Witch's Marsh prorsus

"is that the truth?" germanicus mused, suddenly unsure of what to do with the spice-eyes, the intrigue that flared through ico's pretty face. it was, again, as though a bold woman were looking upon him, some string of the divine feminine worked through his companion. he did not understand, and felt heat lick beneath his collarbones.

"it is not interesting work at all," he assured ico. "patrols. councils. endless meetings. if your land had many guards, as mine did, then there was no reason for war. and when war came, it was too swift to be called much of anything." it was perhaps the longest he had spoken to a stranger; germanicus rolled his shoulders in a shrug and pulled ahead somewhat, seeking the trail of nearby hares.