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perelynn“What do you have here?” Ingrid asks.
Our medic is the only member of my team who could arrive on such a short notice. She examines me, she takes my blood, she checks my reflexes, and finally declares me fine. Now, she wants details on what exactly I’m fine after.
We are in the same village where Hedgehog and I met. As I suspected, most of the mob came from here. Where else could the people come from? There is nothing but mountains around.
Of the thirty people who had been chasing us, about two dozens survived. The rest of them died a horrible death. Long story short, they did to each other what they did to that guy in the hut. The stranger sorcerer must have messed with their heads. One part of me finds it hard to blame him. They wanted to do it all to us.
The survivors tell crazy stories about the demons they were hunting. There is not much Hexenfluch can do for them. The villagers are not particularly smart, and they just had an experience that confirms their wildest fears. I end up picking the smartest ones and giving them the Hexenfluch emergency number.
“Next time you suspect something,” I tell them, “call us instead of going after supernatural creatures yourselves. There will be fewer casualties.”
After checking all the clues (leading nowhere, just as Hedgehog predicted), cleaning the hut (thankfully, not my job), and calming down the locals there is nothing left for me to do here, apart from sitting on the veranda of some chalet, talking to Ingrid and relishing in the fact that I get to live another day.
I tell her the whole story. She is one of the few people who knows about Hedgehog and the gang, and doesn’t have problems with them. In fact, I suspect she wouldn’t mind having a swing with one of them herself. Her favorite goes by a nickname “Raven”. Animalistic theme, I know.
“So,” Ingrid says with a hint of dark humour doctors are so prone to, “you and your sorcerer had a nice walk, then a treasure hunt, then a crazy escape from a mob, then an encounter with a dangerous rival. Sounds like an unforgettable evening to me.”
“That’s not the words I would pick,” I reply, grinning, “but yes, this evening would be hard to forget.”
“I only have one question,” Ingrid says. “Did you have time to have sex?”
This takes me aback. For the first time since Hedgehog and I became romantically involved, we met for a date and ended up forgetting about sex altogether.
The funny thing is, it feels even better this way.
Here is what Ingrid looks like:
Our medic is the only member of my team who could arrive on such a short notice. She examines me, she takes my blood, she checks my reflexes, and finally declares me fine. Now, she wants details on what exactly I’m fine after.
We are in the same village where Hedgehog and I met. As I suspected, most of the mob came from here. Where else could the people come from? There is nothing but mountains around.
Of the thirty people who had been chasing us, about two dozens survived. The rest of them died a horrible death. Long story short, they did to each other what they did to that guy in the hut. The stranger sorcerer must have messed with their heads. One part of me finds it hard to blame him. They wanted to do it all to us.
The survivors tell crazy stories about the demons they were hunting. There is not much Hexenfluch can do for them. The villagers are not particularly smart, and they just had an experience that confirms their wildest fears. I end up picking the smartest ones and giving them the Hexenfluch emergency number.
“Next time you suspect something,” I tell them, “call us instead of going after supernatural creatures yourselves. There will be fewer casualties.”
After checking all the clues (leading nowhere, just as Hedgehog predicted), cleaning the hut (thankfully, not my job), and calming down the locals there is nothing left for me to do here, apart from sitting on the veranda of some chalet, talking to Ingrid and relishing in the fact that I get to live another day.
I tell her the whole story. She is one of the few people who knows about Hedgehog and the gang, and doesn’t have problems with them. In fact, I suspect she wouldn’t mind having a swing with one of them herself. Her favorite goes by a nickname “Raven”. Animalistic theme, I know.
“So,” Ingrid says with a hint of dark humour doctors are so prone to, “you and your sorcerer had a nice walk, then a treasure hunt, then a crazy escape from a mob, then an encounter with a dangerous rival. Sounds like an unforgettable evening to me.”
“That’s not the words I would pick,” I reply, grinning, “but yes, this evening would be hard to forget.”
“I only have one question,” Ingrid says. “Did you have time to have sex?”
This takes me aback. For the first time since Hedgehog and I became romantically involved, we met for a date and ended up forgetting about sex altogether.
The funny thing is, it feels even better this way.
Here is what Ingrid looks like:
