17th of Searing 4614
It had been an interesting three days. Andros couldn’t quite decide whether having Miki for a traveling companion had been a good idea or not. There were some distinct pros and cons.
For one pro, she was useful. She helped him unload the cart and set up the tent, she led the animals to water, and she found a berry bush just off the road that provided a whole day’s worth of snacks.
For another, Miki was good company. She had lots of stories and wanted to hear his. The more he learned about her, the fonder he grew.
And for a final pro, being around a beautiful, very striking woman who seemed to like him gave him a rush. It was impossible to deny that he was infatuated when they were spending so much time together. He hadn’t breathed a word of it because he didn’t know how to handle it, but he had the sense that Miki knew. He felt guilty and excited at the same time whenever she brushed up against him or their hands touched.
Those were big pros, but there were some real cons. Miki’s manners and habits were odd. Of course they were, she was foreign. So was he, but he was used to Radenor by now and had adapted. She was, if anything, even more foreign than he was, not just from another realm but from outside the world of Atharen itself. She made jokes he didn’t understand, used unfamiliar words, even ate things he found taboo. It made it harder to get to know her, even if he knew he ought to be patient with their differences as others were patient with his.
And, as much as he thought he ought to be above such judgments, she was simply too…manly. She insisted on chopping wood. She demanded to stand guard duty when they slept in a forest she deemed dangerous, marching back and forth past him with her gun. She used foul language and kept spitting off the side of the cart. And while he understood that women had the same bodily functions as men, did she need to belch loudly after every meal.
As the campfire dimmed and the embers gleamed red on their third night on the road, Andros watched Miki pick her teeth with a knife. No amount of boorish behavior could make her less beautiful, especially in this light where her skin matched the light of the dying fire. Andros sighed, not sure how to feel.
They would reach the next Guild Tower the following day and presumably go their separate ways. Part of him was glad to get back to his ordinary routine. Another part was grateful for her company and didn’t want her to go. And a third wanted more. Not necessarily to take the woman to bed, though he did want that, but to make a more personal connection. Their conversations had been so superficial during this trip. He felt like he didn’t really know her.
They’d been sitting in companionable silence for some time when Andros decided to make a gesture. She might not appreciate the significance, but it meant a lot to him.
“Miki, I have one bottle of wine I brought from home left in my pack. You can’t find real wine anywhere in Radenor and I’ve been rationing it carefully, saving it for a special occasion. It’s excellent stuff and I’d like to share it with you tonight. Would you like that?”
