bending_sickle | I am too young to be called wise and I am too old to be called young.*

Today's Word Count: 2229

Novel Progress: Chapter 8 in progress. Booze has been had, leaving us the Abandonment Issues.

Current Emotion: My Brain Is Sludge

Kili’s grin turned rougish. “I’m seventy-seven,” he proclaimed.
“Balderdash.”
“I am,” insisted Kili. “Born in twenty-eight sixty-four.” He lifted his tankard, still smiling, and added, “Spring.”
Grace took a swig of her ale. “I don’t know when that is but I’m still calling bullshit.”
“Fili will be eighty-two at high summer,” Kili continued.
Grace leaned over the table to catch Fili’s eye. “Are you going to let your brother lie to me like this?”
Fili shrugged. “He’s not lying.”
Suddenly Grace’s cheeks were too hot. The playful smile dropped off her lips at the same time a weight splashed into her stomach. She straightened in her chair and eyed the other dwarves who had been following their conversation. Balin nodded at her.
“Seventy-seven?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Makes me older than you by a long shot, right?”
“Makes you older than my dad.” Grace stared at him. “You’re as old as Pop.”