I can’t believe I let myself be talked into this. Again. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson by now, but apparently not.
The humans have loaded two duffel bags, an ice chest, two bags of board games, a bag of stitchery, a backpack, two laptops, an unconscionable amount of snacks, and assorted other clutter into the car and pointed its nose west to go visit the human’s mother (whom I actually like) and her sister and the sister’s spouse.
That is a lot of humans and a LOT of driving.
It looks as if it is also going to be a lot of weather. They’re predicting rain tomorrow. Oh, joy.
We are breaking our journey in an inn. One Midgardian inn is much like another. Beds, televisions, minuscule refrigerator, ugly decor, and a cake next to the sink. I’ve lost count of the times that I’ve tried to explain to Sigyn that sink cakes are NOT actual-for-eating cakes, but she has not given up hope that somewhere, some day, she is going to find one she can nom.
She’s all excited because this one is sitting in a puddle of goo, just like a good tres leches cake should. Sweetie, I wouldn’t taste that if I were you.
Yes, all in all, this seems to be a typical inn. And as one should, I am examining the premises to ensure I know the exit plan should an emergency arise. I can always teleport Sigyn and myself to safety—I just want to know where to misdirect the humans if the alarms go off in the middle of the night.
According to this map, I am standing in the parking lot, watching the inn burn.
I like it.