Sometimes, no matter how heartfelt, a tearful speech can't change the mind of a lost greenhorn.
Before the sun rose, the Wood Elf Freyla left the temporary camp. She left The Stillness. The idea that the Forest of Nature could be renamed was something she, and likely many others, could never accept.
Aerin stood at the edge of the camp, a solitary figure staring into the dark woods. She had been the one to see Freyla off. Her eyes were dull, her spirit at its lowest ebb. She was now truly, completely alone.
"You're not going to comfort her?" Tangere's voice was a low murmur from behind Orion. "A woman is most vulnerable when she's feeling down. A shoulder to lean on goes a long way."
And a vulnerable woman is the easiest to conquer, was the part he didn't say. He didn't need to. He was sure Orion understood the implication.
"Do you want a weak ally," Orion asked without turning, "or a strong one?"
