Two Crows Watch from the Gallows Tree (part 8)

(How’d it go?!)

“No doubt,” Ky agreed with a polite smile. They were quickly veering into dangerous territory. “It definitely made things complicated, though. I grew up on a farm before all that, which was definitely more relaxed. I miss it sometimes.”

All the time.

(It went good but not as good looking back on it. I got comments on my attention to detail but no one quite got what I was trying to do and advised me to pull the focus elsewhere when I emphasized throughout the story where I was putting my focus. It's about the complexity of one person rather than a particular relationship he has)

"Farming is the life," Tristan agreed. "Simple sometimes, and hard work, but there's not as much of a social aspect."

(Aww I’m sorry, that sounds frustrating!)

“Except with other farmers,” Ky pointed out, then hesitated and added sheepishly. “Well… I don’t know about up here. But back home—“ dammit “er, down in Austraka, we spent a lot of evenings together. Telling stories, singing, dancing, things of the like. I was pretty close with most of my township… it was nice.”

(It's all good, I did get some good compliments on my structure as well, which I appreciated)

"That is nice," Tristan agreed. "We're pretty far removed from our village so there are only two other farms near us, so we don't have a whol

(That’s good then! I had a scientific writing class where we did audible critiques and I was always like pls, pls no, just write it on my paper, pls—)

“That’s sad… sounds isolating.”

(Yikes I feel that. But on paper it isn't as friendly)

"I like it just fine." Tristan shrugged. "That's how I met Liky, and I get to see Mum often enough. And I'm friends with a few farmhands and the like."

(True enough… thankfully this class was filled with my friends that I knew before the class, so they were all nice. The worst part was the imposter syndrome of reviewing for others like ‘omg I KNEW I was a bad writer, look at—‘ haha)

“Oh, do you have a large farm, then? Mine was just me and Papa.”

(The imposter syndrome hits for real
I was writing this story the night before I turned it in thinking "write what you know doesn't apply here at all, what have I done what have I done??)

"Oh no, not very large. The farmhands are from the Pearsons' farm, they just come for errands and the like."

(Hahah moooood — it was funny with my creative writing class in undergrad tho we had to write a short story. It is, to date, the singular successful short story that I wrote lol and it had to be realistic so I wrote it about my roommate who was being a massive bitch at the time and my irl friend gave me good advice and so I put it in the story too and my prof was like “I like this character! Does he really exist?” xD hits different irl than online)

“Ah.” She didn’t have any idea who the Pearson was. Should she admit that? Or just bluff understanding? She hesitated. “Who’s that?”

(Heh, for real.)
(I'm kinda conflicted about posting stories on YWS now because I feel like I'm writing fiction that's too adult for the audience this site is aimed at. And I like irl feedback because I can start a good dialogue.)

"They're a big meat farm that shares a border with my and Lily's farms. Very nice people, but better off than either of us in terms of money."

(Yeah, fair enough you should post this story tho so I can yell at Tarr more xD)

“Understandable.” Ky nodded. “We always had enough, but had to get help from friends to able to afford taxes.”

Zander had slipped Myrond money more than once to cover the Ruiarcs’ taxes when Petrir was being too bullheaded to accept his help. But Ky didn’t need to know that. It was better for her to remember her friends as generous.

Because they were. They freely bargained with her far more than was a fair trade. But they still got a bit of help, to help Petrir.

(My friend, I have not actually written a full anything for this story in a long, long time)

(My past four stories have been contemporary literature dealing with shitty old men living shitty lives, plus another story dealing with an elderly lesbian couple whose AC is broken in summer)

"My foster mother handles taxes," Tristan said with a shrug. "I'll have to handle them when Lily and I are married..." He glanced at Lily, turning red and smiling slightly. "If she says yes, when I decide to ask her, that is. But for now, Mama handles the taxes. We've had a couple scary years but for the most part we do just fine."

(Haha valid. Honestly I juuuust now picked my novel back up since NaNo… been so addicted to this one xD more dopamine from a notif from this than a blank word doc)

Ky smiled slightly at the awkward giddiness, and nodded. “There’s time to grow into taxes, I suppose. They’ll always be there.” She joked.

(For real dude)

"Heh, unless we can get the King to abolish them. I should take that up with Uncle Gaius," he chuckled.

Ky flashed a nervous grin. It somehow seemed far more dangerous to joke about the king and the nobility when she’d actually met both. When she was in a Keep, not as a slave. Hell, she’d only been in Makata’s mansion three times — once when the soldier asked permission to execute her, once when Aleth wanted to corner her, and a third time when he assaulted her. She was reminded, once again, how out of her league she was here.