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Aww, yes!! It’s time to write Acyn again!! XD

Acyn

My friends were all horribly stupid. I was thoroughly convinced of this fact as I had just literally grabbed Sahar by the collar to keep her from storming, full speed, into a dark and foreboding tunnel. Typical.

Liorah and Ferran had already gone inside, so there was nothing I could do about that. Besides, it would be funny to see what kind of a mess Liorah was getting herself into this time.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t I have friends who had a tendency to stay inside whenever possible? Nooo, I had to take care of these idiots who rushed into an unexplored tunnel without so much as looking inside.

Sahar was still staring at the tunnel entrance.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine,” I said. Liorah always landed on her feet. Metaphorically speaking. Literally speaking, she usually landed on her face.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been friends with Liorah for years, she always gets out of trouble as fast as she gets into it,” she said, lightly.

She had shoved her hands in her pockets and was absently flapping them, so her skirt billowed like wings.

“It has pockets?” I asked, knowing what her reaction would be.

She grinned, absolutely delighted.

“Yes, lookit!!” She flapped the skirt even more vigorously, then dug in her pocket and produced a handful of things she’d collected.

There were a few pebbles in odd shapes, shiny beads, hairpins, one or two loose coins, and several indistinguishable shiny objects.

“I didn’t know magpies had pockets,” I said, teasingly.

“Only this one,” she said, happily, then jumped off the boulder and ran toward the person who had been standing near the tunnel entrance. Or exit. Depending on the context. Currently, it was neither. It was a ghost of the past passing. Or some such rubbish.

Her skirt and loose blouse billowed and her anklets, bangles, and scarf jangled like a drawer of metal tools being violently shaken.

With a sigh, I went after her, at a slower pace. Another odd thing about my friends, why did they insist on running? I considered it a positively sinful waste of energy to run unless something was chasing you. And even then…

I was still mentally weighing which would be worse, being mauled by a predator or running, when Sahar skidded to a stop in front of the man and spoke in a positive flood of words.

“Hello, I’m Sahar! What’s your name? It’s nice to meet you! Where are you from and–”

The poor man looked positively overwhelmed and I shot him an amused look. Sahar had that effect on people.

The man was even shorter than Sahar, and I noticed he was on crutches. My eyes curiously trailed to his feet, then I noticed he was missing his left leg below the knee. Oh, that was interesting!

I bit my tongue. I had never gotten to ask anyone about amputations before and I dearly wanted to. But after that other incident, Magister Azriel, the scribe I was apprenticed to, had informed me that it was considered extremely rude to comment on other people’s medical conditions even if I “just wanted to know” and it was “for science.” Imagine! Shocking.

Still, I supposed I wouldn’t have liked it in his place so I didn’t comment or stare. Sahar was blissfully unaware. Or pretended to be, I’d never know.