Greatwater Lake No peace for the wicked

The information doesn't change much. He doesn't question what is said, and doesn't move away from the lakeside. Neither does she, which he points out; they're both here in this place she should be protecting in the name of Akashingo, or at the very least for herself given her history with it—and, yet.

No. She counters, but her voice does waver a touch. Lake was mine, called it Greatwater. A man took it from me and I took it back. That was before. That wasn't alone. Couldn't do it without help—paid with land, and blood. Blunt as she sounded, Zharille was trying to explain all that she had done to keep it.

Her scowl deepend. Nowhere to go, now.

Don't go south, she advised with a malevolent glint in her eye, her hatred of the kingdom stirring. Desert dogs only know how to take.