Dragoncrest Cliffs live and die by the gun and the knife

"fine."

It was all he needed to hear. The look on her face very clearly communicated what she thought about chaperoning an underling on what should have been an easy mission, but Sam did not care. If anything, he was delighted – his own mother could not have created a better character.

Her worries about witchwomen and bones did not telegraph to her face, but she would have found a staunch supporter in Sam. He was not much for witchy-woo-woo types. Certainly not ones that had wronged his mistress. 

It felt so right. Sam, servant of.. well, she would tell him eventually.

He was about to turn back in the direction he had come when a thought occurred (halt the presses). "Oh, wait – do you have.. maybe a secret way?" A dark tunnel, perhaps? Sam shivered from the tip of his tail to the tops of his copper-dusted ears.