Diary entry 5:
So, the other day, the doc came up to me and tried, EMPHASIS ON tried, to start up a conversation. Her name's WoobMonkey, and she's been working in the medical field for years. She was quite nice, but I could tell she was still new to casual conversation. So I paced our conversation to smaller talk, like weather, booze, rocks; mundane things, essentially. Once she got used to it, she told me about some interesting projects about opening creatures' guts and finding gallbladders and whatnot. Quite interesting, but, as an artist, I've been the kind to enjoy engravings more. But we both look for detail in our work. She asked me for a favor, too. She wanted me to keep on the lookout for someone suspicious, as she thinks someone is spying on her. I agreed, but I don't know what she expects. She also seems to look strangely at the leader. Maybe she's diagnosing him from a glance, like Urist McHolmes. That'd be impressive, I'll tell you what.
The brewer came to me as well. His name's Edmund. He says that WoobMonkey is "Judgemental of his love for his profession". Asinine, I said. No dwarf would look down on a brewer. He responded with saying it wasn't about his work, but his "interest" in the ingredients. I told him he shouldn't mind WM about that. He made my drinking a new adventure with his concoctions. He smiled, and thanked me for the chat.
The snows falling steadily, now. I enjoy the Winds of Winter.
Author
Topic: IronFist (Read 6669 times)