Moonstone Quarry The ground walked here is a wonder

he watched her as she worked—precise, familiar. she knew what she was doing, even when she filled the air with nonsense and sass. maybe because she did.

she does sound awesome, he muttered, half to himself, as if still puzzling it out. a menace. but the good kind.

as the last touch of aloe pressed into the wound, he didn’t wince. just breathed, steady and deep.

then, with something almost like affection:
you’d make a decent sögumaðr, kinusi. you lead with your mouth and heal with it too.

he rose slowly, testing his weight. it held. good enough.

next time i cry, he said, glancing sidelong at her, i expect two liver treats.