Ziona's Super Groovey Adventures in Europeland

Subject: Ziona's Super Groovey Adventures in Europeland Sun Oct 24, 2010 6:57 pm

Ziona and Broc the cat lean over the side of the boat and throw up some more on the passing dolphins. They are both seasick to the point of exhaustion and nothing makes them feel better. Not bisquits dipped in ale. Not Aishling making sock pockets. And certainly not dreams of eating escargots or bouillabaise once they land in France. Both woman and cat slide themselves back into the boat and rest against the port side of the boat in a daze.

Broc growled and looked at his person. He was perfectly happy visiting the Port Lairge houses of disreputable lady kitties when he was scooped into Zi's rucksack and dragged on board ship. Now he couldn't stomach any fishie heads and was stuck eating bisquits in ale. Which, by the way, is vile. Broc shook himself and walked unsteadily back to the hammock he shared with Zi and decided to comfort himself by grooming his feet.

Zi remained slumped on the wooden deck and reminded herself why she volunteered to leave her comfy bed in Aishling's house for a swaying hammock with a sick cat on a constantly swaying boat. So far all she'd done was vomit over the side of the boat and listen to Broc's growled complaints. Everyone else on board was having a great time and chuckling at Zi's discomfort.

All this sickness for adventure! Ziona sniffled unhappily. She missed her friends back in Cill Chainnigh and Port Lairge. She missed her brothers and cousins. She missed solid ground under her feet. She missed solid food.

*sighs*

Ziona pulled out of her pocket the duel tourney itinerary to brighten her mood. Bayeux! Tours! Blois! Ravensburg! Munchen! Rotterdam! Ziona began to grin as she pictured herself in those foreign cities drinking ale and duelling. Pretty incredible for an Irish country lass. She cautiously stood up and headed for the mess hall for another sip of ale and a nibble of bisquit. She had to keep her strength up for the adventures ahead of her.

Don't go to Bruges.

Just.... just don't.

Bunch of mamby pamby fussbudget nannygoat paper pushers. Acted like I smacked them upside their hairbuns when I put a few sticks of wood and some iron on their oh so precious market. I've never been threatened with jail time so many times in one day since... dunno.... last summer in Laighean. Sheesh. And they totally disrespected Broc the cat. Nope, didn't like that town.

Poop.

Hell.

Damp nuts.

But it looks like the ship is nearly docked in Port Lairge and that makes Ziona happy as a cat in a catnip bush. Yeah, that happy.

Still, I did win my duel against some cute guy in Rotterdam. Sailed a German river to Stuttgart. Got caught in some craziness in Bruges. Good times.

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