40
Bard
With Jori, waking up was an adventure. Yesterday, when Bard squinted his eyes open, Jori’s head had rested on the edge of the bed like the family dog had done in Enderin. Jori sighed with disappointment and told Bard he was just getting to the good part of the story. At least Jori didn’t mind his rambling. Two days before that, a high, rattling roar sounded through Bard’s dreams. When he’d finally sat up, Jori was sitting on the floor near the foot of the bed, rolling marbles (“I said the floor was uneven!”) It was hilarious and odd. Before that, Bard’s hand hit something cold and hard. He recoiled and found it was a porcelain plate with a scone on it. Jori was nowhere to be found. It was a delicious scone.
Despite the unpredictability, Bard was glad to room with someone again,
