Duck Lake Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved

Evander smirked at the look that had momentarily crossed his brother’s face. He knew Everett still wasn’t happy about Tybault being here and Tybault doing this or that, but he was doing a darn decent job at making himself sound like he cared. And Evander reckoned he did care, somewhere deep in that boxed up heart of his. If even just because Tybault was their brother. Actually, probably only because of that.

That was when Tybault materialized.

Parts of him, anyway.

Evander’s jaw slacked but Tybault was talking before he or Everett could even get a word in edgewise. Unnervingly calm, considering the blood that stained him up and down, and that he spat from his very own shredded up mouth.

The heck, Tybault! Evander rushed forward, and his voice cracked with the stress, he did more than kick your ass, he just about ripped it right off! And where was Ophelia? Where was the other guy now? And what were you supposed to do for wounds again? Clean them, clean them with something. Cobwebs? Cobwebs. But what came after that?