Ollie MacQuoid and the Journey To Rubius

Chapter Twelve

A month or so had passed, though Ollie couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was his lack of organization, or perhaps it was the inevitable monotony of the days spent with Paloma and Fern, who owned neither clock nor calendar, but Ollie had completely lost track of time. They could have been there a year and he wouldn't have known. Now, that was not to say that he did not enjoy his time with his new friends; in fact, he found his life at that moment to be quite enjoyable. There was always plenty to do, like help Paloma with her cooking and entertain Fern when it was too rainy to go outside. Alaudidae was always pleasant company and even Calladin became more bearable to be around once his face healed. For the first time in a long while, Ollie felt quite free.

Elora seemed to be a little less at peace. She'd injured her head quite severely during their battle and had been almost completely bedridden in the weeks since. Anything besides standing up and eating sent her head into a throbbing ache so powerful it'd make her vomit and unable to do anything for the rest of the day. Ollie could tell how much it bothered her to be so incapacitated, and Paloma had no medicines that could help her besides a weak painkiller that tasted so awful Elora claimed to prefer suffering the pain than going anywhere near it. Ollie couldn't help even if he tried, as magic was useless against brain injuries. Calladin tried his best to help, but in his attempts to make sure she drank enough and did not over-exert herself, he became overbearing and only caused her more irritation. Her only solace seemed to be within Ollie, who would help her sneak off the table they all used as their living grounds and behind a rack of wooden spice dishes long abandoned in a corner. There, they'd sit in one of the shallow bowls and talk for hours until Alaudidae, who'd secretly known their hiding place all along, would come to fetch them for dinner. Their conversations were stagnant and often depressing, but Elora found comfort in his presence, and he in hers. Talking about himself was never the thing Ollie had the chance to do, to the point where when Elora asked him about his hobbies in their first week as friends, he'd barely been able to come up with an answer.

"You don't have hobbies?" Said Elora in complete disbelief. Ollie shrugged, a little embarrassed.

"Come on, you must have! You never did anything in your free time at home?"

"I read," Ollie said sheepishly. Elora fell back on her bed with a dramatic moan. "Hey, that's not lame! You read all the time."

"I don't just read, dummy. I do other things. I like to draw maps, fish for shells — you know, normal things. You have to have done other things than reading, or else you'd have gone insane!"

Ollie thought for a long while, unnerved by how little he actually remembered of his childhood. Finally, a brief memory resurfaced from his cloudy brain.

"I like to walk."

"Absolutely not."

Ollie blinked. "What?"

Elora threw a pillow in his direction; it hit the wall above him and fell into his lap. "Walking isn't a hobby! You're completely whonked in the head!" She cried in exasperation.

"I don't just walk! I wander around, you know? Look at things. Think about things. It's actually quite entertaining if you've got something really fascinating to think about. You should try it sometime."

Elora sat up, catching the pillow he'd thrown back at her in both hands with ease. She had a wide smile on her face. "I'll pass. I've too little time to just sit around and think about things."

"Walk, actually."

"Oh, shut up."

~