Swiftcurrent Creek nightshade

A threat, and then the ‘tuta runa’—her eyes fierce, but he had come to expect no less from the warrior. After the threat, an offer—and then a demand.

Why would she wish to further hurt her ankle?

“If you fight with your ankle, it might get worse,” he offered—perhaps she had not understood Arlette when they spoke. It was clear this was not her native language. “You fight, you might not be able to use it again.” A pointed look— “So you do not fight. Not yet.”

He allowed the question of why he avoided her to linger between them—how was that not obvious? He didn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust her.

“You do not need to fight to pay your debt.”

With that, he sidestepped, allowing her the room to leave the den should she choose before he ducks back--an ear swiveling to the call of the early songbirds.