shivver13 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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tenminutesaday2022-12-19 06:00 pm
shivver) wrote in tenminutesaday2022-12-19 06:00 pm
Entry tags:
Fill: Challenge #142
So, I did almost the exact opposite of what the challenge asked, because I was working on one of my WIPs. At least I got a little of that done. :)
As the Doctor had predicted, the trek to the building on the hill wasn’t long, but the gentle rise had hidden the true extent of the structure. As he trudged through the field and stepped over the expected surprises the herd of cattle had left behind in the grass, it quickly became apparent he’d seen the bell tower of a small church, around which several other stone structures were clustered. A low stone wall separated the pasture he was in from the extensive garden and fields surrounding the religious buildings. He strolled along the wall to the wooden gate, and as he stepped through and secured the latch behind him, the three women in long plain dresses and veils over their heads, each tending a different field, looked up from their work to assess the visitor. The closest to the buildings dropped her hoe and scuttled away through the gardens and into a door.
The Doctor bobbed two quick bows to the remaining nuns and proceeded onwards, not in the direction the first woman had gone but toward the main entry of the priory, the structure built against the side of the church. He’d seen enough of these types of buildings in his travels to guess where visitors were welcomed. Hands in pockets, he swept around the corner to the west face and approached the main door, a plain construction of wood set in an arched stone frame, with a small cast iron window with an iron shutter for assessing visitors before opening. He tugged on the chain bellpull set to one side and a sour chime rang somewhere within.
Presently, the shutter slid open and a pair of eyes peeped out, then closed again. A few clanks later, the door opened and a middle-aged woman, dressed much like the nuns he’d passed earlier, stepped out. Rustling from behind her revealed others listening in on the encounter. “Welcome to St. Mary’s. I am Mother Matilda, the prioress of this convent. How may I help you?” Despite her kind words, her tone betrayed her suspicion.
(Does anyone know if a prioress would name herself as "Mother" [name], or by extension, a nun would name herself as "Sister" [name]? Or are "Mother" and "Sister" titles that other people use to refer to that person?)
As the Doctor had predicted, the trek to the building on the hill wasn’t long, but the gentle rise had hidden the true extent of the structure. As he trudged through the field and stepped over the expected surprises the herd of cattle had left behind in the grass, it quickly became apparent he’d seen the bell tower of a small church, around which several other stone structures were clustered. A low stone wall separated the pasture he was in from the extensive garden and fields surrounding the religious buildings. He strolled along the wall to the wooden gate, and as he stepped through and secured the latch behind him, the three women in long plain dresses and veils over their heads, each tending a different field, looked up from their work to assess the visitor. The closest to the buildings dropped her hoe and scuttled away through the gardens and into a door.
The Doctor bobbed two quick bows to the remaining nuns and proceeded onwards, not in the direction the first woman had gone but toward the main entry of the priory, the structure built against the side of the church. He’d seen enough of these types of buildings in his travels to guess where visitors were welcomed. Hands in pockets, he swept around the corner to the west face and approached the main door, a plain construction of wood set in an arched stone frame, with a small cast iron window with an iron shutter for assessing visitors before opening. He tugged on the chain bellpull set to one side and a sour chime rang somewhere within.
Presently, the shutter slid open and a pair of eyes peeped out, then closed again. A few clanks later, the door opened and a middle-aged woman, dressed much like the nuns he’d passed earlier, stepped out. Rustling from behind her revealed others listening in on the encounter. “Welcome to St. Mary’s. I am Mother Matilda, the prioress of this convent. How may I help you?” Despite her kind words, her tone betrayed her suspicion.
(Does anyone know if a prioress would name herself as "Mother" [name], or by extension, a nun would name herself as "Sister" [name]? Or are "Mother" and "Sister" titles that other people use to refer to that person?)