Having decided that we had been in the Great Lodge of Suri-Kyla for long enough, Aakusti and I departed a few days past. After the time spent in that great sweat lodge, we had almost forgotten just how bitterly cold it is outside. Coming from the south it is not so bad for one grows slowly accustomed to the frigid conditions along the walk. To walk out of a pleasant warmth and into the icy air, however, is another matter entirely.
After much hard walking, made even more tiring and difficult by newly fallen snow, we made it to Kauppa-Khota, but not entirely without incident. There were gauradan along the path, as I had expected, and I was forced to stand back and watch whilst Aakusti took out his frustration on those vicious wildmen. My dislike of violence remains as hardy as ever, but I did manage to take some comfort from the fact that his kills were clean and as merciful as he could make them.
Exhausting though it is to break through miles upon seemingly endless miles of freshly fallen snow, I am thankful for it in some ways. The energy we expend on walking leaves little room for chatter and that is a good thing. Whenever we have a moment to pause, to rest, to wait, he always finds a way to compliment me. His words are kind, but I never truly know how to respond to them. In most cases I would go with cold indifference or scathing sarcasm, depending on the manner of the one speaking them to me. He seems sincere in what he says, which is a bother in itself. Not only do I not agree with it, but I am all too aware of his intentions toward me to allow myself to believe that he says them without an ulterior motive. He is trying to charm me.
If that is the way of things now, what will he be like when we have returned to Bree-land and I spend time teaching him the ways and language of what he refers to as the Bree-tribe?
