Emberwood glory and gore

She studied them—the words flowing smoothly from her, educating them while also flexing, it seemed, and he kept careful watch of her, weary—growing tired. They had little choice but to trust her, and Akavir exhaled, a glance cast to Arric. “We can wash up in the creek, then,” he spoke, deciding to take his medicine like a grown man rather than fight it—if this woman knew what she was doing and could assist them, then, it would seem they had won the lottery of sorts.

“We don’t have much for a cache. We’re claiming land at the creek nearby and some rowdy loners thought they’d pick a fight.” He paused, gaze roving over her fox-like features. A dainty thing—small.

“There’s a girl back at the creek, too. Young. She was one of the attackers, but she’s a mess.” He paused, still not sure how Arric felt about their hostage not-hostage situation. “She probably needs someone to look her over, if you can spare the time.”