Bron nodded at the Prince. They had seen each other but a few weeks ago, so he dispensed with any formalities.

He'd never liked wolves, or dogs. They were only loyal so long as you fed them, and he'd seen plenty starving dogs go rogue on their masters. He tightened his grip on his scabbard, despite the animal walking off, but didn't let his face betray his emotions. He'd gotten good at that, as a Hvar-täk player. 

So this woman was Shi'larra. He'd only heard Edgar speak of her, and was, to tell the truth, expecting what you'd hear in a child's tale. An elderly crone with a pointy hat. She was quite the opposite, she looked younger than Bron, and was strikingly beautiful. He paid no mind to that and instead spoke for the first time since his arrival.

[b]"Why should we listen to you... Sorceress? You've given us no proof of your intentions, nor any reason to trust you. I'm not even sure why I've been summoned half across the fucking country, or who's chasing us. Or indeed what."[/b]