Excerpt: Sticks and Stones

“You’ve broken my ribs! My ribs are broken!” Honeytoast cried. Hendley squatted beside him and poked at him a little. Honeytoast screamed like he was in agony, but Hendley looked at Taggs and shook his head.
“He’s fine,” he said.
“You shouldn’t be so rough with him, Riddle,” Taggs chided. “He’s just a wee thing.”
Riddle leaned on the staff and put her other hand on her hip. “He’s the Chosen One; he should be able to handle it,” she said haughtily. “And if he can’t handle it, then he shouldn’t pick fights.” She nudged him with her foot. “Get up, pansy ass,” she ordered. He groaned and writhed on the ground.
“You’ve killed me!” He said. “You’ve taken my rightful belongings and killed me, your own dearest friend. That staff belonged to my mentor! He would have wanted me to have it! Me! He was dear to me, and yet you try to thieve his memory and besmirch his good name.”
“Yeah, yeah. I haven’t done any besmirching, so you can just quit your moaning. And since when do you talk like that? Your brain’s not big enough to be wasting on frilly words.”
“I talk like this since I became a Chosen One. It is only fitting for the hero destined to save the world to speak with properly flowery language. When they quote me years from now on commemorative plaques and in epic poetry dedicated to my greatness, it will sound much better than if I were to speak like a common ruffian.”
“You’re full of shit,” Riddle said with a disdainful laugh. She was beginning to feel that weird tingling in her arms and on the bridge of her nose, warning her that she was dangerously close to passing out. She looked at Taggs’ pot. “What is that, and can I eat it?”
“It’s a broth I made by boiling some of these dry vegetables and a bit of jerky. I’ve made it especially so you can have something to perk you up again, so you can have the first of it.”
“Woe is me,” Honeytoast moaned, “How unfair life is. How dare you give my sidekick food before me? What will sustain me through my great battle with Ultimate Evil if I am not nourished?”
Riddle rolled her eyes and hefted the staff. “You see this magic stick?” She asked him.
“Yes,” Honeytoast said, forgetting his dramatics and looking at her curiously.
“Well, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to beat you with it!”