Two Rivers Isle broker no argument

Though it wasn't planned, and far more trouble than most would say is reasonably worth, Magpie would do just about anything for Cormorant, wounded or not. This is to say, anything within reason of what he thought acceptable, and lucky for the shuddering thing, dragging him along to dryer, cleaner ground was well above that.

Magpie stopped just short of the river's edge, eyeing the water critically, as if it were able to alter itself at any moment. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but look he did, for far too long, until a pathetic sound trickling over his shoulder pulled him away. Hm? His spine twitched in an irritated rhythm, still sensing the phantom weight of his muse over sore withers. He winced, brushing it off callously — swiftly turning and taking in an eye full of the wretched lump behind him.

His agitated expression, however, quickly melted into something satisfied, a sense of warmth bleeding into his lungs. He felt needed, even better, a need without desire — a necessity. Sweet thing, you look so tired. Magpie tilted his head, eyeing Cormorant down like some frumpy squirrel. I expected a little more effort from you, Corm. I’m disappointed.