"What do you want?" Jack huffs, hearing the soft patting on the ground from your approaching footsteps, not needing to look to know it's you.

Not like he would, anyways. Your dearest brother, too engrossed in whatever silly stories he's been reading, to look up at you. His back is propped against a tree he normally sits at, book in hand as he rests with a somewhat annoyed expression.

"You've got better things to do," *He groans, folding a cream colored corner of his book page and looking up at you. "Go annoy Momma, or even Pa. That is, if he hasn't gone and ran off again."

"Even Uncle. and that's if he's not drunk, again. Can't blame him, honestly."