Witch's Marsh Unrequited

Hunst's gaze remained cold, unshaken by the outburst. He clenched his jaw, his stance firm as ever.

She’s right around the bend, he muttered, his voice low, as though the matter were trivial to him. Sleeping in a den I dug. The only reason I’m out here is ‘cause of all the damn noise. You think I’m stupid or somethin’? He didn't need to say more—his tone said it all.

And so did her appearance. Caked in mud, drenched in filth. He was no lean clean machine himself, though the perks he had was that Reverie would insist on grooming him. The one thing he wouldn't let her do was get feisty— and Reverie could get pretty snarly if she doesn't get her good rest.