Mage Joan
Chapter 37: Take refuge
Gray felt Jamie's friendliness, touched the back of his head, knelt down and held the paws of the half-breed wolf wobbled, and gave a thumbs up and praised "Mott".
Kandy saw the big man's stupid look, couldn't help covering his mouth and snickered, and then came over to say hello to Grey. Gray also had an impression of Kandy. She vaguely remembered that she had accompanied an old man to find Joan in the swamp. Out of the love of the house and the spirit of Wu, she also showed a friendly attitude towards Kandy.
Only the natural shy little Mila dare not get close to Gray, standing behind the bushes, biting her fingers, watching the tall strange visitor curiously and nervously. If Conti had repeatedly assured her that Gray was just fierce and not evil at heart, she had been scared to hide in the black oak tree.
Condy had many problems. Joan couldn't tell a word or two, so he invited everyone into the cabin—the door was too narrow for Gray, and it had to go sideways to avoid breaking the door frame.
The interior space of the cabin is limited. Joan, Kandy, Jamie, and Gray are all squeezed in, which makes them even narrower. Gray has to sit against the fireplace floor and hug Jamie in his arms as if holding a Pet cat. Jamie likes this new friend very much, and shows Grey by shaking his tail in a unique way of hound expression. The fluffy tail swept across Gray's face, making it unable to sneeze, as if there was a thunder, and the roof shivered.
After Kandy was surprised, he laughed. Xiaoshu Jingmila wanted to join this warm and harmonious family, but was a little shy. He grabbed the window with his hands and watched in secret from his toes. His **** eyes flickered.
Joan sat at the desk by the window, did not care about the curiosity of the little sperm on the opposite side, lifted a quill pen dipped in ink, and wrote quickly on the straw paper, chasing himself and Grey today by the lizard men and having to bring The story of Gray going home to take refuge briefly.
After writing, Joan handed Kandy the ink pad that was not dry. Kandy watched it quickly, his smile gradually disappeared, and his expression became more solemn.
"Joan, you better talk to Mr. Tell about this matter."
"Grandpa will not agree that Gray stays here." Joan shook his head, his face somber.
"How do you know if you don't try?" Kandy took his hand. "Go, I'll accompany you! If he doesn't agree, I will... I will cry until he agrees!"
Joan was dumbfounded.
Is there such an operation? It's unheard of.
"Does this... really work?"
"Absolutely works. If you don't believe it, just wait and see!" Kandy put his hands on his hips and his pretty little face was full of confidence, which shows that he usually does this trick in front of the elders at home.
Fact proved that Kandy was right.
After reading the note Joan handed over, Old Tyre crumpled it into a trash can without expression.
"Grey Bag Beasts can't stay in the town. In case of being discovered, your two children can't afford the consequences--"
The old man hadn't finished speaking yet, and Condy, who had already had a good mood, used his tricks and wailed. The cry made a man utterly utterly utterly dark, and it made the hearers sad and tears.
Old Man Tyre had seen this scene before, and he was at a loss for a moment.
Joan's eyes floated out of the window, pretending not to notice the grandfather's suggestion.
The old man, Tell, had no choice but to make a concession in the end, warning Joan and Conti to take strict care of the gray bag, prohibiting it from leaving the woods, and not allowing unauthorized entry into the residential area.
"Thank you, Mr. Tyre!" Kandy burst into tears, rushed to hug the old man, and kissed him in the face.
Joan was stunned again, crying to Condy's hand, crying, laughing, and tears.
...
Afternoon sunlight shines through the open window into the dim blacksmith's shop, and countless fine dust swirls around the light track to form a hazy glowing cone.
A dwarf with an unusually stout figure stood in the center of the light cone, as if standing in the spotlight of the stage, allowing Joan, who was standing in the opposite backlight, to take a closer look at the celebrity in Delin.
Flint Anvil, a son of Poincaré from the Forge Valley of Midgard, has just completed his 150th birthday. He is still a fledgling young man in terms of the life of the dwarf, but in the entire town of Delin You can’t find a townsman who is older and more knowledgeable than him, even if the bragging ingredients are excluded.
Mr. Flint is only four feet tall, his shoulder width is almost as fast as his head, and his thick and strong body gives a solid and powerful impression. The dwarf's proud lush beard presents a cool burgundy color, carefully combed, waxed, and braided into strands of equal thickness, braided with dozens of small and exquisite gold rings. These golden rings collided with Mr. Dwarf's long, steady breathing, and reflected the brilliant light in the sun, like a series of golden wind chimes hanging under his jaw.
Joan's eyes were naturally attracted by Mr. Flint's beard, thinking that even the most vain woman could not modify her hair as beautifully as the rich man's beard.
Flint Anvil coughed heavily and his broad forehead slightly curled up, as if to remind the young master opposite to stop being dazed, and his time was precious. Flint Anvil is a proud dwarf, and if the visitor does not report himself, he will never take the initiative to ask.
The pride of Flint Anvil is not only based on the noble lineage and rich experience derived from the ancient dwarf king in the north, but also because he is really one of the few important people in Delin Town. This importance is first reflected in his Possession of wealth. The best blacksmith shop and weapon armor shop in town are recognized by Mr. Flint. As the most outstanding blacksmith in Delin town, in recent years, he has rarely used his own forging hammer to hand over the two shops to his apprentices. The traditional manual forging process has also been reformed by him with great efforts. Automatic forging hammer driven by water power. In this way, Mr. Flint Anvil can free up more energy to participate in the public affairs of Delin Town Council and Tribunal. With a hard-working style, he has offended some people in the political arena and won more respect.
In addition to serving as a town councillor and court advisor, Mr. Dwarf is more enthusiastic about exerting his talents and energy on another stage. It was with his vigorous advocacy and generous funding that Delin Town set up a "security guard" militia organization. In this small town with more than 2,000 permanent residents, there are no fewer than two registered militiamen. One hundred. Flint Anvil personally served as the company commander and chief instructor of the militia. Every weekend, he put on a full set of forged plate armor and carried the warhammer into the training ground. He taught young people fighting skills, including Mayor Jason. • The two brothers of Dindol’s family—Dick and Roger—inside, the young men in the town who are aspiring to become professional soldiers are mostly his disciples.
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