Young Writers Society

(Say less fam)

“You’re a stranger who just informed me you don’t like me.” Jerica drew herself upright. “I’m not leading you to where I’m gonna go to sleep. Thanks but no thanks. I can handle myself.”

"I don't like you but I like the thought of you being harmed by men or animals even less."

“I wont be.” She also wasn’t going to be trailed back to the room by this surly lady. Sure, worst case scenario would be her waking up Derik and getting her in trouble. But. Well. She didn’t want that scenario. “I’ve held my own far, far drunker than I am now. I’ll be fine.”

Viol tilted her chin up. "How far exactly do you have to go? Is it in town or down any alleyways?"

“Near enough I can get there safe,” Jerica answered non-committally. “But if you don’t leave me be I’ll go off walking that way and keep going til you get bored.” She nodded off to the left.

Viol wrinkled her nose. "I'll leave you be, but only because you've got four knives on you. Watch yourself, girl; don't be an idiot."

“I’ll try my best,” Jerica said flatly.

She dipped her head and turned away down the street.

Jerica turned and started the way she’d gestured, not at all trusting the woman not to try to watch her and not intending on leading her back to their rooms. Besides, a walk to clear her mind would be nice. Give her a chance to sober up some before she had to break into the room. Give her a better shot at not waking Derik up.

Viol eventually disappeared around a corner.

Jerica leaned up against one of the businesses right at the outskirts of town and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she waited to be sure the woman would lose interest in her. Gods it was cold as fuck up here.

Rönn wasn't usually one to travel near towns. They made him hurt inside, physically and emotionally. To draw close to a hearth was torture.
But sometimes he couldn't resist, and after such a long journey north he wanted to see some friendly lights in the windows. His stomach rumbled as he trudged through the thickening snow; he'd eaten an elk a few hours ago and already the hunger was doubling.
He wore clothes now, something he hadn't done in c.enturies The tattered cloak remained, but underneath it were the furs of an unfortunate Skald he'd caught unawares some weeks back. He'd left the fellow unconscious but unharmed on the steps of a farmer's cottage. Ky's bracelet remained as well, tied on his wrist and kept clean.

(Aww look at Ky reforming the old goat)

Jerica was tired of fucking up. Where has she gone wrong? Her dialect? Did that mean she was using the wrong words or the wrong accent? She didn’t know. She couldn’t imagine it’d be the first one — she wasn’t a smart person, it’s not like she had a smart vocabulary. But. Then. Had she even told the woman she was from Rhaebaki? She didn’t think so. Which meant be accent must be even worse than she realized.

Either way, she should have just maintained the lies and gaslit her.

But she hadn’t.

Fuck.

Jerica decided to wander into the woods to take a piss and beat herself up verbally before she went back.

(He's turning sweet)

Rönn was about to move past the village when he smelled a human close by. What kind of idiot was out at this time of night? There were wolverines in this area, and even he didn't fuck around with them. There were other animals, too, and trolls. Though he hadn't seen too many stone trolls recently. Mostly wood trolls, and they'd been wary but unkind.

Jerica relieved herself then washed her hands with some clean snow and dried her hands on her trousers.