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Will is doing a little better. There are so many new people and things that he's found himself spending most of his time outside in his tree or with Kate.

The ache in him that's missing Sherwood and home is almost painful as he sits in his tree and watches the world below.

(OOC: I EP finally, the headvoice got shy on me. Fair warning for angst with the outlaw.)

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This gets noticed, but again passes unremarked. Oliver does, occasionally, try not to say the first thing that comes to his mind.

"The reason I asked if you have lay-priests is because I am a certain version of a priest: one with magic, called a Godsworn. God gave His Chosen magic to defend normals against demons and the world's sins.

"Does your land have any magic in it?"

"Nay, milord, only in tales."

And he won't mention Tom for Oliver will think him a demon though luckily he hasn't seen Tom for many a day.

Tom would thank Will, were he there.

Oliver smiles, having no idea that there's any sort of conflict going on with Will. "It is much more fun in the stories, I assure you.

"Magic seems a real force in the lands of many others, too," he comments.

"Oh aye, milord it does. They say tis magic in Sherwood but 'ave only e'er seen 'er gentle magic o'er us."

Oliver is one of Those People. Yes - he quotes poetry.

"Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee,
Whether the summer clothe the general earth
With greenness, or the redbreast sit and sing
Betwixt the tufts of snow on the bare branch
Of mossy apple-tree, while the nigh thatch
Smokes in the sun-thaw."

Will shivers for a moment and that green light flashes in his eyes as the ache of home hurts.

Great job, Wycliffe.

Oliver sobers once he realizes what he's done. "I beg your pardon, young sir. It is a failing of mine, to love words while forgetting their effects."

"Marvelous words, milord, na reason for ye to 'pologize."

Quietly, "Pain does fade, Mr. Scarlett. Becomes easier to cope with. Eventually."

"Aye, milord, wounds 'eal to just scars."

"If tended to," Oliver says in a neutral tone, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Aye, milord, tis kind folks 'ere."

"Such as who?"

"Kate, Marley, Sam, Steph, Clark I think is the one who owns the farm, milord."

"I shall make it a point to speak to these people, then. What do they look like?"

"Kate's lovely with dark 'air, milord. Marley is tall an Irish, Sam is also tall though crazier. Steph 'ad blonde 'air an Clark is tall an a farmer."

Oliver is used to a bit more description than that, but he's aware that not everyone has a talent for it.

"My traveling companion was a metal being, eight feet in height, with burning red eyes and one wheel. He speaks like a man and has a soul - a spark, to use his term - as well. He is called a Transformer and goes by the name of Thrust. A good man and a feirce warrior, which was quite useful on the journey to this place."

Oliver has you beat in the weirdness department, Will.

Will saw Thrust at the pizza party and so nods with some small understanding,

"That must 'ave been quite an 'xperience for ye, milord."

"He saved my life from some," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "water-beasts that had captured me. If you ever travel through Nevada or California, avoid Lake Tahoe."

Oliver would rather not admit to being mystically seduced into diving into the water.

"Went to California I believe, milord, place called San Francisco, tis Fae there."

Oliver knows about the fae - his eyebrows rise a bit. "Oh?"

Will just stands a little straighter,

"Aye, milord, went with Sam an Kate, wished to see if we could aid anyone out there. Ran into some trouble with the Queen but got back in one piece."

"If I might pry some more, what sort of trouble with the Queen? The stories I have heard portray her as beautiful as the moon and madder than any fox-skin."

Will twists at his wrist again,

"She captured Kate, milord an we 'ad to rescue 'er an destroyed part o''er castle."

Oliver's eyebrows rise again - this time he seems rather impressed.

"A great deed, that, though I fear I only state the obvious."