(123) Westbound – 5

Pete would be working the Inn, maybe even getting goods packed up for a market run now that Braun and Lowil would likely have brought the wagon back from their failed attempt to bring Kre to Sandort.  Pete never went on the market runs, but he did get the horses and wagons ready to go.  Mr. Hadam was the one who led the trade caravans and he typically brought along two or three other adults, mostly the ones that needed to go shopping.

Burning.  Itching fingers.

More recently, Mr. Hadam had been working on getting Gantry to be the co-lead for the runs, but despite the profitability of the venture and the relative ease of the job, Gantry had no love for it.  More to the point, Gantry had no love for work of any kind.  It wasn’t that he was a lazy do-nothing… well, he partly was, but he also easily changed his mind about the kind of career he wanted for himself.

Fire spreading across his palms.

Once, he thought he would be a farmer and settle land west of Fort Cowl, where massive lots were freely available to any willing to sign a service contract with the Tehynshin government.  He decided he needed to practice his skills though, before he was off in the wilderness on his own, so he offered to help out for a summer at the Nevynar ranch, learning the trade so to speak.

Millions of ants biting his hands.

The first day, he realized he was wearing the completely wrong attire for working in a garden.  Instead of changing, however, he decided it would be a better use of his time if he watched Kre doing the work.  Watching was just as good as doing in his mind.  An hour into it, and he was napping under the tree. 

Nose itches… do… not… scratch!

The second day Gantry had the right clothing, but he was upset that Kre wasn’t doing the same work as on the first day, which is what Gantry really wanted to learn.  So, in just a single hour, Gantry had undone all of the work that took Kre a full day to complete so that he could start the work anew.  For his fresh start to the garden, Gantry planted one of each vegetable and considered that a complete victory.  After all, if you can do one, you can do a hundred just the same.

Stinging and prickling all over his hands.

Thankfully, after Gantry left, two of Mr. Hadam’s seasonal caravan hands stepped in and helped Kre rebuild the garden to its former glory.  Mr. and Mrs. Hadam had perfected this technique, where they sent real, actual help to whomever Gantry decided to ‘help’ and then abandon.  Gantry knew nothing of it, especially as he was generally already moving on to the next big thing in his life.

Where was Kitalia!  Hands twitched reflexively, wanting desperately to scratch.

Thinking of Kitalia naturally turned his thoughts to Syonette.  He couldn’t help but chuckle when he pictured the two of them, side by side.  Both completely different physically but wearing the same scowl because he had just said something stupid or insensitive.  Their personalities were similar, which is probably a reason why Kre had such an easy time trusting the Ylveryan.

Intense pain.  Almost unbearable!

“I can assure you,” came the sweet birdsong voice of his rescuer, “you do not want to touch your face.”

Kre hadn’t even realized that his left hand was mere inches from his nose, which itched horribly and needed immediate relief. 

“Ugh… fine.”  Kitalia set down the dark pile of something she had been holding with the shimmering sheet she had taken with her and stepped over next to Kre.  “If you touch me with those infected hands, I will cut them off.  Understand?”  The look of intense seriousness on her face indicated that she expected a response, so Kre nodded and laced his fingers together so that he wouldn’t be tempted to scratch or touch anything.

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