@moon-yeongjun

Seamus had been up into the wee hours of the morning tinkering in his workshop, unable to sleep because he’d begun drafting plans for another addition to the property and his thoughts had tumbled along from there. Which meant that he didn’t meander back into the main house until the sun had nearly risen, dark circles under his eyes and a leaden weight to his body that he’d not experienced in some time. 

He woke up a while later, around mid-morning. Immediately, he clutched a cup of coffee to his chest like a lifeline, perusing through the plans he’d left on his kitchen table, pleased that his fever dream feeling of productivity had been exactly that. 

Hell, he’d even thrown in plans to make a new chest for the end of his bed to hold the extra blankets and other odds and ends Lachlann used while he stayed.

Stepping onto his porch after such a feeling, however, did not prepare him for the sight of a bloody goat gnawing on some indecipherable sheet of metal propped up on the side of his workshop. 

Seamus had been fiddling around with things outside, trying to keep his mind off of the dream he and the rest of the town had been sucked into. His cough was pretty much gone by now, thankfully, but he still noticed it every now and again.

What he hadn't noticed in a while were where the boys were at. Usually he could hear them making a ruckus and when he couldn't it usually spelled mischief. So, the Scotsman left his tools stacked neatly beside the boards he'd been repairing, shucked off his gloves, and began his search.

He found Louie, of course, fucking around with his bike. He leaned against the wall and watched the boy mess around with it for a bit before speaking up, arms folded over his chest.

"How many times do I gotta tell ye tae keep away from th' ruddy thing, Llewellyn? 'S too heavy fer ya an' 'm nae gonna pick yer arse up off th' ground when it crushes ya."