While I'd like to say it didn't take me long to catalog my gains from the Instance, that would be a blatant and bald-faced lie. With Brenden standing on my shoulder and commenting on my pace every step of the way, the process, which I originally viewed as therapeutic, was mind-numbingly agonizing.
What should have been a simple and relaxing task that I could complete throughout the evening took me two whole days because my brother refused to leave me alone.
"About damn time; I thought you'd never finish up," Brenden chuffed while watching me place the final item, a stack of dried monster pelts, on a shelf in the storage facility.
"Brenden…tell me something…" Slowly placing the material down and double-checking the tag I had used to mark its characteristics, I turned and faced my brother with an expressionless face.
"Hm? What's up?"
"How many fingers do you think I could cut off your hands yet still allow you to throw punches or hold a sword."
