Enough's enough. But only when it's enough!
While they, at a respectful distance, followed Egwene back to the inn, Mat looked at the other two consideringly. His plan was good, but would they participate, would they let him do it even on his own. They were too softhearted. The lot of them. He ought to teach them a lesson as well for that. That would be fun, even if it wasn't exactly nice. Especially not since they were his best friends.This was a serious dilemma. He kicked a slightly too large rock, attracting Rand's attention away from his reverie. He'd have to think it through.
"You know Mat, you're just too cruel sometimes. It isn't her fault." Mat turned to glare at Rand.
"He's right Mat, and you know it. Nynaeve would do worse to Egwene than she's probably ever done to us, the way she thinks about love poems. Remember Will's sister? Phaw, that was probably the worst beating I've ever seen. Anyway, you know she wants to be on a good footing with Nynaeve."
Mat gave Perrin a glare too. They definitely needed to be brung down a peg. They were way too high in the soft-heart tree. They'd probably get over it anyway.
It was only when Mat was almost back to the inn that Ewin caught up him and he realized that the other two had dissapeared. Always wanting to be with the older boys, it seemed Ewin had thought up a new way he hoped would help him join their gang.
Mat did not acknowledge his presence, but this did not seem to unnerve or discourage Ewin in the slightest. "Hey Mat, remember when you said you had thought up a good prank with a badger?"
Mat gave the slightest nod.
"Well, guess what. I caught one!"
Ewin seemed alight with glee and pride, but Mat didn't slow his step or even glance at him. "We can't do the badger thing until Bell-tine, you goatheaded fool. Remember what I told you?"
Ewin's face fell, but only slightly. And it immediately lit up again. "My dad's got a cage. We can keep it in there and feed it until Bell-tine comes up. My da won't mind. He doesn't use it anyway."
Mat nodded and told Ewin that was a great idea and he should probably see to it immediately. He'd learned Ewin could be useful for things like these sometimes and that it could pay off to be nice to him sometimes. His mind was not in it, though. He couldn't stop thinking about what he was about to do to his two best friends, the most annoying girl in Emond's field, and that bloody, too good-looking son of a sheep. When he was back at his house, he quickly nicked some paper and ink from his father's personal store, and ran up the stairs to the room next too his sister's. It was, as always, much too small, but he couldn't interest himself in muttering about this discomfort. He'd never imagined writing love poems could be this much fun.