“I don’t know why I even joined this fool’s errand,” the ranting began. Unfortunately, so had the first leg of our next side quest, only moments prior.
Everything I had suspected about this Tor’eqe fellow, our party's newest recruit, was playing out before me.
Though I hate to make judgements on appearance alone, (as I often found myself at the mercy of such ridicule and assumptions) this tall, oafish bloke, who bordered on barbaric, behaved in such a stereotypical manner consistent with his facade, I had him sorted before he even opened his mouth.
Cocky, blunt and crude, I could tell upon our meeting that Tor’eqe was often the loudest in the room. I could also surmise that after a few pints, the volume would continue to increase, while his rational conversation skills would travel in an inverse trajectory. Though his intimidation factor, strength, and general knowledge of the area would serve our party's defenses well, I was hesitant to have him join. I feared his less desirable attributes were not worth the benefit he would provide us, overall. The risk you run picking up party members in local taverns, I reckon.
Once again, my intuition had served me well. Most of assumptions I made about Tor'eqe, he was proving to be based in truth. Yet once again, I was too craven to share this observation with the rest of the questing party, for fear of it costing us down the road. This was my first time leading such a quest, the last thing I wanted was blame for being too discerning. Too picky.
As we trudged along, his banter followed.
“And your leader is nothing more than a mere pussy cat,” continued Tor'eqe, with a soft hiss that made my skin crawl. He was now walking directly behind me. “Isn’t that right, Juni-puurrrrr…”
The sneering chuckle that escaped him next was the last thing I could tolerate before I snapped.
I stopped abruptly in my tracks. I’m surprised he didn’t slam his hulking frame right into my back. Then I spun so quickly in place, it must have been dizzying to witness. At least I had startled him into silence.
“Oh come off it,” he said, condescendingly. “It’s just a bit of tongue in chee-" he stopped as dead in his sentence as I had on the path.
Perhaps it was the dagger, which I now held to the corner of his impertinent, gaping mouth, that was keeping him quiet so suddenly.
“And if you use that tongue to offend me or this party again, I’ll be sure to cut it out and feed it to my wolf,” I spat. The expression on my face, I’m sure, was nothing short of scathing.
My gaze traveled down, admiring my favorite golden dagger, then rose again to meet his. “Is that something your heathen brain can comprehend? Or will you continue to insist on assuming the demeanor of others based solely on their outward appearances?”
The frustration, disgust, and animosity I felt burned through my eyes, adding conviction to my words.
This time, Tor'eqe broke our gaze and looked down, at the small, but fierce, dire wolf now circling us as we exchanged words. Wilhelmina, as if to add emphasis to my threat, even licked her lips once or twice as she circled, then gave a low growl.
In this moment I reflected. These were not the emotions of the fleeting moment, but the collective pent up rage from nearly a decade of feeling overlooked, and put in my place, simply for being a kind hearted young woman with a fair visage.
Convinced enough to atone for his rudeness, Tor'eqe looked back up at me, put his hands up by his shoulders with palms forward, and backed away slowly to show his remorse for his inappropriate quips.
I turned back to the rest of the party, and replaced my dagger, muttering audibly, “Well, then. Not just a pussy cat after all. Am I?”
My comment was met with a few snickers and sneers, not directed at me, but for the second hand embarrassment of my adversary. I knew the party would agree: better Tor'eqe know what he was really getting into early on in the quest. Anyone among us could more than hold their own ground, and I felt responsible for making that known. I would not be seen as the weakest link simply because I was a Princess--nor have my leadership skills questioned merely because I was royal. I wasn't leading merely because I was royal. I was leading because it was my mission.
Deep down I truly believed I had what it took to be leading this quest, or I surly I wouldn't feel so strongly about doing so. If I was sure of anything, in fact, it was my dedication and conviction in completing this mission. Davin saw that, I knew he did. And even if it was his borrowed confidence that helped me through some of my greater moments of doubt, I was so thankful for him, as I'd always been.
Davin.
I refocused my thoughts to realize he had stopped to let the others walk past, and was now looking at me, shaking his head.
A smirk crept onto his face.
“Let’s go we’re losing daylight,” he said, directed down the group, encouraging the others to pick up the pace while he walked alongside me, quietly.
I could tell he was proud of me for speaking my mind. He was one of the few who actually encouraged it. But truthfully, in that moment, I think he was most proud of the fact that he taught me to be so quick and skilled with a blade.
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