"Okay, okay! You're fine." Ghent backed off, throwing up his hands in exasperated defeat. Either his help was demanded, or it was vehemently denied. There was no winning with this girl, she was completely and utterly impossible.
Distancing himself from her wrath, his attention was drawn to the peculiar bed of mist Margen had conjured in order to transport Drust. He hadn't taken the time to observe it closely before, but Ghent decided he wanted one too. He mentally added the bed to his Wonderland wish list, second only to the Mary Poppins bag.
Not long after he began to follow Margen, Ghent felt Elayra grab his shoulder. He stopped in his tracks, giving their surroundings a quick look. They weren't in any immediate danger that he could see, so he figured Elayra was going to chew him out or lecture him. Probably over the fact that he'd dropped her dagger.
Contrary to what he expected, Elayra did something he didn't think possible. She thanked him.
Ghent blinked. He didn't know how to react. His mouth dropped open, but no words came out.
“Oh, that...” Ghent cleared his throat, rubbing at his arm. He looked to Drust when she did, grateful for a reason to delay eye contact. He was glad there was barely any light, his face felt hot. “You did the same for me, so...I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he admitted with a side glance, feeling oddly charitable for once. If Elayra could play nice, so could he.
Spineless oaf? Ghent’s face scrunched in disapproval. An oaf, he was willing to let that slide. But spineless? At least he hadn’t fainted, or run away screaming, which is exactly what Mrs. Saxon’s son would have done. He shot her an unamused, 'really?' sort of look when she pointed out his stance. He knew it was bad, but did she have to point it out?
"Way to ruin the moment, Blondie," he mumbled dazedly, watching as she passed him by. Maybe she wasn't so impossible after all.
It wasn’t long before Ghent caught up and began going over what had happened in the Betwixt. He went into great detail, using crazy hand gestures when describing the tendrils. He covered everything, except for the part where he almost cried. That was unimportant.
He smirked to himself when Elayra expressed her disbelief. Apparently, his meeting with Smaya was more of an honor than he had realized. He gave a solid nod, feeling mighty important. “Yup,” he answered, straightening his shoulders. “It was kind of a big deal. For her, I mean." Despite his boasting, Ghent didn't want to be put in a situation that terrifying ever again. The memory of being torn apart by sheer emotion, coupled with the drop in temperature, made him shiver.
Just as he began to complain about how cold it was, Ghent stumbled, arms flailing for something to grab. His fingers snagged a low hanging branch, but it broke underneath his weight and he fell to his knees. The dizzying way the world around them seemed to distort and expand was both nauseating and frightening. As soon as it began, it was over, leaving him thoroughly baffled.
"What the heck was that?" Ghent took his time getting back up. He readjusted his pack, pleasantly surprised as the mini version of Margen came into view. It hadn't occurred to him that there was more than one tichari in Hollow Forest. He added a tichari to the very top of his Wonderland wish list.
While the two creatures conversed, Ghent checked back on Elayra. He was surprised to see she had fallen too. He began to ask if she was alright, but the words caught in his throat. Something was different about this place. There was no fear forced upon them, no sorrow sinking into their very being. The only emotions they had to worry about were their own. And maybe Drust’s.
“We made it,” Ghent breathed, venturing forward to get a better look. Visually, it wasn't anything spectacular, but after their journey it was the most beautiful place he ever saw.
He looked up as the tichari summoned the four spheres of light. He had to look away after a bit, blinking away the blotches in his vision. "Margen, if tichari get paid, you deserve a raise. And a promotion," he rubbed at his eyes, but that made the blotches worse, so he waited for them to fade and gave Margen two thumbs up. The creature more than earned it.
"Of course I do!" Scoffing at Elayra's question, Ghent plopped down near the stack of wood. It felt good to sit, but it also reminded him of how tired he was. He ached all over, especially where Drust had kicked him. “It’s just like Jenga,” he mumbled to Margen, grabbing two pieces of wood. “How hard can it be?”
While Ghent had the surprisingly ordinary task of stacking wood, he cast a nervous look in Drust’s direction. He didn’t like the idea of him waking up, Safe Zone or not. “Shouldn’t we tie him up?” he asked skeptically, purposely setting aside the largest piece of wood in the pile. He wanted something to club Drust over the head with in case he got violent again.
“Hey Margen, if Drust starts going crazy again, get ready to sneeze,” Ghent instructed their guide, adding another piece to his Jenga-inspired woodpile. “I don’t trust him. And you shouldn’t either, Blondie. I’d move away from him if I were you.”
