Avon has been acting strange today. Very out of character, even for the way he has been choosing to act during our travels. He thinks I do not notice the looks he keeps flashing me, but I see them. Yet he says nothing to me. I can tell he has something he wishes to say to me, yet he does not.
I wonder if he is upset that the Atmer returned to camp after stomping off and insulting us. Perhaps he was really sure that the silence would lead to his departure. I admit, I also wished for that to happen. But no such luck.
If we are lucky, then the only one to get injured in this will be him. I would love to hear how it’s all our fault that his superior experience makes him blameless for his own injuries and surely only those of us without his pristine Altmeri lineage could have designed a way for his perfect form to come to harm. It’s such a beautiful thought I could almost attempt to draft a way for it to happen. Yet the complaints he will make will no doubt give splitting headaches for months afterwards. Maybe we will be blessed and he will choke upon his supper. That sort of poetic justice would put me feel in a far better mood.
I suppose I shall find Avon and try and speak with him. And if he won’t talk, then tonight I shall get him out of it one way or another. It’s cruel, but it’s for the best. And he has always been good at staying silent when he needs to be.