Nothing? There weren’t doing anything? Darin didn’t like that at all. She didn’t know who the man was, but she knew that whatever was planning could not be good. It needed to be stopped. Then again, she didn’t know much about fighting or tactics. She was a farmer and the most strategy she ever had was deciding what crops to put where. Darin might not like it, bur Ridahne had a better idea of what strategies would be best. Besides, the human wasn’t quite sure what to make of the look on the Elf’s face. She decided not to push any more than she already had. So, instead she grabbed the mug and plate handed to her and followed Ridahne to sit down.

As she sat down, she told the Elf, “I don’t think it was either.”

Darin couldn’t imagine the person she met was actually a man. Being a man implied some wort of decency. She didn’t think he had any. Being a beast meant he should be more concerned for basic things like food, water, and other things for survival. He seemed to calculating for that. Darin almost wanted to call him a monster. Something that did evil for evil’s sake and evil’s sake only. That didn’t seem right either. He wanted something. What that something was the girl could only guess at. 

Darin told her companion that, “I think he’s a monster. I’m not sure.”

With that sure turned her attention to her meal. When she took a swallow of her drink, she almost coughed it back up. Only sheer force of will made her swallow it. That had not been water. Darin was not sure what it was, but it didn’t taste very good. Luckily her mother had taught her good manners. Ridahne was buying her supper. It would be rude to complain about it. She was not looking forward to it. Oh well. She could be falling off another cliff.

Darin started on the plate of stew. That was the best thing Darin had ever tasted. That was probably a little bit of exaggeration. She had been surviving on increasing stale crackers and dried beef. The vegetables were over cooked, and the beef was a little tough. It could have used less salt. It still fabulous. Most likely she ate it too fast. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to waste time and let it get cold. She then choked on the last bite of it. The feeling that had come from the man with the teal eyes was back.

Darin looked up from her food. She did her best to make look like she had just finished her meal and was reevaluating her situation. As causally as possible she grabbed the mug to bring it to her lips. Her eyes went wide as she saw who had just walked in. The extreme desire to scream had returned.

Instead she softly nudged Ridahne with her toe. (It may have been more of a kick. She wasn’t sure.) Her whisper sounded hoarse, “Ridahne!” She jerked her head towards the door, “There.”

It was the man with the teal eyes. This time he was joined by two other people. Both were human. One was male. The other was female. The male was armed with two thin knifes strapped to each side of his waist. They were almost as long as Ridahne’s sword. He was bald and his head sported a number of blood red tattoos. The female was about Darin’s height but looked denser. Her bow was unstrung, but the quiver on her back was full of arrows. The teal eyed man did not appear to be armed.

The man looked around. When he saw Darin he smiled what she supposed was supposed to be a charming smile. He came over and with a laugh said, “I told you I would be seeing you again. I’m Mark.” He pointed at the man, “This is Luke.” He moved to the woman, “And Sara.” He held out his hand to Darin, “I didn’t get your name?”

The lie came out so easily it shocked Darin, “Martin Lively.”

Darin was not accustomed to flat out lying. Hopefully Ridahne wouldn’t call her on it. For a brief moment she needed it to be true. She knew how she had picked that name even if she had picked it as she was saying it. Martin was her father; the one that had left without given any reason why. She had her mother hadn’t used that name since. He was always “that man.” It was still a name Darin thought of everyday. Lively was the name of town closest to her village. Hopefully it made an acceptable surname, Darin had never bothered with one of those before.

She took his hand for the briefest of moments before he turned his attention to Ridahne, “Now what is a beauty like you traveling with a scamp like him for?”

Darin didn’t know what Ridahne was planning to tell him but knew that they needed to tell this man anything, but the truth. She wished she had a way to tell Ridahne that. She hoped the Elf got that. The Seed had burned while she was touching him again. She needed to look to see how the band was holding up. She didn’t think she could lose The Seed; she felt it in the back of her mind at all times. That didn’t mean she wanted to misplace it either. She couldn’t do it now though. Not while Mark was here. She almost hoped that Ridahne just ran him threw. That would at least get rid of the nasty feeling. The problem was that Mark hadn’t done anything yet. Darin only had her instincts to go on. Unfortunately, that was not a good enough reason to skewer someone.