There was another clatter, followed by a burst of Swedish curses. Emil had tripped and fallen, yet again. When he didn’t get back up immediately, Lalli stopped walking and turned around.
“I thought you said this was a shortcut!” said Emil while massaging his ankle. “This isn’t even a path, it’s just rocks. Very unstable ones.”
“It’s a dry riverbed. Unstable rocks are expected.”
“So why did you pick this way? You know how I hate rocks.”
“I know. That’s exactly why I picked it.” Confronted with a look of utter confusion, Lalli decided to explain. “You are bad at walking on rocks. You always trip on them, even on paths that have very few. So I thought you might just need more rock-waking practice, and this riverbed is perfect for that.”
“You actually planned this torture?” Emil’s mouth turned down at the edges. “In cold blood? Lalli, it’s not working. My balance is getting worse, if anything, now that I have bruises on my bruises. Can we turn around and try a different path?”
“Not if we want to reach the village before dusk. It’s just another hour or so.” Lalli considered the estimate. ”Maybe two hours, at your pace? Come on.” He offered Emil his hand.
Emil ignored it pointedly as he stumbled back to his feet.
The rest of the walk passed in silence, broken only by the occasional rock- and Emil-fall. Even the cursing grew sparser. Over time, Lalli grew worried, especially when he noticed that Emil was trying to conceal a limp, rather than exaggerate it while complaining loudly.
Maybe… Maybe he had made a mistake? Maybe, in spite of his good intentions and his sound reasoning, he had miscalculated somehow?
A thought occurred. Was this the sort of situation where a person should apologize?
