"I still don't know what it ate to get so big!" Del exclaimed as she regarded her semi-sentient gigastool yet again. She had been musing over the dilemma ever since it had come running into her class room most unexpectedly and apparently big enough now that it could push the door open on its own.
"You sound as though I should have somehow magicked up the answer in the five minutes since you last made that statement," Bartholomew scoffed. "Wonder all you want. Unless you ask someone other than me, you aren't likely to find any leads."
Del pointedly ignored him. For one thing, she had been talking more to herself than Bartholomew. A habit developed over the years of having few to no friends.
Sure, there was Mona who was practically a sister, but the chaos of life had taken them in and out of each other's respective paths over the years. Though they had always remained close friends, they couldn't always be as present with each other as they might've liked.
Besides the fact that Del had been talking to herself, she didn't appreciate the solution he'd suggested to finding the answers to her dilemma. She wasn't a fan of social interaction, and that hadn't improved in the week or so she'd spent at the arcanum. If anything, her experiences had only reinforced her solitary mindset. Between the giant cupcake debacle and crossing Bianca--along with the mess that had resulted--Del had gained no small amount of notoriety in the tower. Whispers followed her everywhere, as did stares of pity, distrust, and other insufferable judgements.
"Have you named that thing yet?" Bartholomew wondered sometime later. She had learned he got anxious if he felt she was ever upset with him. She couldn't decide how to feel about the revelation.
"I already told you, his name is Shroombert," Del replied.
"Oh, so you still insist in using that abysmal name," Bartholomew sighed. "I still don't understand why you persist in assigning a gender to something that is clearly sexless."
"Shroombert strikes me as more masculine," Del shrugged, "And I really don't like calling him 'it.' Besides, the only thing 'abysmal' about his name is your attitude towards it!"
"'They' and 'them' are acceptable pronouns." Bartholomew suggested, blatantly ignoring her comment about his opinion. "If you don't want to refer to that mushroom as an 'it,' those would be the most appropriate to use."
"But that just makes it feel like I am making him plural," Del shook her head. "Look, sexless or not, Shroombert doesn't seem to mind the least bit that I refer to him as a he, and so that's what I will continue doing."
"There are days I have to wonder about you," Bartholomew sighed and shook his head as though she was the strange one.
"Trust me, the feeling is mutual," Del grumbled.
Shroombert, the genderless mushroom in question, looked back and forth between the pair with interest as though sensing their attention was in some way directed at it. Once it determined nothing particularly interesting was happening, it turned its attention to more engaging activities, such as sorting through the trash.
Del sighed again as she tried to decide what to do with Shroombert. She would be needing to leave soon for a patrol that night and had many reservations about leaving him behind. She had an equal amount of reservations about bringing him along, given that she could no longer carry him around in her bag. After a moment's thought, she stood up and collected her satchel which she had packed a few essentials into. She'd let Shroombert determine weather or not he felt like following her.
As she understood it, the location of wall they would be traveling to was a full day and a half out traveling by wagon. Bartholomew had made the necessary preparations, but it seemed such excursions by the students were fairly common. She supposed there had to be if a patrol was sent out weekly to the location. But then, as she understood it, most of the patrols rotated inspection sights each were. Hers, it seemed, was an odd exception except for nights like this one where attendance was optional.
"We should probably get going," She announced after double and triple checking her bag. "I don't want to run the risk of being left behind."
"The patrol didn't leave until somewhere around thirty minutes past the scheduled departure hour last time," Bartholomew rolled his eyes. "Given that leaving now would put us fifteen minutes early, I doubt you have to worry about it."
"Due to that stupid festival going on, attendance this week is optional," Del disagreed. From what I learned of the patrol leads during our last encounter, I doubt they'll bother waiting all that long."
"Sir Jericho isn't one to depart when other patrol members may yet deign to arrive," Bartholomew countered. "Though, I suppose you bring up a decent point. It's doubtful he would wait too long past the hour for stragglers... Still, on principle I am certain he'd wait at least that long."
"That's assuming he'll be attending," Del scoffed.
The only one who could rival her infamy in the tower at present was Jericho. Though he was cast in a more flattering light by all but jealous boyfriends. While it was implied he held some standards, it was a well known fact that Jericho was an audacious flirt and rarely went a night without some form of date. She doubted this holiday weekend, which was a notorious for romantic activities in Ladonas, would be any exception. This meant the other one would most likely be calling the shots.
"I'm sure he'll be in attendance," Bartholomew argued. "To my knowledge, he has not once missed a single patrol since he joined the protective detail."
"Perhaps this will be the first time the patrol overlaps the abysmal holiday," Del scoffed. Not that she minded. She never did well around extroverts, particularly the flirty kinds such as Jericho.
"You know, it is possible that you have it backwards," Bartholomew persisted in arguing as she stepped out the door, then paused as Shroombert came hurrying out after her before she closed and locked it. "It could be that Sir Gairovald is the one with the date and Sir Jericho will be the one traveling with you to the patrol location. Spending the weekend with him must sound quite thrilling."
"Hardly," Del spat, not appreciating his poorly conceived barb in the least. "Quite frankly, if he turns out to be the only person there, I refuse to go on the patrol. The last thing I need is to send three days stuck in the same wagon as a non-committal flirt during some notorious couples' festival."
She didn't bother to point out the fact she very much doubted Gairovald would be absent, which was the reason she hadn't decided to skip the trip to begin with. After witnessing the peculiar behavior of that zombie, she doubted very much that he would pass up the opportunity to inspect another section of wall, especially free of his typical burdens. Besides that, she got the sense that the dower fellow wasn't any fonder of the holiday than she was.
"You don't have to be that venomous about it you know..." Bartholomew grumbled. "It was a joke."
"It wasn't very funny," Del retorted.
They fell silent from that point as they made their way to the foyer where she knew the others would be waiting. Shroombert scampered along after her with an impressive amount of focus. She noted the mushroom was doing everything in its power to walk her exact path right down to her foot placement. Since it's little legs simply couldn't match her gait, Shroombert settled for taking walking the path between her steps after falling several times in his efforts to hop the distance. Apparently keeping up had been prioritized over perfect imitation.
"Well, I suppose I will be going on patrol after all," Del grumbled as they reached the final platform leading down to the foyer where she could see Gairovald and Jericho waiting.