Silver Moraine three hammers

The swarthy man drifted closer. Cambria remained motionless, though his muscles tensed. All thoughts of Etienne emptied from his mind as he focused on the stranger. Neither one of them called out a greeting to the other. That didn’t imply bad intentions—at least, on his part—but there was a decided lack of hospitality.

He could change that, he supposed, but Cambria realized he just wasn’t in the mood to socialize. After yesterday’s events, all he wanted to do was be alone with his thoughts. He decided to offer the stranger a nod of acknowledgement, at the very least, before turning and loping back toward the rise.

He hadn’t even managed to tilt his head before a voice cut into the tense silence. It was the grumble of a hungry beast, demanding to be fed. Cambria blinked and barely resisted looking down at his own belly as the noise awkwardly shifted pitch to sound much more like flatulence.