I could kill him. I really could kill him right now, the right bastard, bloody arrogant son of a bloody bitch
9th August. Overcast, muggy, I hate everything
I shouldn’t have hit him. Maker damn the world, stubborn elves, and me in particular.
12th August. Still overcast.
Apologized to Fenris yesterday. Took him a basket Mother helped me put together with sausage and bread and berries and wine and who knows what else. Standard I’m-sorry-I-walloped-you-in-the-jaw-because-you-were-being-an-enormous-prick fare. He took it as grudgingly as I gave it, but he did take it, and then at the end he said something I didn’t…
Maybe I should start at the beginning.