Qeya River we'll kill all the beautiful things

Tulukiri scoffed. She didn't need to hear admonishment from a stranger who clearly wasn't a warrior themselves; even if what they said was right, she didn't have to listen to it.

There was much more to learn and the girl had plenty of time to do it, should her pride finally burn low enough to let her. Evidently the darkling was called Amalia, and she had friends in this village, which wasn't surprising on its own.

The conversation's steep shift had caused Tulukiri to rethink her place within it, given that she'd still not made up her mind on the subject. She had a lot to think about.

Y'know, thanks for the mud, but I didn't ask for any opinions. What kinda bedside manner do you call that? Oh, I'm being rhetorical -- that means, I don't care for your answer.

And that was that. Tulukiri thought she'd put up with this woman for long enough, and now sidled along the river's edge, her gait skewed slightly as she tried not to disturb the paste where it sat upon her neck.

[Tulukiri out!]