After his time walking around the front line making drawings of the remains of what had been a lovely field, bubbling creek, sandy beach, or the former healthy/alive young man, he now greatly enjoyed this very type of setting for a walk.  His hand paused as he attempted to push those memories back into the deep portions of his mind.  He had lost himself there for a time due to his work during those years, and still had times when those memories peeked their wicked fingers into his thoughts.

Taking a breath, his brush began moving again. "It could be much worse."  He replied in a different tone than he had been using.  He had been friendly and easy-going previously.  This reply held the tone of one that seen just that, much worse.

As he pushed the mood away, avoiding it, again.  He glanced over at her.  "Nae a lass?  I 'ave 'eard aboot lads that dressed as a lass, but yu are the first one I've met in person."  The young woman did not seem to be a lad, and he was usually better at noticing such details.  Giving her a closer look, he shook his head.  No, she was a lass.  He was pretty sure of it, the shape of her and her manner just made him pretty sure of it.  If she was a he, then he was very good at living it.

He had heard about the heir of one of the Barons back home that was known to wear women's clothing while at home.  It had not bothered him, just something unusual for that area.  Others around the front line had spoken of secret groups that would get together.  He didn't care one way or another.  Though he thought a drawing or painting of such a group might be interesting.  Though with the way some others had commented about it, he figured it would be unpopular to have such a painting out where guests would see it.  He gave an internal grin.  Maybe he should do it.  He was known for drawing/painting the 'real' life he sees.

Nesah actually did quite the opposite. She liked to dress in men's clothes when nobody was watching, and when her brother was in York and the servants were out, she'd raid her brother's closets and have a blessed few minutes in front of the mirror. But she did not understand the language well enough to follow what the man was saying, and even if she would have, she would never admit to something so scandalous, not even before a stranger.

"Lad?" she said. Did he mean a man? She thought it was a metal. Her annoyed frown deepened. "I don't know what you're saying."

Douglas turned around.  Knowing his accent could confuse some folks and given that she had a strong accent different from his own, he figured that he should at least attempt at get it sorted out.  With the pallet in one hand and his brush in the other, he faced her.

"Yu said yu were nae a lass.  That would mean yu are the opposite, a lad.  A mon."  He tried to clarify it.  "Though I dae believe yu are a lass or as it is more common said in this area, a young lady."  He shrugged.  "It makes nae difference tae me, yu 'ave an interesting face now that yu are up close.  Yu should 'ave someone draw or paint it.  Me or nae me."

He turned back toward his canvas.  "If yu ever wish a few names of those that dae portraits, I know a few besides myself.  I dinna live here, but will be here for a few weeks, at least.  If yu would like tae commission me at some point, that is."  He didn't mind either way about that either.  He became more focused on the shape of the ruins and less on the woman behind him.

How she wished she was a man. Her life would be easier in so many ways. But she was a woman, tied down by corsets and the rules of propriety, destined to be 'the angel of the house', some ornament. How dull.

She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat. "Oh... I thought it was... fisherwomen and girls like that..." she said a little embarrassed. She hated the fact that she had few opportunities to practice English. There was no need to speak it with her brother and she had no friends in town, and so the only moments she used it was when she reproached the maid. Admittedly she found plenty of opportunities for that.

She didn't know whether to be flattered or offended when he said she had an interesting face, and she looked mostly skeptical. But when he turned back to his work and paid less attention to her, she lifted her chin a little. "What's so interesting about my face?" she demanded.

He paused and turned to look at her.  His gaze focused on her expression and the struture of her face bones.  He was better with his brush, pen, or charcoal than explaining what he saw.  He shrugged and gave his best. 

"Yu hold yur expression as if yu look at the world apart, 'holding yourself separate from the world around yu.  Nae, more like a shield yu have but invisible.  It makes the structure of yur face not bonny in the traditional typical way, but bonny in a way of its own.  Not cold exactly but nae engaged or nae wanting tae be engaged."

"Yu have an expression in yur eyes.  It shows there is more happening than the physical expression is allowing people to see.  But when I look at yur eyes, there is a lot going on.  Yu nae miss things, I am thinking.  Nae happy things, I am thinking. Or maybe disappointed?  That is the mystery that draws tae me, I am thinking.  What is it that yu see that causes yu tae gaze oot at the world like that?"

"Its that look that should be captured in a drawing or a painting."  He frowned, his intense eyes looking away of her face finally and turning back to his canvas.

She breathed in slowly as he spoke, her lips tightening. She pushed her chin out just a little more to seem unaffected, and yet she felt a light prickling sensation in her eyes, which she hoped didn't show. Her heart was beating in her throat.

Nesah was grateful when he turned his gaze away from her, back to the canvas, allowing her to compose herself. She scoffed. "That's so vague, you could say that about anyone," she sneered at him and reassured herself. "I suppose if painting doesn't work out, you can always become..." she searched for the word, awkwardly aware of how her jibe lost its momentum, "fortune teller."

At her words, he chuckled.  She really didn't know who he was, and he liked that for the moment.  It let him just talk to her as anyone might just talk.  About whatever. 

"Maybe I will.  The question is, woold the person I give a reading for, want that tae be the future or nae?  That is the question I woold have.  What aboot yu?"  He changed the tones of paint on his brush and went to another section of the image before him.

"If yu feel that woold be a future reading, is it what yu want for yurself, or woold it cause yu tae attempt tae change things tae make it nae the future?  Can one's future, if predicted by someone, be changed?  Or is it destined tae be sae."  It was completely a curious question. 

He had made the effort to change his own life after the job at the front line, but a part of that part of his life was still inside him.  The nightmares still came.  There were some dark paintings and drawings that he had not shared with anyone.  Though he focused on calm peaceful images now, there were times when the other kind of images demanded to be given birth from his hands and eyes.

He was curious about what another person might have an opinion on that topic.  Could one really mold their own lives or were they fated to whatever was there before them?

Oh dear, he was becoming philosophical now. What a bore. "Does it matter?" she said sharply. "Most of us are tied to a specific future by the expectations of society - become a banker like your father; live in that area of town, because that's where your own sort of people live; marry that man or woman because it's an advantageous match." And what a bore.

A sweet smile came over her face. "As for my future, I want to marry a wealthy man and be a respectable wife and mother." To hell with that. But she would not tell anyone about her dream of studying and making her own way in the world. Especially not now that the chances of doing so were slimming. She did not need the humiliation on top of the disappointment.

When she asked about if it mattered, he shrugged.  "Depends on if yu want to change the fate that seems tae be pushed at yu by those aroond yu.  If yu dinna then, nae, it dinna matter.  If yu want to avoid that expected lifestyle, then aye, it woold be vera important."  He paused thinking about what she had said about the advantageous match thing.

"I dinna marry unless it is someone that wants tae be with me and that I want tae spend my life with.  Granted, I am nae among the majority on that topic.  But I dinna mind nae getting married at all."  Several of his friends and peers had wondered when he would produce an heir for the title and property.  There were many a young (and not so young) woman that had tried to push their way into his life.  It had been entertainment for a while, now it was irritating. 

"It is easier for the man, I guess."  He reasoned after another moment.  Women did have more pressure in this type of thing.

He glanced over, hearing her words about her own wishes.  "Well, I wish yu joy and luck in that."

He looked back to his canvas.  "From yur accent, yu are nae from this area anymore than I am.  Is it for the look of such a mon?"  She didn't know he was, from what he could tell, so she was not out to trap him into some improper situation, but he was for some reason interested learning more about her.

Nesah scoffed when he said he would only marry for love and was fine with the prospect of not marrying. Easy for him to say. He was not extremely well dressed, but did not look like a poor man either, so he had a reasonable education and money. Nesah had neither. She had been homeschooled, and that had been rather onesided. And though she had managed to read up to a better level, she had no diploma from a fancy boys school to get her into university. And as for money, it belonged to her parents and brothers. If she would not get into university, marriage, and an advantageous marriage preferably, would be the only path to some independence. "Just a little," she said sarcastically when the painter acknowledged it was easier for men.

"That's hardly a strange man's business," she said sharply when he asked if she was here to look for a husband. She took her hands out of her pockets and adjusted the collar of her coat to keep the cold wind out. "I'm here to see family." She looked around and decided it was time to leave. "Well, I should go. Will you keep a studio in town, Mr....?"