Page 38 of Bride of Choice

Clearing my throat, glancing at Boog as if nothing was amiss, I grabbed my trowel, asking as I absently put a few more scoops of mud into my bag, “What was that thing?”

Boog’s lips quirked. “That thing Reck’d,” he quipped, making me laugh despite how freaking scary that demon beast creeping close had been.

“The other thing,” I deadpanned, with a soft tsking sound.

“Other thin… Krampus,” Boog replied quietly.

“Krampus?” I repeated, dumbfounded.

Rek’s angry bellows stopped and he stormed right back out. “What means, Krampus?” he demanded to know.

Boog started to reply in his native tongue, as I lifted my trowel to wave off towards the other side of the river, and told him, “We just saw one. It was like he was watching us.” A shudder overtook me. I never wanted to run into that thing again. It gave me the heebie jeebies.

Rek’s eyes widened as Boog continued to chatter on without me. No matter. Back to work for me.

Standing, stretching my back, I lifted the handles of my hand-made Yeti bag, a random gift from Gopher that I’d thought fitting to destroy to start off the first leg of this me first journey I’d started off on, and limped a little, dragged a little, as I went.

This went on while Boog and Rek’s conversation grew heated. It was Rek. Of course it was. It was always Rek. It was like that was the only way he knew how to talk.

I started when a big hand came down over mine, gently prying my hands free, to lift my bag up like it was nothing and tote it into my hut for me. Boog talked all the while, starting to get growly when Rek thought to put some sassy sauce on whatever kinda fuss he was kickin’ up.

“Where?” Boog asked, ignoring Rek as Rek burst out, “No’ there! No in there!”

“A sinking hole opened up under my bed. I mean to make it go bye bye,” I said simply.

Boog’s eyes widened when I motioned towards the mostly filled hole. Only a tiny peek of my sacrificed suitcase wreckage visible now.

Boog lifted the bag higher to dump it, bending to grab the bed and scoot it off to the side more than I’d already pushed it, when Rek jumped into the middle of it.

Several things happened at once, all leading up to the mud bath I’d never asked for.

Rek bumped Boog, shouting, “No!” which sent Boog toppling into me, the bag held in one hand swinging precariously as he bellowed for Rek to stop. My hands shot up and I cursed, boxed in and knowing there was no possible way outta this.

That first slap of dirt clapping over my head, as icy cold as when I’d scooped it into the bag, sent me screaming, cursing, and then screaming some more.

By the time Boog had seemed to catch the bag, I was covered in more than half the contents of that large sack. This was so damned worse than getting a bag of freaking coal.

Loud, unintelligible noises left me as I panted heavily. It was fucking cold! With a muffled shriek, careful to keep my mouth shut as a glob of gooey wetness slid down my face, I lifted my arms, desperate to keep my mud coated head dipped, and gaped down at myself.

I looked like a glob of wet shit! Thank god I just smelled like wet earth.

Someone, and I wasn’t sure who as mud rolled down the sides of my head, let loose a startled chuckle.

Sputtering despite the mud coating my lips, I snarled, “That better be the sorry, shocked kinda laughter, bucko, or you’re next!”

“What happ… en?” Whoever came in quickly switched into Lo denaii speak.

I was so done with this- ALL of this.

“Everyone, get the hell out,” I gritted out quietly, my voice soft but firm. If they knew what was good for them, they’d get out before I lost it and exploded.

“Who scream?” yet another voice called out.

The growl I was holding back started to let loose. “One,” I counted.

“One whats?” an unknown to me voice asked.

“She mad,” Boog whispered.

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