Quoted By:
"I-I guess you'd know, huh? I guess... I-I mean... I'm in this for good. At this point. So i-i-if you're actually going to go off and save the world, somehow, through some convoluted, um... well, I-I-I-I don't know how much I could contribute. But I-I'll be there while you do it. I guess." He pauses. "I-I-I think I can wait on the dying at least until then."
"Oh! Fantastic! And if you do die in astonishing heroic fashion— well, you won't. I'll do it first. That's my whole job. But if you do, it's okay if people are sad about it, because that means they liked you. And cared about you." You pat Gil's arm. "Anyways! We traverse onwards to Monty's!"
"Monty's?"
"Paperwork!"
-
It takes some of the steam out of the 'barging in' when Monty's tent door is already open. He's reclined at his desk, cleaning something with a cloth. He seems relatively calm. Non-strangly. All good signs.
"...Hello!" you declare.
"Huh?" He shades his eyes. "Who is that? Come in. That isn't Charlotte, is it?"
"Indeed! It is I!" You drag a reluctant Gil inside with you. "And also I have—"
"Would that be Gil?"
Gil stiffens. "How does everybody—"
"In full disclosure, Mads informed me you'd made it back with her. I was told you'd be in some kind of 'stripey jacket'— though I expected more insects, from the rest of the description. No insult meant."
"He's insects on the inside," you say firmly. "Not the outside. And he's my retainer, so you better not insult him, or <span class="mu-i">strangle</span> him—"
"Of course." In one motion, Monty sets down the thing he was cleaning (is that a giant tooth?) and slides his feet off his desk. "Well, let me congratulate you on a safe return, Charlotte. You caused a lot of worry among a lot of people, myself very much included."
"Sorry," Gil says automatically. You kick his foot.
"But all's well that ends well, of course. Madrigal returned safely, you returned safely, we have a few new friends—" He gestures at Gil. "I don't know that it could've gone better, frankly. It's possible my assistance would've caused more harm than good."
Ah. He sounds a touch bitter, there. But he recovers so smoothly you don't get a chance to say anything. "In any case, is there something I can do for you both?"
"Yeah!" you say. "Gil needs somewhere to sleep!"
"I wouldn't expect anything else. He's welcome with us, of course— should I commission an extra cot for him?"
"A cot?" You glance over at Gil. "What about a tent? He deserves his own—"
(2/3)
