Traveling again

(OOC: Mama's Broken Heart)

Vimmark Mountains, Dragon 9:31

Every action must have purpose. Every inaction also. Nothing wasted. On the field, there is no time for waste.

I still strongly dislike doing dishes. Unfortunately, it far more difficult to "accidentally" destroy them since we must depend on the supplies we bring with us. However tempting that might be. I suppose I can take comfort in that there are far less dishes to be done here than at Kinloch. Not really.

Still not resting well. These people are still not known to me. Most of them I can trust to fulfill their roles but there is still a significant disconnect. The quiet is somewhat stifling. As apprentices we always complain about being on top of one another and rarely getting privacy but the moment we are disconnected we are lost. I never thought I would miss Niall's snoring or our secret war. He was supposed to be an Enchanter too. I miss our spirited debates. It is not the same with Finn.

Camping is -- an experience. I would not say a pleasant one. It's dirty. There are insects. It is damp and cold. No warm baths or facilities. I do not understand V's fascination with this lifestyle. I'll take a warm feather bed with a roaring fire any day. At least the Tranquil wrote out instructions for that tent.

D is a terrible Orlesian. He is completely failing to live up to the degree of arrogance I'd expected from my readings. Amusingly, I am giving him lessons in Arcane theory. Good practice at teaching, I suppose. I could have a lot of fun with this. I think he would respond best to a very formal teaching style. I wish I'd brought books I hadn't written all over with me. Some of my notes are not meant to be shared. Perhaps I can borrow some texts from the Circle at Ansburg since we are apparently passing through.