[open] the lamp is burnin' low upon my table top, the snow is softly falling

[maintiensledroit]

Who: Benton Fraser, Diefenbaker, and you!

What: Woodworking, guitar playing, ice skating, and more

When: Through February

Where: In Milton, at the basin, in the woods, others tbd.

Content Warnings: mention of animal butchery, hunting, others tbd.

i.

[ Even in this icy weather, it's a good idea to preserve meat rather than simply stashing it, raw, in the snow, and so Fraser can be found in the first weeks of February in the woods, seeking out a likely-looking tree trunk, either fallen or still standing. Once found, he brings tools and begins hollowing the thing out, working steadily with Diefenbaker either lazing beside him in the snow or off in the woods, hunting for himself.

When the log is hollow, he hitches Dief in a jury-rigged harness attached to leather straps around the log and together they haul it back to the house where he's been staying with Heartman. Once back in town, Fraser can be found hammering nails and hooks inside the hollowed trunk, humming quietly to himself as he works. He'd be more than happy to answer any questions, should someone stop by to ask what he's up to. ]

ii.

[ Before he found the right trunk, while he was out in the woods, something else had happened in the early days of the month. Diefenbaker had gone stock-still and focused at his side, and when Fraser looked up, he'd seen the thing that had so caught the wolf's attention: a dog, enormous and mossy, watching them from among the trees.

No amount of calling and cajoling brings the best toward them, but when the dog had begun walking off Dief had followed without hesitation, leaving Fraser to come along or no as he would. They'd followed the strange animal on what began to feel almost like a path through the woods, strangely clear and easy to move along despite no signs of having been cleaned or kept up by man. It was hardly a surprise at all when the path led to a cabin he'd never seen before, sitting empty and cold but neat and sturdy for all that. He'd left Dief outside with the strange dog and gone to look for any signs of life.

There were none. The cabin was empty and mostly bare of supplies, but in the bedroom he found an impossible treasure: an old six-string acoustic guitar, tucked carefully away into its case. Even better, when he'd carefully lifted the thing out to inspect it, he'd found the case contained even more riches: extra packets of strings, a few picks, even a somewhat stiff capo.

Now, when he's finished work for the day, Fraser can be found on the porch steps of the house on Thompson's Drive with the guitar in his lap. On the first evening, he'll be there stringing it; on subsequent evenings someone might hear the rippling sounds of a fingerpicked accompaniment and a pleasant baritenor voice singing along. ]

ii.

[ But the Mountie isn't always in the woods. After an excursion to what remains of the outdoor gear store, he can also be found down on the frozen Basin, accompanied by the hissing sound of his hockey skates over the ice as he makes long loops or short sprints or simply skates backward in long, graceful swoops. Or perhaps someone nearby might hear the smack of a stick hitting a puck and the muffled thunk of said puck driving into a snowbank.

There's another stick and more pucks on the bank, just in case anyone would like to join him in his games. ]

Comments

I

[solitarysoul]

[One one of his aimless wanderings of town patrols Levi comes across Fraser working on his trunk. He watches for a moment before speaking up.]

What are you doing?

ii u///u

[castitas]

[ It's not the first time she's heard music in the air. Sure, she provides plenty of it herself with her nigh-daily violin practices in the Community Hall, but from others — it's mostly Eddie with his late-late night jam sessions when the skies are filled with light. But... this—? This is... different.

She hears it well enough, it's close by — almost like it's down the street as she makes her way back to the Community Hall. She takes the detour, walking along Thompson's Drive in search of the source.

When she realises just who's playing, singing even — she stops, eyes wide for a moment: utterly charmed. Her hands come together, wringing a little in her fluster as she watches. Is she blushing? No, totally just the cold. Totally not blushing at all.

... Gosh.

But she waits until he's finished before she speaks up, shifting her weight from foot to foot shyly. ]

Hey, Constable Fraser. [ STILL NOT TOTALLY BLUSHING. ] You're really good. I didn't know you played anything?

i.

[bestsir]

Out and about one day, Goodsir hears the sound of hammering and goes to look, finding Fraser hard at work.

He's about to ask what the man is up to when he remembers something he hasn't thought of in a very long time: the fishermen of Anstruther smoking herring and haddock.

He approaches, curious, and asks, "Is that for fish?"

ii;

[lanfeared]

[ As much as it remains Lanfear's preference to keep her own company first and foremost, she knows it'll look more suspicious if she doesn't emerge from the house March is generously letting her occupy every once in a while. Selene would look for any opportunity to show her face, to indicate that she can be of use to the small community here.

It's with that reminder hovering in the back of her mind that Lanfear finally sets out on a short walk, even if she feels rather aimless in having an ultimate purpose, uncertain about who she could pop in on for a quick visit.

Fortunately, the music is the indication she needs, a calming tune that brooks invitation all its own, and while Lanfear doesn't often pride herself on an appreciation for art and music the way that some of her fellow Chosen do, that doesn't mean she can't bask in a song when the mood strikes. What proves more surprising is its source, as she rounds the corner and finds the constable seated on the steps leading up to one of the houses, eyebrow arching with a combination of curiosity and amusement.

She'll wait until he's finished the song in question, until the last notes of it ring out in the air, before breaking the silence that ensues. ]

I didn't realize we could add "gleeman" to your list of skills, Constable Fraser.

I.

[goingtobeunwell]

On one of Fraser's hunts for the right tree he happens across another man seeking to gather and preserve meat. Crozier's habit is to keep track of his traps on a little notebook kept secreted away against his chest. He joints down quick notes about whatever animal he's caught and how often he's caught them, but lately his luck's been a little sour, his day's haul a mere rabbit and nothing more. It makes it all the more imperative that he save what he can in case of a late frost.

He pauses as he sees movement ahead and crouches down low.

ii but after the Kate convo

[meadqueen]

[One of the best things about this little community is that there always seems to be music playing somewhere. Randvi follows the sound and is surprised to see Constable Fraser there, playing a stringed instrument.

She listens appreciatively until the song ends, then approaches him.]

You're quite talented.

ii

[lieutenantsteward]

[Thomas doesn't know how to do anything except walk. He's only known walking. He's only known how to put one foot in front of the other on patrol, as he wanders through the snow, doing patrols with Edward and whoever else is around.

The sound of skating on the ice is new, though. It's not something he's used to. People who skate on the ice fall on their ass more often than not.

Thomas can't help but stare over the ice, watching as the man gracefully drives the - puck, is it - into the snow.]

What is that you're doing?

[itio]

[ Jim hasn't been afforded the privilege of a peaceful arrival, or even the time to settle, but he's got the feeling that's the case for everyone who's brought here. Between this and his previous time travel adventure that ended in the worst possible way, he really has been having a rough time, and he never seems to be able to catch a breather for long enough to even let bad news settle.

Processing La'an's death or the fact that she was here for months ends up having to wait, in the midst of the Darkwalker's ressurgence. It's not an experience Jim likes, even if he comes out of it physically unscathed— which is more than what can be said for its victims, this time around. The awareness that this must be the same fate that La'an suffered weighs on him heavily, and he looks especially despondent, even as he finds the address Fraser wrote down on his note, hoping he'll find the man around as he knocks. ]