Qeya River fables

star eater watched the girl, silent for a moment, observing the flicker of uncertainty that crossed her face. she did not press—there was no need. whatever had sent other shore running had not followed her here. she was safe now.
then rest, she murmured, shifting to her stores of herbs once more. she plucked another bundle, careful in her selection, and set it down before the girl. chew these. they will ease the ache in your muscles.
her voice was even, calm, carrying the kind of authority that left little room for argument but did not demand obedience through force. star eater had learned, over time, that the best way to guide was not with a heavy hand, but with a steady one.
you are safe here, she said, her tone softer now, as if trying to press the words into the girl’s bones. but only if you stay by my side. do you understand?
her gaze was sharp, unwavering. this was not a question, not truly—it was a warning wrapped in care.