K'thyri is never sedentary by choice, and the last two days she's been going stir-crazy. She can't exert herself without exacerbating the damage done to her ankle, though, so I drive a hard bargain: if she'll let me drive (and carry her), we can go to the Tavern tonight. Short of sedating her, I can see no other way….
She agrees after a discussion during which the air becomes rather blue. I didn't know Ky had such a fine command of invective, nor that it encompassed so many languages, from Elvish to Goblin and a few dozen tongues in between. To my surprise and admiration, she doesn't repeat herself once, though the tirade goes on for a good seven minutes….
When the sun finally sets, I pick Ky up bodily and take her to the car - my elvensteed Brendan in disguise. I deposit her in a bucket seat and strap her in while she glares daggers at me; then I'm behind the wheel and we're off to the Tavern.
When we get there, it's over to open the door for her, release the seatbelt and harness and pick her up and carry her inside, listening to her bitch every step of the way. I get her settled in a chair, with a stool for her leg, and go over to order our drinks. Before I can get there, though, Raina strolls by with a large mug of something, plops it down in front of Ky, kisses her soundly and murmurs "hush" while Ky's catching her breath.
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