This wasn't the first time he'd been invited to the Quest Master's holiday party, and he hoped very much that it would not be the last. He had been a bit surprised, in fact, when he'd gotten his second invitation, seeing as he had done absolutely nothing of note at the previous one - he hadn't even worked up the courage to approach the Quest Master and thank them for the invitation! - but he supposed that with the scale of the event, he wasn't expected to do much but show up and enjoy himself.
That was his plan, this time around. Last time, he had been so incredibly nervous; he'd worried about embarrassing himself, he'd worried about embarrassing the people around him, he'd worried about wearing the wrong things or eating the wrong things or saying the wrong things. He'd hoped to come back with ideas for how to improve his own business, and he'd barely managed to touch on that because he was too busy sweating bucket.
This time, he'd just take things in stride. One thing at a time, one breath at a time.
and if you ask how i regret that parting:
it is like the flowers falling at spring's end
confused, whirled in a tangle.
what is the use of talking, and there is no end of talking,
there is no end of things in the heart.
ezra pound,
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