Duck Lake karma is the thunder

With the promise of drama, new sights, and smells, she was high on her own supply of serotonin, her logical mind temporarily shrouded in a haze. This phenomenon was rare, but when it happened it was all consuming. 

Akavir quickly brought her down a peg with his question, and she felt herself emerge from her mental fog. She blinked and cleared her throat, wondering why he'd asked if she could fight. 

"I was taught how to defend myself," Rannoch had taught her the basics—but it'd been a few years since she'd practiced, and he wasn't much of a fighter. She hesitated and peeked at him to gauge his reaction.

"I'm a medic," she explained, squinting against the rain as she returned to focus on the road ahead. "So it's been a while since I found myself in a fight."

She turned to him again with her eyebrows raised. "Am I going to have to fight somebody for a den to hide in?" Although her words were intended to be well-meaning, and her voice reflected it, a part of her was serious about the question.