James gave Branna a bright smile, part shy and part rueful as he offered, “I’ve never minded looking like a fool. If I am one, I would dearly like to think I’m an honest one.” Another taste of the delightful stew, and the gentleman sighed wistfully. “It is a bit sad though, for in all honesty I doubt I’ll ever see the beast again. How often can something like that happen in a lifetime, I ask you. And if it does appear, I fear I’ll have no recourse but to chase it because I shall not be able to help myself. The sight of that cuny, darting here and there beneath the brush, leading the trail back on itself, jumping right over… Seeing it, I wouldn’t d be able to do ought but try my best to catch it.”

He looked up at his hostess with a queer look in his eye. “And yet, what if I did catch it? What then? The hounds will have killed one of the most… beautiful creatures I have ever laid eyes on, at my command no less… and that thrill would be gone. The game would be over for good. Where is the fun in that, I wonder. I doubt I should ever hunt again, after that.”

“Still,” he offered with smirk, his gloom dispelled, “Be it a faerie, a witch, or a dream, I should thank her! You speak of hope, laughter, and friendship? And sure enough, what is it she had led me to but you?” James laughed loudly then as he thought more about it. “How does one thank a hare, though? It’s an exasperating notion! Somehow a bouquet of flowers would seem more a meal for her than an expression of gratitude, and I doubt any trinket of silver or gold would easily adore her paw! Feh. I tell you, it’s worse than trying to shop for my sainted mother!”

The meal finished, James pushed the bowl a tad away from himself as he waited patiently for Branna to finish. He would gladly clear the table as he had helped set it. Whatever the extend of her injury, James found he would not have her exasperate on it on his accounting. Yet as she ate, James regarded her by the hearth light. How daring was this woman? Not only was he loathe to think of leaving her company, this person with whom he had felt the closet connection in ages, but she might appreciate helping him with a bit of a joke. There was a nagging sensation that it really wasn’t a joke as per se, but James could not quite nail down the source of that feeling. He decided to table it for now.

As the storm continued to rage and blow overhead, he eventually helped to clear the table to her direction and satisfaction. Quickly enough, he joined her at the table once more to sit a bit closer so that they might share the remains of his brandy. Passing the silver flash to her first, he coughed delicately into his other hand. “It’s getting late enough that I fear I should ask. There is but one bed. I would not drive you from it with your leg as it is. Do you have a spare blanket and pillow, then? I can stretch out upon the hearth.”