Whitefish River i can never go home again, but ten silvers an hour gets me pretty close

The praise towards the three of them was merely the crow croaking that which he thought to be true; the pleasure of it being recieved was not lost on him, as it was entirely theirs. However, at Evergreen’s open astonishment, the crow’s own amusement overwhelmed him — a heady laugh billowed up from the tell-tale place between throat and lungs.

With a cant of a fine head to Chai, he did them the generous offer of answering both their enquiries in one reply: “As you will find, I am not quite keen to reconvene with our... desecrator. So, I said to myself, ‘If I will not hunt the Dread Wolf, then I will serve her champion.’” Eyes returning to Chai, “I have no doubt that her midwife knew, and that the information has been relayed already. I suspect Diaspora won’t be too happy about it.”

”For now, they have my sister as well as her children. The basilisk is content within his mountain, with hatchlings on the way. They thrive with children — whatever would they want with a male such as myself, bound to blood honors?” His attention to Evergreen, at that, “I have further plans, as well, of... concord with Kaistleoki. If I am initiated, which we may address afterwards.”

The vagrant quieted, and awaited for replies with a patient, somewhat spent demeanor. Gods, speaking was exhausting. How did Aurëwen ever manage it?