[Well, it's the evening and Zelgadis couldn't even bring himself to go somewhere to drink. He's just out on a bench somewhere, looking absolutely hollow and miserable. A pile of black and blue flower petals are on the ground around his feet.
He glances up to see Hunter, and glances away again... Then quietly, dryly, he utters:]
Week 5, Saturday
He glances up to see Hunter, and glances away again... Then quietly, dryly, he utters:]
It shouldn't have been her.