Repurposed | Quirrel x Sheo x Nailsmith

Chapter Nine: In Which The Group Takes A Visit To The City

"Sheo," Quirrel called. "Will we be taking the stag?" He'd been put in charge of packing for the trip, seeing as he was the most experienced traveler out of the three.

"We will," Sheo answered with a nod. "I don't think Nailsmith would be very pleased if we didn't."

"I definitely would not!" he shouted. "There's no way you're forcing these old bones to do that much walking!"

"Of course," Sheo said with a fond look in his eye.

"In that case, we should arrive around mid-day, with the majority of our travel time being on the stag. Do you have any idea how long we're going to stay in the city?"

"Not sure," Sheo said. "However long it takes to explore as much as we like." He looked around the house for a few moments before remembering that Quirrel had moved everything around. "Hey Quirrel, did you see a large bag when you were cleaning?"

"I don't think so, perhaps it was in one of your boxes?"

There were the sounds of Sheo's search before found what he was looking for at the bottom of a crate. "Aha!" he pulled out the bag, revealing how large it truly was. With it flat and empty, Quirrel was sure he could use it as a blanket.

"We'll be able to keep all the books we want in here," Sheo said as he dusted off the bag. "I haven't used this baby in quite awhile, reminds me of my time as a Nailmaster."

"Are we all packed and ready to go?" The Nailsmith stood at the door, looking about as eager as they would ever see him.

"Yeah, looks like it," Quirrel said after he had looked through his bag. It was filled to the brim with first aid and food. Once zipped up he tied the sleeping bags to the top, tugging at the rope to make sure they were on securely.

"Then let's hit the road!" Sheo said as he excitedly led the way.

---

Quirrel remembers every bug he's ever traveled alongside. Each bug is so memorable, it's not as hard of a task as you may think.

It's almost as if he'd been a different person for years on end, pretending to be a simple traveler. He'd journeyed through many kingdoms and meet many friends. It's a pleasant surprise to find another bug like you on an abandoned or dangerous road. Under such circumstances even the most closeted bugs become talkative. It becomes easy to bond and share a meal under the lumaflys or glowing moss, easier to fight and find energy. Maybe it was the understanding that you'd soon part ways that made everything much more enjoyable. It didn't matter if you embarrassed yourself or said something wrong, you'd be gone in the morning and would never meet again.

Ah, but the same can't be said for traveling with friends.

"Sheo! Watch the bag! I'm getting squished!" Quirrel heard The Nailsmith shout.

The group had made their way to the stag station and were now getting on board. Sheo and The Nailsmith had been making conversation the whole walk, though it was mostly just The Nailsmith complaining about his feet hurting, (which was certainly funny, seeing as he was carrying the lightest load.)

"Oops, sorry!" Sheo quickly apologized as he shifted over to the side. "Quirrel, would you like a hand?"

Quirrel nodded and took Sheo's hand, being effortlessly lifted on top of the stag.

"You two don't mind me sitting in the middle, right?" Sheo asked. "I wouldn't want to squish either of you if there were a turn."

"Ha, that'd be a way to go," The Nailsmith said with a laugh.

As the stag started to run, the comforting vibrations put Sheo and The Nailsmith to sleep. They both snored but their sounds were drowned out by the pattering of the stag's feet.