Found:
Worms. Just worms. Wriggly, white, threads in a bucket. Or six. Or ten. I've lost count of how many of the things I've emptied over the past few days.
Rahvic will live. It was, as Dernwynn had hoped, naught but a parasitic infection. All this worry, all this fear, all this blood and shit and piss... for worms!
Hah!
In fairness, he is not the only thing that has me feeling so low right now. His fate is not the only one that concerns me.
I just want to sleep.
I'm glad that he'll be all right. I'm glad that his illness is one he can recover from, although it remains to be seen if he will. He does, after all, have to contend with my cooking during his convalescence. And his own thick-headedness.
I've been forced to forbid the man to tell his friends where I live. He believes that I over-react. They are, after all, his friends and he trusts them. They are not my friends, however. I do not know them. I do not trust them. And even if I did, I'd still not bloody well invite them over!
Socialise with thieves, smugglers, treasure hunters and worse. This I have done for decades, for who else would have been able to give me the information I needed? Who else would have proven so wonderfully useful and yet so perfectly lacking in judgement? But I have never, and will never, be stupid enough to invite them into my house.
We'll see how well he manages to abide by my directive in this. Of course, I'd not actually cut them up and feed them to him if they do turn up on my doorstep. But I might well disown him for it.
I need peace.
Now that one weight is lifted from my mind, I must contend with the other. But how? Do I close myself off to it? To him? Do I try to forget or try not to care? Do I distract myself with other matters? Or just pretend for all I'm worth that it is of no concern to me?
I'll figure something out, but not today.
