Stuck in the middle

In the Great city of Veral Ski, Esmiralda and Seymuhr are looking for their companion, Broo Fang Tane, an Optimist Monk with a short temper and a talent for violence.

"We haven't seen any broken bodies yet. I suppose that's a good sign."

Seymuhr scowled, jostled by yet another body. "That depends on your point of view," he said. "There are far too many people in the world anyway. I can't even fart without sickening a crowd."

"Yes. Well, you could say that no matter how many people were near us." Although, in truth, the city smelled bad enough without his assistance. This close to the market the smells of exotic cuisine helped alleviate the stench of people and waste, but I already longed for the fresh scents of rain-washed trees.

Seymuhr grunted. "Let me guess. You are already missing the forest, the plains--some meandering creek filled with smooth stones and happy trout?"

"I didn't say...."

"Yet just yesterday you complained of a bed of rocks, dirt that caked your squeezlies and your hair and your toes and your..."

"My what? 'Squeezlies?'"

He nodded and looked up at me, holding his hands to his chest and flexing them. "You know what I'm talking about. Would you prefer I call them..."

"I would prefer that you did not mention them at all," I snapped. "Or look at them or even think about them." I pulled up my shirt and turned from his gaze. I could still hear his coarse chuckle, though, and felt my face redden because of it.

"My point, is that you are rarely happy with where you are, only where you were or where you are going. I don't think I've seen you smile more than twice since you joined up with us."

"Oh. Joined up, is that how you look at it? You threw me over your shoulder and carried me off into the night like a string of pelts and thrust me into battle with giants, long-vanquished pirates, horrid walking corpses, fed me spiders--how could I resist?"

"You could have left."

"You could have left me! Where you found me!"

"Broke, lonely and unhappy," he nodded. "I could have. But look at you now?"

"I am still poor and unhappy."

"But you have me," he said with a lopsided grin that I suppose he thought was charming. "And Broo Fang Tane. And a purpose and a story to tell!"

"You're not exactly helping your argument," I mumbled. I had to admit, though, there were some comforts to his companionship. A woman on her own in Korin was usually thought of as an easy mark and, although I prided myself on my ability to take care of myself, having a man thick with muscle and an unpredictable nature at one's side was enough to deter some of the more casual ne'er do wells that, no doubt, cast their appraising glances on me as we walked through the streets.

"Would another battle poem help?"

"Certainly not!"

He snorted. "The sooner you realize it, the better off you'll be."

"Accept what? Your poetic talent? I'll need a lot more convincing."

"No. We're never where we were and we'll never be where we're going. We're all just stuck in the middle and need to make the best of it. It's the same for all of us."

I was about to retort, but snapped my mouth shut. Then, from further down the street where the buildings on either side opened up to a large, open square, I heard a familiar battle yowl and saw several people turn and run. Then came a screech of pain. It sounded like we had found Tane, at last, and we were just moments too late.