Swiftcurrent Creek bleak

A chatter at him—unnerving, if it was laughter, but such was the pale girl, it seemed. He studied her for a moment, trying to ignore the pounding of his head and the fatigue of his muscles.

She was keen to scent things out—her interest remained in the more physical aspects of tasks and he considered this a moment. “Cygnet,” he drawled, wondering if she would even bother to pay any attention to him. “You wanna learn to fight and hunt soon?”

He couldn’t teach her now—but when he was better, they could try to tame some of that feral deviousness with some more exertion, perhaps.