After a quiet— well, mayhap not so quiet— afternoon, the brunette still wonders why her so-called ‘childhood friend’ acted the way he did, challenging me as if t’was the bloody solution to her refusing to return home with him.

“I understand that he could have been perturbed by what has been happening lately in Augborough, I really do,” the brunette states whilst she ravels out the knots in her hair with her fingers. “But was it necessary for him to start a fight with you like that out of nowhere? He has never acted like this before!”

I watch her grab her ivory comb from atop her bedroll, jabbering about the earlier occurrences as she vigorously combs through her brown tresses with it. I fear that she may hurt herself with how forceful she is being with her hair…

“I mean, he was never— ow— one to force me to do something if it was not— ow— in his favor, but it was as if he was a completely different person! The man knows me well enough that when I decide on something, be it well-thou