Awake

Chapter Seven: Getting to Know You...a little

Chapter 7: Getting to Know You…A Little

As they approached the abandoned shack, the door could be seen ajar, with signs of wildlife---or other possibilities---having infiltrated inside.

Tressa nodded to Kor.

“Go on,” she shooed, “Scope it out for us. Pop your head in and see if anything’s waiting to…chop it off.”

Kor’s obedient tone was a bit too eager.

“Yes, my Listener,” he said, his words drenched with an unsettling enthusiasm, almost kin to that sickening peppy tone of the jester.

Tressa’s tone twisted with distaste.

“Ugh, that didn’t feel right,” she said, “I know we're aiming for you to learn some respect and be more tractable, but that didn't feel good. I think I like a little of your hawty resistance, at least.”

Hearing that, a curious smile spread across Kor's face. “So, you like it a little naughty, huh?”

Tressa coughed, shuddered, then recoiled from the suggestion. “Ew, no! Just…,” she huffed, “Find some middle ground!”

Kor narrowed his eyes at her reaction, but then shrugged and gave a tired reply, hinted with sarcasm. “Whatever, …my Listener.”

“That’s better!” Tressa thumbed up.

Kor rolled his eyes, turning towards the shack.

With a deep breath, he approached the creaking door, narrowing his gaze at the dark slit of an opening, before kicking it open with a loud bang, the door crashed into the wall, before shakily groaning back to a mid-way point.

“Clear!” Kor called out, his voice triumphant, his expression puckish.  

Tressa shook her head, but her voice was tinged with anusement. “Was the door kick really necessary?”

Kor turned to her, his grin mischievous. “Absolutely. If anyone was hiding behind the door, they’re now… intimately acquainted with the wall.”

Tressa’s hidden expression couldn’t be seen as her lens stared at the Nord, but she eventually gave a shrug and a nod.

“Never thought about people padding as a door stop,” she said, “Okay then. Go get us some fire wood.” 

Kor frowned. 

“Opening doors for you. Fetching your firewood,” he responded, “What are you making me into exactly? Your sweetheart?...Should I carry your bags too? Oh wait, you got that funny pack mule doing that.”

“Whoooa, whoa!” Tressa clapped, “I said A little of your resistance.” 

Cicero, who had been standing by and holding the main supply pack, the mule he indeed is, dropped it on the ground and held his hand to his dagger. 

“Would you like me to cut out his sloppy tongue, Listener?” he asked, “Cicero would be delighted to follow your order!” 

Kor grumbled, “Can I only joke if I wear a silly suit too? Come on…Alright, I'm sorry if I over-stepped, my most almighty Listener. And her dashing donkey too.” 

Cicero fingers began to wrap around the handle of his dagger, but Tressa shot a hand up with a halting “huthut!”.

But she didn’t seem to be concerned over the dagger, merely pointing a finger towards the Nord as if correcting him.