Vestay 17, 642
Much of the day passes uneventfully. Gina wakes us up before dawn when she has a nightmare and screams in her sleep, but other than that not a whole lot happens. Haran spends the morning and most of the afternoon shut up in the outpost’s shrine, communing with the gods. Based on Arenaria’s rather unflattering description of the process, I imagine him drooling on the floor with his pupils the size of dimes. I try exploring the outpost some more to pass the time, but it does little to help me relax. When I give up on that I hang out in the barracks, with Janusz telling us stories of his more exciting experiences as a combat photographer. He speaks in Andrish for my benefit while Gina quietly translates his words into Tenrec for her father, but I’m so tense I feel like I miss half of the stories. I can’t exactly say I’m in the mood right now for stories about being trapped in a hotel by snipers or being chased down the street by angry mobs anyway.
Continue reading “[Fiction] Eleven Days in the Valley, Chapter 7”