He refused her offer of bandages. For a moment, Chamera thought she ought to press the issue. She was no Healer, but she didn’t think that his tunic would do much to encourage his welts to heal. Before she could protest, he had tugged the cloth down over his back and slipped away. He was surprisingly light on his feet, considering the extent of his wounds. He had a rogue’s build, certainly. Undoubtedly he had a rather easier time of slipping into shadows than most folk. Her thighs protested as she rose to her feet. Those long hours of running and stumbling had sapped the strength from her body. She pushed herself onwards with sheer force of will, tossing mahogany hair out of her face. She longed for nothing more than the warmth of her bedroll and the blessed world of dreams. Instead, she began to search her bag, withdrawing a small pair of cloth bundles from its considerable depths. The fire was crackling away as she began to prep a cast iron skillet, constructing its suspension with the ease of familiarity. Crumbling the hard tack and sliced cured pork into the pan, she used a small dagger to scoop a small measure of fat out from a little jar. It sizzled with a satisfying enthusiasm. It would not be nearly as satisfying as rabbit or—Gods, how she yearned for it—a home cooked meal. But it would be filling and did not necessitate further exertion. It would do. Chamera’s scarred hand worked at a knot in her neck, trying in vain to ease the ache. She had been on the road for so long. It was time, she decided, to return to a city for a spell. Perhaps they could reach Suzail alive; not only was there a [i]massive[/i] temple to her Lady of Luck, but she could send a message to the Harpers, to old friends, and find a way to fix her mistake. She glanced about for Jeron, a hand resting on her blade out of habit. There—near Pan. She relaxed, jerking her head towards the fire. “Come, eat,” she offered, before returning her attention to her bag to find her bowl and a spare little pot, scrounging up a pair of crude forks to serve the humble meal.