knew the soft girl with the doe eyes and brown hair.

If he's being completely honest with himself, watching them verbally spat is fairly interesting, if not just a tad bit entertaining. The bottom line is that while the two bickering is something he'll let slide, an actual physical altercation is completely detrimental to the situation.

Whatever situation this is.

He's not stupid enough to try to physically stop them--he's no stranger to strong women and how they handle people that underestimate them--but he does purposely step in front of both of them. His hands are raised in front of either girl, palms flat. Hopefully, a disarming gesture.

"Ladies," he begins, southern accent twanging against their different dialects, "I don't believe physical harm is going to be helpin' anyone. You two can sort out your troubles later, but right now ain't exactly the time."