Swiftcurrent Creek copper thunder

Warrior, he replied without hesitation.

Wife would leave, like Jakoul had.

Wife, he had no use for.

But what would you want—?

His query was abruptly severed by the appearance of a shadow, as if he looked in some distorted mirror. Older, well-muscled, more seasoned. . .

He gave Akavir a respectful, if brusque, dip of his chin, then turned back to the woman as if the man's interruption was no more than a fly buzzing in his ear, or a niggling itch in his throat.

Who do you want to be? Hex asked her.

For he knew he'd be better off trying to move the mountain on his back than order this spitfire around, no matter her diminutive size.