Ken smirked, picking up the basket and striding past. “I’m sure you’re very good at hitting people with sticks, but I’ve taken on much scarier things than you.”
“Yeah? I once beat a giant rat to death with a rock.” Every bandit child was expected to, actually, when they turned ten. “One of the big, mean ones, too.”
“Oh, wow, a giant rat!” Ken made it to the door and opened it for Heather. “Why not a normal rat?”
Heather looked around, making her eyes wide and fearful. “You don’t… have any
normal
rats around here, do you?”
“Just giant, murderous ones,” Ken said. “You’re safe. But I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
“Oh, you’re a real lifesaver. A normal rat could kick my ass.” Heather laughed. Ken laughed, too.
It was a weird kind of laugh. There wasn’t any victim, any butt of the joke, as far as Heather could tell. It just felt… comfortable.
She paused in the doorway, taking one last look at the garden, the thriving beehive.
Everything felt comfortable here. Lighter, somehow. Ken was just so… so absurd, so mad, so bizarrely…
… nice. Heather didn’t feel like she had to be on her guard around Ken at all, and even as her instincts railed against this incaution, she couldn’t help but feel more relaxed. It felt kind of nice to be allowed to just exist for a change, to talk to someone who wasn’t constantly looking to gain an advantage. This cottage felt like somewhere separate, a little bit of creation borrowed from the southern lands and transplanted here.
For a moment, the thought of being trapped here for a few more days almost didn’t feel so bad.
It felt like stolen time.
30-Apr-2023 19:05:43