“Two weeks,” William repeated with disbelief. “I lost two weeks.”
Erin kept trudging through the morass of dead fake-leaves, kicking half-rotted clumps as she went. “Yeah, well, like I said.”
“And all you’ve done is make up for losses this past week.”
“Yes,” she snapped icily. “Because I was handling the colony by myself. Which you know. Because you went into the woods, alone, and got slimed.”
“Are you blaming me for getting frozen into a statute for two solid weeks?” The disbelief was evident in his voice, which rose in both pitch and volume until it echoed through the forest.
One of the younger guards turned around to glare before an older man with similar features but a better beard – his brother, most likely – cuffed him on the shoulder.
Erin felt a wash of relief that William hadn’t seen the breach in discipline and promptly started questioning her judgment in awakening him at all.
“I’m saying the rhodira, the damn colony leader, the person in charge, should know better than to wander off alone without leaving so much as a note,” she hissed. “We finally had a break in the weather long enough to get you, and the camp’s undermanned, because the harvest isn’t in yet.”
He puffed up his chest. “I was awake after being slimed, you know. Stunned, then frozen in place, but alive! I could feel everything.”
She stopped kicking the debris and turned around slowly, sensing the guards’ fanning out to surround the pair. The young newbie edged behind William, carefully two paces from the surrounding men.
“You. You did this on purpose. Knowing you’d get slimed. Timed for good weather, so you wouldn’t suffer.”
“Well,” he blustered. “A leader has to know how to show empathy. What better way than to experience getting eaten by a giant slug and turned into a statue for myself?”
“The balls,” she spat. “The sheer nerve to waste effort and resources on propping up your ego.”
The guard behind William coughed gently, leaning forward on his spear. “What is your will, rhodira?“
“To go home, obviously.”
“I’m afraid I was speaking to the rhodira, Goodman William.”
She accepted the teen’s audacity this time, grinning without mirth. And with teeth.
***
This week’s prompt was possible with the generosity of Leigh Kimmel: All we did this week was make up for the past two week’s losses.
My prompt went to Padre, with raining dragonlets. Check it out over at MOTE!
