Sleeping Dragon will it be harvest or a killing storm

always me

The medic had left, which Sangilak was disappointed by. A waste of herbs, a waste of time. Thuringwethil had cared, had let her heart feel for the other. So they had lived longer, only to leave. She was sure the leader was most affected by this, but Sangilak feels an anger toward Lucani; the woman should have died, and had survived thanks to mercy. A mercy that Sangilak, herself, would have never been inclined to give. No amount of thanks would make her feel that it was a worthy cause.

Sangilak had been heading westward and saw a familiar face. Her glacial eyes fall upon him and she regards him for a moment in silence. She had been patrolling, as ever; the geysers would keep their silence for the hour before bursting, and Sangilak intended to be away from the sounds of them by then.