Black Morass timor

mírwen did not continue with their lackadaisical conversation and he was secretly grateful. the focus of their discourse turned back upon him and he shifted against the tree in discomfort, both for his injuries and for her attention.

germanicus felt it was better placed elsewhere. "the only one among us who knows perfunctory medicine is me. there are no friends of either persuasion."

he would not die. the gods had dragged him through things much worse. and the eagle no longer knew if this was a relief or a fear. "do not sign up to tend ageing men too stubborn to avoid a fight," and at last germanicus delivered a cracked grin, genuine if tight now with the pain that had seemed to grow with each moment.