Day Eleven - Afternoon

     The Glenholm Boys are loitering about the road again. Not as many this time as there were last, but no matter. Casper sneaks his way around them, pondering whether it’s worth the hassle of approaching them. He’s already suffered his share of unpleasant encounters this morning and the other boys tend to be a bit… much.

     No, they aren’t worth the trouble. Casper isn’t feeling up to the task. Some other time perhaps, but not now. Not today. He just…

     He turns his back on the other boys. He’s not sure what he wants right now, uncertain as to what made him come to town in the first place, but it’s not to play until his worries go away. This isn’t the kind of thing that he can ignore and wish away until the storm blows over. He really screwed up this time, went and blew his top and spouted off to Glenholm’s very own infamous witch-man, of all people.

Day Eleven - Morning and Midday

     Balor doesn’t come into the greenhouse that morning. He’s taking the whole ‘giving Casper his space’ thing more seriously than Casper had given him credit for. At any rate, the lack of disturbances lets him rest easy this morning and through the night. He appreciates the space. He feels more centered for it and, after the day he had yesterday, he needs it.

     But that’s enough ruminating. Today’s a brand-new day. Best he get his morning affairs in order.

Day Ten - Midday to Night

     One is not exempt from working simply because someone else is doing the hardest part of the job; here’s a lesson Casper learns the hard way. Apparently, when Balor said they’d be doing this ‘together’, he meant together ‘together’, as in “While I do not expect you to perform the burden of ridding the brush I do think you are capable of more than idling to the side and giving advise on where to set the latest uprooted piece of the thicket.” That said, Balor tosses aside the sapling in his hands onto the neat pile that’s since amassed to the side of their ever-growing clearing.

     Casper watches the tree go flying with as much ease as one might throw a matchstick. “I dunno ‘bout that. You look to be handlin’ it pretty damn well by yerself.” Any and all contributions on his part will look like nothing in comparison to what Balor can do. Casper adds superhuman strength onto his ever-growing list of what amazing and terrible things a witch man is capable of; he puts it right between magics and talking with more big words than he’s heard in his life.

Announcement #5

     I've come across another writing site called Royal Road and I'm considering moving publication over there too. Mind, I've already got this story up on other sites as well, such as Booksie and Wattpad (though I've canceled publication on the latter since sometime last year), but Royal Road seems a nice site and the navigation is a great deal less clunky than Booksie's; as much as I like Booksie, not to mention my favourite fan is over there, it's a pain trying to browse their selection.

     Should the Royal Road move take place, posting will continue in conjunction with this site; I repeat, simply because I am moving to another site does not mean I won't be canceling publication over here. The story still goes on. (Goodness knows why I bother; it's not like anyone comes here, but such as it is.)

     Expect the move to begin sometime this November, or December at the very latest.

     That is all for today's announcements. Thank you for your time.

      - Regards, the author.

      P.S. Here's the Booksie link in case anyone from my imaginary audience is curious.
            ==> Booksie ho!

Day Ten - Morning

     Casper stares up at the scores in wood on the underside of the table. One. Two. Three… Seven. He’s three short. He fishes a knife out from under his pillow and gets carving. There’s dried gore where the blade meets the handle, left over from butchering that rabbit last night. Must’ve missed it when he was wiping the blade clean before he pocketed it. If Balor noticed him making off with it, he didn’t say anything. He probably knows; he knew with the silverware. It’s probably fine.

Day Nine - Afternoon to Night

     Alicia seems to get the hint to stop prying after several aborted attempts in asking how Casper’s day went. She drops the subject and abandons conversation altogether, funnily enough, to attend to her duties in the kitchen. Now that she’s no longer bothering him, daddy dearest has been looming over his shoulder, silently pressuring him to scram already. Casper takes his sweet time chewing on the leftover heel of bread Alicia gave him, just to spite him.

     Alright, he’s had his fun. Pa looks like he’s going to have a fit if he pushes him any further. Casper just knows his bit of bread is going to be coming out of his tab, but he couldn’t care less. He tucks the remaining half of his lunch in his pocket to save for dinner and leaves with a cheery goodbye. Alicia waves him off from the kitchen. Pa watches him go without acknowledging him.

     That went well.

Day Nine - Midday

     Casper makes good on the shortcut into the churchyard he found yesterday, ducking around a thick tree to check for onlookers and comically tiptoeing to hide behind the fence. He peers over. He must look awful suspicious, if there were anyone to see him sneaking about, poking his nose around corners. He feels plenty suspicious, what with his secret note that he has to deliver secretly to ‘Mr. Smith’ for Balor’s secret plans to get him the hell outta here. Not that he’s supposed to know what any of this nonsense means, oh no, he’s just the messenger. Heaven forbid someone shoots him for something he doesn’t know about; all the whispering in town behind the scenes is making him twitchy as is.