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Summary
“I doubt anything that comes out of… here can beat what I can find at the capital.” Taliferro made a face, and right as those words left his lips the farmer had appeared, looking to the ‘challenge’ board, and as if some signal or wave had gone out people backed up and away and the two looked at each other.
The farmer stared and just then clouds passed overhead, over the sun and it got awful cold, and terribly blue before the manor. A leaf, parted from a tree whips and spirals between the two men.
“Are you saying my crops aren’t any good?”A succession of Saturdays between the farmer and Taliferro. Zero to four hearts. Two men and their pride.
(update 08/15: four to seven hearts. Taliferro has an infuriatingly charming problem on his hands.)
