Quoted By:
"So be a snake." You barely know why you're going on like this. Is it the righteous fury? "You wouldn't say it <span class="mu-i">then.</span>"
He snorts, curling his lip. "It hasn't been 15 minutes."
"It has too. And it wouldn't matter if it hasn't, because you're only this way because of <span class="mu-i">me.</span> So I'm rescinding it. Go back to being a snake."
He looks levelly at you.
"You don't want to."
"I said no such thing." But notably he isn't a snake. "Pathetic, to be reduced to fantasy once again. I hardly know how I stand you without cracking up myself. Are you feeling well?"
"Can't you see my... vitals?"
"Yes. And they inform me you're merely faking disability." Richard strides over and lifts your arm over his shoulder. "Up you go. This place will give you mold poisoning."
You squint. "It will?"
"Oh, yes. Quite toxic, quite deadly. You ought to get some sunshine, or whatever passes for it down here. See the trees. Stretch your little legs. That type of thing." He's got you up and is steering you out the door. "Go do... whatever there is for you to do. Have you been using that day planner?"
It's such a transparent attempt to distract you that it nearly loops around into effectiveness. You're genuinely baffled, to be sure. "...No?"
"Of course not." He shakes his head grimly. "Well, your clothing is atrocious. I suppose that'd be Item #1, yes?"
"I... sure?" Have you caught onto too many of his motives, so he's behaving via random chance? Spinning a wheel? Throwing darts at some unseen dartboard? "I think the general store stocks some clothing?"
"Astonishing."
You don't know what to make of this response, and you're not sure Richard does either: he lapses into muddled silence, and doesn't respond when you hiss his name. He appears to be deeply in thought. For your part, you limp over to the general store, trying not to look like you're being supported by anybody invisible/intangible.
The door jingles when you push it open, and the shopkeeper unslumps. It's a boy apparently no older than 17, though as the placard by the counter helpfully explains, "I AM 31." (The other placard: "FISH NOT WELCOME.") He appraises you, decides you aren't a fish, and waves you in disinterestedly.
(3/4)
