" heading to work&*! " ( kade introduction )

For Elliot, morning was never signified by the light of dawn, swelling in the East and trickling down to rouse the sleepy townsfolk of Niall. When the moon was still bright in the sky, before the crescendo of the crickets' symphony, when the air was still biting enough to see breath; this time of the night, before the dusk receeded into the dawn and the slumbering citizens were still wrapped in the allure of dreams, was when the young lady felt the most at ease.

She lay in bed for a long time, staring at the honey-tinted wood covering approximately half of the floor of the room she and her sister shared, bunching the sheet up and over her chin to fight off the cold seeping in through the covered hole that would eventually be a window. Her nose was red and tingling and Elliot brought the blanket up further, her eyes the only remaining part exposed to the chilly atmosphere.

Working up a nerve she had not used in quite a while, Elliot flipped back the covers and plunged herself into the arctic open, her nightgown doing nothing to protect her from the frigid temperature. With as much of a silent haste as she could bring her numbed feet to produce the dark haired woman tugged off her night wear, and tucking it into a tight square, she dropped to her knees, swapping the square for another consisting of day wear from beneath her bed. She was back up and dressed within an instant, and slipping on her leather boots, Elliot allowed herself a long stretch, basking in the glowing rise of temperature that came with insulating clothing.

Her night vision had kicked in by then. Swimming in a hazy grogginess she tiptoed around her little sister and through the unfinished archway, crossing into a tiny hall coated with a light layer of sawdust that turned almost invisible in the dark of the true early morning. The worn sole of her left boot caught in a larger pile, and like paper on ice her foot slid out from under her, nearly sending her body crashing to the ground in a noisy heap. Now breathing heavily and clinging to the wall she slid to the staircase, taking an unfamiliar utmost care to inch down the descending steps.

The main floor was even cooler, plummeting at the very least ten degrees. There was next to no insulation on the ground floor; thin walls, and a floor of cobblestone like ice to the touch. Elliot openly shivered, goose bumps rising on her arms as a draft felt along the sillhouette of her body.

The front door hung wide open, swinging back and forth in what seemed to be a teasing gale.

"Damnit!" Elliot hissed, her face twisting into a snarl of frustration, rubbing her head in a rather violent motion. Once again the entrance had failed to click shut, and was now permitting entry to whatever shifty character had the gall to walk into someone else's home. Taking a running start, she threw herself against the hatchway hung ajar, a whoosh of air rushing in and muting the otherwise loud bang that should have resonated.

Silence filled the air once more.

---

Breakfast was, too, a solitary affair. The horizon was stained a rosy pink, looking at it now from the splendor of the bay window proving to be the only glasswork in the entire house complete. Moving had not been uneventful, nor had it been anything bordering enjoyable. Elliot could not have said she had left any friends in the process; but that home had been her home. And so far, it had got them no where save a half-finished abode and a slightly bigger bottom floor for their shop. The nights were cold due to the gaping holes where windows should have been; the floors creaked; doors, not yet adjusted to their optimal fit, stuck in places and refused to stay closed in others; worst of all, back-alley cats were able to find refuge in the warmer living floor, every now and then popping up amidst their daily routines - to the glee of Serene, the youngest of the family, but the utter revulsion of her mother.

Elliot was the worst of them, griping consistantly about their quarters and dropping heavy, guilt-inducing hints that home was not quite fitting in with her idea of a good life. The existing was peaceful here; but existing was not the same as enjoying.

Her family was still sleeping in, something that almost disgusted the girl as she stood up to wash the plate that held her pancake minutes before. The blinding sensation of too much light signified the end of her couple hours' serenity. Morning, by definition of the majority, had arrived.

The air still hinted of the clear cold that lingered in the sunlight before warming. Hair now pulled back in a hastily-put french braid, she crossed the threshhold of the entrance to the building, turning to lock it and tucking the strange iron key in the leg of her right boot. There had to be a carpenter somewhere in the vicinity of the markets - or at the very least something of the like. Her feet carried her in a slow canter, all the while keeping a sharp look out for anything that may help temporarily with some of the defects of their fixer-upper.

As the law of luck goes, she found herself running by the quant operation of a little furniture store; open, by the looks of the way the door was cracked. That, or these people had their house built by the same lazied contractor as Elliot's.

But in fact they were open. A warm draft drifted from the interior of the charming shop, and like a moth to the allure of a light Elliot found herself slipping through the threshold, her body tingling with gratitude at the luxurious temperature that had not yet conjured itself since moving. She breathed heat to the hands she now had cupped against her mouth, speeding the rate at which her chilled hands thawed. For the first time since waking up, her unattractively-reddened nose began to lose its tingle.

Winter really was an awful season to pick up and move.

She moved now with confidence, her expression content and touching on haughty.

The floor looked much like the hall outside her bedroom; a layer of fine sawdust sprinkled the surface, though the floor here was cobblestone. there were furniture pieces everywhere, half finished to the beautifully intricate. Toward the back, Elliot noted a young man, slaving away over a wood piece of sorts.

"Excuse me. I need to know if you can help me," she called from across the room, hesitant to step further in, hand still touching the frame of the door from which she came.

The cat was a curious little feline. She watched as the creature pawed with gentle selectiveness across the floor strewn with debris, careful to keep itself immaculate; vain by divine design. It was stepping forward with hindrance, calculating this unfamiliar girl with a tilt of its triangular head. The quiet question in its melodic mewl was almost understandable in a language all its own - the glint in its wide eyes possessing a characteristic that was almost human.
She refocused on the boy in the back of the store, who's attention had in turn been trained on Elliot.
"Sure, what can I help you with? Finished, unfinished piece?" She shuffled in further, sliding her feet rather than lifting them, two clean streaks on the floor where her feet pushed away parts of the thin coating of sawdust. Her expression morphed from initial curiosity to professionalism. Her fingers pinched at the fabric of her pants - her knees locked, back straightened.
"Not furniture. Well... I-- we just moved here. From a little district about forty or so miles to the north. Maybe you know it," she furrowed her brows, shaking her head. It was unlikely.
"I don't know who was in charge of carpentry here, but we got the short end of the stick. The moron obviously didn't know what he was doing," she continued, the last sentence a muted mutter.
"Most of the windows still haven't been put in. There's framework exposed in places. It's like living outside, what with the temperature dropping at night. Our home, I mean." her fingers were caressing her temples now, agitation threatening to show; she took a breath. Lately it took no more than a minute negative thought to set her off. Elliot gave the boy a moment to take it all in.
"I'm tired of watching my little sister shiver through the night. Truthfully, I'm tired of this whole town - if that carpenter is any representation of who the 'great merchants' of Niall are, I'm not impressed." she continued, throwing in a glare at the clerk for good measure. It wasn't exactly a fair gesture; but why should she be fair?
"I don't know what you can do to help. At the very least, I'd appreciate something to board up the windows. Plywood, tarping, anything. I can pay for this; I'm just coming because my father's too non-conflictual to deal with this on his own." she finished her word-vomit of a speech, eyes now narrowed in impatience, though the only delay was of her own creation. Her arms crossed defensively over her chest and she shifted her weight, favoring her left side.