I dislike this.
I dislike this a whole lot.
A great deal is how much I dislike this.
After the debacle that was last week, we departed the Valley of Thorns and headed back to Evan's cabin to sleep away the weekend. It was, of course, empty, and the absence of the oversized Dragon Researcher left those of us who knew him in a melancholy state. Fynn in particular clammed up, only slightly cheered by the return of his mother to his side.
We set the cabin aflame when we left this morning. There'd been nothing left of Evan that we could find, aside from a bloody patch of cloud, so a funeral pyre of his belongings seemed the best way to honour the man. It seemed something of a waste to get rid of all he'd left behind, but Fynn insisted, and given his raw strength and poor mood I decided not to argue much with my son.
My mood was not improved by the presence of Traveller. It was very much dampened by his fucking presence, in fact.
Traveller is an idiot. He's simple-minded, flirtatious, forgetful, utterly lacking in common sense, and NAKED. It took us two solid hours of cajolling to get him suited up in some of Evan's old clothes, and they managed to mysteriously slither off of him way too often thereafter. Only Antonio could cajole his brother into putting his clothes back on, and the stupid orc seemed to enjoy our discomfort at Traveller's nakedness too much for him to ask it of Traveller that often.
"You think that's bad?" Libby hissed as we watched Traveller prancing about on the clouds, nude and scarred and flopping about. "Try spending weeks with him like that. My gods, it brushed me too many fuckin' times."
"It?" I asked dubiously, raising a hand to shield my face as Traveller turned to grin lecherously at my wife.
"It," she spat out.
Yet for all his advances, all his physical might, all his obvious desire, Traveller had not once forced himself upon Libby. He'd suggested, yes, he'd made constant gifts to her, he'd kept her secluded on a mountaintop for long periods of time, but not once had Traveller actually tried to demand anything of her. He'd also protected Libby from many of the beasts of Above The Sky during their time together, for which she was... moderately thankful.
That doesn't mean she likes him. Thank the gods, she detests the asshole. I can understand why. But she can travel with him at least a bit further, as far as the bottom of the Stalk of Rodentia, where we can ditch him and the gypsies and get back on our merry way.
We're proceeding down the Stalk now. We reached the bottom of the clouds just before setting up camp, and I'm very pleased to note that the snows far below have abated. The path back down is relatively clean, though a teensy bit wet. I look forward to the return trip a great deal more than getting up here.
Now, if only I can find an excuse to pitch Traveller off the side of the Stalk...
Sincerely,
Dragomir the Wanderer
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