Hoshor Plains laced up boots, wandering soul

Valiant meant to stand before her, but he was pleased when she stood beside him instead. He was preternaturally aware of every inch of her small frame when her shoulder pressed against his. He leaned back with a fraction of his weight. Like a Christian side hug, except the kind where Jesus shakes his finger at you because you're sniffing the other person like a creep.

Valiant searched their surrounding for the children, and his eyes fell on them with a violent pang. He felt her weight in the pit of his stomach, then, rather than against his side. He felt — hobbled. He couldn't move without disturbing her, and he wanted nothing less than he wanted her disturbed.

"Are you gonna hunt with us?" he asked her, his voice pitched low. "I could bring 'em somethin' back, if you want. Or somethin' for you."