>>6142606“Sure did–kicked my damned door open like she owned the place…” Ma explains with a roll of her eye. “Customers greeted her like a princess, but she just planted herself in front of me with the sourest expression I’ve ever seen… didn’t budge until I gave her some food, the brat.”
Lemme guess, you smile, she took off after that?
“And he’s a mindreader too. Amazing.” The bartender says with a laugh! “She waited until the storm died down, at least. Didn’t see her again until the warmer season, and that time it was during a Zetsi Pollen shower. That reminds me–next time ya’ see that old bastard at the potion shop, beg him for an <span class="mu-b">ANTISPORE TINCTURE</span>. You’ll thank me later.”
Sure, you nod, terror building as your mind wonders just what the hell Zetsi Pollen is.
“Or just steal it. Knowing him, the prick’ll probably charge ya’ full price.” Shrugs the Skog. “Anyways, after Volka ate I was sure that’d be it, but I musta’ tripped over her three times before I realized she wasn’t leaving… even after I closed shop I could feel her shadowing me–didn’t have the heart ta’ kick her out, so I set her up in one of the guest bedrooms and… that was that.”
So what brought her to Volkir’s place, then? Seems like she’d fit in better here…
“Oh she did, trust me!” Ma replies with a smile! “For a time, at least. Got tired of her being on bodyguard detail real quick, so I started giving her some simple chores: bussing tables, sweeping the floors… next thing I know she’s slinging drinks, singing songs, armwrestling my customers… you can imagine all the colorful vocabulary she learned, too…” Ma groans. “Things were good… real good…”
But it didn’t last, did it?
“Never does…” Sighs the Skog as she gets to work cleaning another mug. “It was about as busy as it gets–standing room only, could barely hear myself think over the drunken singing and breaking glass… was almost relieved when everything went quiet.” Ma’s eye trembles a bit as she relives the memory in her head–an almost haunted look on her stony face. “That’s when the shouting started. An’ the shoving.”
The bar matron pauses as a shout rings out across the tavern, but relaxes as a round of laughter follows it.
“I still dunno who started it, but Volka was still my-” She pauses mid-sentence. “Volka was a little girl… didn’t look the part when she was about my height, of course, but <span class="mu-i">I</span> knew.”
What did she do?
“What Skogs do best, I s’pose…” Ma shudders, the haunted look still in her eye. “I rushed over ready ta’ stomp some heads–but I got careless.” She pauses at the sound of creaking wood, only to find it’s the sound of her squeezing the mug she’d been cleaning.
>CONTD. 