Lone Star Mountain Pulse

The boy stammered bashfully, as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar before supper. Arsenio did not have patience for it. He could see the severe damage that had been done to the woman – to Khalys. The mercenary felt his heart sink into his chest as the figure of the woman he had only known for a short while took her final breath and submitted to the darkness.

What a terrible omen, he thought grimly.

Arsenio glanced toward the stammering figure and splayed his ears.

It’s too late… she’s gone. And he would be left with carrying that news back to their numbers in the vale. Guilt found him, as it so rarely did. The vale was supposed to have been her claim. She would never see its fruition. She would never know how strong their group could have been.

Will you help me move her? Somewhere else. Somewhere peaceful. If the stranger would not help, then Arsenio would be there for a long time, working to lay Khalys to rest.