Blast it, Cole del Tigre, why did you have to be so stubborn about that stupid mark? You didn't give me any choice! I was trying to help you! I meant no harm, there was no reason to get so blasted ticked off like that!Kryshcenn slowed a bit in her furious march towards Macula. Her seething anger was beginning to give her a headache, and her arms were getting scratched up from pushing furiously through the occasional patches of underbrush. She almost began to wish for her sword, but that would mean going back. And that, she was too proud to do.
Dammit, I was just trying to find out what was wrong so I could help him! He didn't have to get so mad! But I guess I've managed to screw up absolutely everything since I've been here no matter how hard I try.
Th' road ta Hell bae paved wi' good intentions, lassie, another part of her mind told her.
"Great," she mumbled aloud, "now even my interrnal monologue speaks in a Scottish accent." But after a moment, she had to admit it was right, that despite her good intentions, she'd gone about it all wrong.
Sheesh, what was I expecting? I suckered him with a low down, sneaky trick after I agreed the topic was off limits! No wonder he's p.o.'ed at me! Well, chalk up another spectacular botch to the ol' Berserker. I probably owe him a big, fat apology, don't I? Kryshcenn's spine stiffened at the thought. And then he'll laugh at me. He'll laugh and call me some sort of psycho freak. Forget it. No one is ever going to laugh at me again. I'd rather just turn myself in and get this over with. That way I can at least do something right by getting the Yarfellians off my friends' backs, and at the same time remove myself from the possibility of messing things up for them ever again.
When her riled pride finally settled back down, Kryschenn looked around blankly. She was no longer certain that she was going in the right direction. The canopy of trees had thickened in this area; she no longer had the suns to guide her. Nor could she see through the vegetation to locate any buildings that might belong to Macula. Having been essentially dropped into this unknown forest straight from the underground maze of the catacombs, she'd had no chance to regain her sense of direction. It is a fact that a lone person wandering in an unfamilar wood without a compass or other form of guide, like the sight of the sun, will tend to wander in a great circle, going slowly clockwise or counterclockwise depending on whether they are right- or left-handed. That thought sprang to mind only after Kryschenn realized she had no way of knowing if she was actually facing the town anymore.
"Shytte," she muttered, and that pretty much summed it all up.
