“Go away!” she cried, though her voice was soft enough for only someone in the room to hear. “EVA SAN!” she groaned again, though this time, she actually recognized the voice. Farmer Jim was someone she had been acquainted with rather one too many times while she stayed in Marigold. He had a voice that was somewhere between a squeak and a whine, both very annoying and very loud. She heard him cry for her one more time until there was loud footsteps coming up the stairs and the inn owner lady’s voice yelling at the man to get back. “EVAAA” he knocked on her door urgently, almost throwing the old door off its hinges.
With a sigh, Eva threw the pillow to a side and sat up again. Rubbing her temples, she cast an irate glance to the still being pounded upon door and threw the blanket off her. “For the love of,” she muttered under her breath but managed to mask her irritation in time to speak the next few words, “Give me a minute, Jim san”. Grabbing her white silk pants from the corner of the bed, she pulled them on, ran a hand over her untamed hair, and quickly ran to the bathroom to splash some water on her face.
Farmer Jim was once again at the verge of crying when she opened the door, looking down with beads of tears lining the corner of his eyes, looking sad and impatient all the same as he tapped a foot on the wooden floor, his hands crossed over his chest. A couple of steps away from him stood the inn owner with a frown, glaring at the short farmer for barging in. At her presence, Jim instantly lunged forward, prompting Eva to reflexively put a hand out to stop him, leaning back with wide eyes. “Wh-what?” she asked while trying to keep the old man off of her.
“It’s the wolves!” he cried. “My sheeps are being killed! Eva san, do something about it!” he sobbed, flailing his arms around. ‘Ah,’ Eva thought. She had a rough idea on what was bothering the old farmer this time but, looking down at her pyjamas, she was in no way ready to kill wolves.
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