Swiftcurrent Creek People Talking Without Speaking

Moving forward at his companions coaxing, Akavir stilled, holding back the light wince as a new paste was smeared on him. It stunk less—thankfully. Maybe, one day soon, he would smell like a walking herb den.

“A pack of two,” he agreed, casting the man a quick glance. “You seem a good sort. Anything I should know about you?”

Probably questions that would have been better asked prior to agreeing to coexist with the man.