tea

Had he traded a father who wouldn't listen for an uncle who doesn't either?

Aren visited the Kolten family house, for want of something better to do. He'd been with Tosie earlier, which was good, but had begun to feel lonely and bored since then.

Yesterday, in the evening, I was at Mr. Brablo’s library.
Upon arriving, I was actually quite shocked: I found him sitting down in his chair, sleeping. Waking up, it seemed as though he had slept since noon, or so, but I did not say much on the matter: his sleeping habits are his own, of course.

It was yesterday that I had visited Mr. Brablo’s home.
His burrow was grand, and every piece of furnishing inside seemed to bring the other pieces together: paintings, sculptures, and maps. Several bookshelves lined the walls, also, which sparked a great deal of joy in me – I was standing in the burrow of an author that I admire, and everywhere his books were.

 Spiders. 

     I hate them. Foul eight legged creatures that are better hiding in their caves than out in the light. I found myself in the north of the Trollshaws when I stumbled into a nest of them. Skittering on the valley floor, I watched them keep their nests clean of bones and debris from their last unsavory meals. Chittering amongst themselves assaulted my ears to the point they could bleed. Of course that did not stop me, but this was one of those days that came close to.