Greatwater Lake Synkverv

Rodyn speaks, breaking into her thoughts. It’s like he’s reading them. Her lilac eyes cut to him sharply, squinting again. She decides to listen to her instincts. They’ve nearly never steered her wrong. He gives her all sorts of misgivings and she no longer wants to continue this conversation.

Greit, she replies quietly, opting not to comment about the ducklings. Do not need help, she adds as Berserkir swivels on a heel and begins loping around the lakeshore.

She will hunt, she thinks, and then find somewhere quiet to eat and get some rest. And, of course, to think.