thanksgiving is, after all, a word of action [set on 11/26]

[triskehale]

Thanksgivings in the Hale house used to be quite the big deal. Feeding over a dozen werewolves, many of them teenagers was no easy feat. Derek loved all the chaos, and he helped out in the kitchen since he was old enough to stand on a step stool and reach the counter.

The first year after everyone died, he and Laura each got a rotisserie chicken and some biscuits, trying to hang on to some semblance of tradition, but the food tasted like ash. Laura went to bed early, and Derek pretended not to hear her cry. They stopped trying to do anything for the holiday after that.

It's been almost a decade since that disastrous attempt, and a few months ago Derek decided that he wanted to try again. While Laura and the rest of his family will always be the cause of this gnawing ache in his heart, Derek has a new family here in Darrow. He has so many people that matter to him, and care about him. It's more than Derek deserves, or ever thought that he would get, but he's grateful. He's thankful.

So he decides that he's going to do his best to put on a Thanksgiving of his own, and invite his new ragtag sort of pack. His new family.

The invitations go out and on the big day, Derek arrives at Semele's just after dawn. He puts two giant turkeys in the oven and quickly sets up the long table and chairs in the middle of the bar. With each chair he places, Derek marvels over just how many people he has in his life. It's astounding to him, and it's the perfect day to show his gratitude.

And then, all that's left to do is cook. And cook, and cook some more. If he's lucky, he'll have time to go shower and put on something nice before all his guests arrive.


[Hale pack Thanksgiving! Treat this as a gathering post. Tag in, tag around, give thanks! ♥]

Comments

[light_of_the_world]

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but it was a hard thing and her face reddened slightly with the strain.

"No," Hild said, shaking her head. "You need beard for this. But women love a man with a belly." She grinned. "They are easy to control."

[shuck_you]

"Well, then that's out because I can't grow a beard to save my life," Thomas said, rubbing his chin and shaking his head. He'd spent weeks in the Scorch without a shaver and all he'd come away with was a few wisps of hair on his chin and some erratically scattered hair new his sideburns.

"So, no beard, no belly, and no being controlled by women," Thomas decided with a nod. He tried to imagine himself looking like a chubby lumberjack and couldn't do it. The Scorch had made it nearly impossible to look well fed and full what with its scarcity of food but Thomas could see how easy it'd be to over eat in Darrow. "Guess you'll just have to content yourself with how I look now. Doomed to look twelve for the rest of my life."

[light_of_the_world]

Sighing heavily, Hild cast her eyes upward, thoughtful but also in part beseeching, hoping for some kindly intervention from the gods. None coming, she dropped her gaze down to him again, pouting heavily.

"It pains me," she said, keeping her voice even. "Your face, it pains me. But if this must be, then this must be."

[shuck_you]

"My face pains you?" Thomas repeated, laughing. He touched his face, fingers to chis cheeks, chin, forehead and ears before dropping them and sighing in a long suffering fashion.

"What could I possibly do to make my face not pain you?" he wondered, still amused. "I wouldn't want you to ache every single time you look at me."

[light_of_the_world]

Hild considered this with a tilt of her head. She pressed her lips together, both to show dissatisfaction and to hide the smile that wanted to grow.

"Beard would help," she admitted. "But, maybe, if you grow your hair long." Hild pulled lightly at the hair about his temples, his sideburns, pulling the strands forward. "Yes, maybe this is less painful. Not so pretty then."

[shuck_you]

"I don't wanna grow my hair long," Thomas said petulantly. He kept his hair short because it was easier to manage and it had been practical back in his world. There weren't any convenient places to get haircuts and longer hair met Cranks could grab for it easier, have just one more handhold to keep you near them.

"Short hair's easier to deal with on a daily basis for me," he went on, shaking his head. "I wouldn't know how to manage long hair. It'd just be a mess and I'd get frustrated and cut it off with a knife or something. Short hair's fine. I think you're just jealous of how I look so pretty."