#cutpursescraft

‘Shh.’ A large hand clapped Teo on the shoulder and turned him around, until he was facing Oran. He pointed at the figure slumped over the table, who was snoring and holding a fiddle bow in one hand, an empty bottle of mead in the other. ‘He’s sleeping.’

An odd request, but Xisthia had heard stranger. She dropped to the ground, palms flattening against the dirt, and flicked out a tongue. When she pushed herself up again her shoulders were hunched.

Drasonval folded his arms and chewed his bottom lip for a moment.

‘Now why would you say that unless you wanted me to turn around?’ he asked eventually. ‘Say something like that and a mer’s gotta see what the matter is, don’t he? Word of advice, you wanna warn someone about something, be a bit more direct, like.’

J’hasi’s brows rose along with his tail, the tip curling a little behind him.

Halldis sat glaring up at the stranger, hands pressed firmly over the parchment in front of her. He’d been so quiet at first that she’d hardly noticed him at all, but soon it felt as though he was reading over her shoulder. And she did not like it.