Scouting For Romance

Entry 5

Day 10, Month 14, Year 572

1800 Hours

With our food devoured, I hopped back over to Tytus's seat and sat on his lap. There wasn't much left to do but talk and wait for a good time to sleep, but cold still leaked through the windows so he was happy for the cuddles.

It got windier outside. Not enough to shake the train, but the noisy rattling reverberated through the car in waves. Truth be told, it was a little too close to the sound of thunder and I was on edge. Even ignoring my love of Tytus, it was comforting, sitting so close to someone I trusted.

"Do you think any other passengers will join the scout corp?"

"That's a good question, lemme ask." Tytus proceeded to wrap his arms around me, pull me up as he stood in the isle, then he projected his voice across the whole room. "Excuse me! Everyone, your attention for a moment." All eyes in the sparsely populated passenger car turned to us, I felt my face go hot as he was holding me like a heated stuffed animal in front of everyone. "Is anyone here on their way to enlist in the scout corp?"

After a second of thought, two men near the front raised their hands.

"There we go." Still holding me like a teddy bear, Tytus walked up to them. They sat on the right of the isle, so Tytus sat me down on the window seat in front of them, and he took the isle.

How Tytus can just make an announcement like that, then have the gaul to approach them, I'll never know. But sure enough, after he sat me down, he reached out and shook their hands.

"Tytus Badura, 209," he said then gestured to me, "Malina Opolka, 210."

"Ludwik Cwikla, 185,"the man sitting on the isle said.

"Marian Kor, 176," said the man by the window.

For we immortal peldaks, age is important when it comes to various hierarchies, customs, and etiquettes. But our age doesn't show on our bodies, so it's good manners to state that after our names. While we're all close enough in age that we don't have to treat each other differently, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a twinge of pride at being the oldest.

Ludwik was a very tall man with broad muscles and a short, thick beard of dark brown. He had some scars here and there, including one that went down from his cheek to his chin, parting his beard as it went. While he wore a thick jacket and heavy pants, I could see faint scars down his neck, and his thick hands looked as though he spent a lifetime smacking people around. Unlike the rest of us, Ludwik filled his seat nicely.

Marian was smaller, shorter than even me, with a smooth face and a body defined with lean muscle. His face was all busted up and swollen, with a split lip and a black eye. His knuckles were cut up too. His voice was at a higher pitch than mine, though that's unfair as my monotone keeps me deeper than most girls.

"Whew!" Tytus said, "what happened to you?"

Despite it all, Marian smiled as best he could, though he talked with a noticeable lisp and mumble. "My buddy here," he patted Ludwik's shoulder but recoiled from the pain that shot through his hand, "got into a fight with some idiot who was running his mouth and I backed him up."

Ludwik turned away and rubbed his hairy chin, "it wasn't a big deal, I could have handled it myself."

"No, no," Tytus said, "he's right. If you got into a fight he has to help, that's just how it goes."

"Exactly!" Marian put his hand out for a fist bump, but Tytus, seeing the poor man's bloody and split knuckles wrapped loosely in a weak fist, opted instead to give him a thumbs up.