Aveline jumped slightly, she had been so engrossed in the article and trying to make the horse run with her eyes that she had not heard Father O'Flanagan come up the stairs of the church. Not that she found the man intimidating in the slightest, he had saved her life and continued to support her through the church. And while, for a moment, she was worried he was about to chastise her for rushing through her chores, she could see the sorrow he was trying to keep hidden. 

He had begun to talk to her, about the deceased miner. Aveline knew her speech would be too slow and clunky to have an honest conversation with the man, so she simply keep quiet. She did, however, raise her eyebrows and shake her head slowly when he mentioned knowing the miner personally. She had not known they had such a history together. It made Aveline's heart ache for the Father, no wonder his sorrow was so powerful. 

The two sat in silence together for a moment. Aveline wished she could say...or do...something to comfort the man, but she did not want to make the man uncomfortable, or overstep any boundaries. Before she had a chance to overthink any more he began speaking again. 

His question was an interesting one, and one she did not think she could answer easily. But it soon dawned on her that Father O'Flanagan did not need a response. He was talking, musing, probably trying to make sense of the events that had taken place. And while Aveline was not a great speaker, she prided herself on her listening skills. If Father O'Flanagan needed someone to listen to his sorrows, she would be here. 

But then she watched, with a slight frown, as Father O'Flanagan readjusted his clothing and tried to make himself sound...normal. He had snapped back into his persona of a town leader, although his pain was still evident. Before he retreated into the church he had mentioned how nice of a day it was. Aveline nodded, and watched as the man hurried into the dark interior of the church. She turned away, knowing she was again alone before she attempted to speak. 

"B-B...B-ea-e"

Was all she was able to accomplish before her stutter took over, ripping the word [i]ibeautiful[/i] from her lips. A dark blush began to spread across the woman's face as she tried again to make the pictures of the horses move. She was just thankful Father O'Flanagan was not around to have experienced her inability to say even a simple word. She turned to the next article. 

Perhaps later she would have to find some flowers, bring some brightness and color to his office.