Paddles, Promises, and Panic
The next morning, Kamiko's carriages roll out of the Shadowfang village to a send-off loud enough to rattle the shutters, half the tribe lined up along the packed dirt road, banging mugs together and howling their approval into the pale morning sky. In the span of a single night, Val and Lucien have carved themselves permanently into the village's legends, one for a mountain of steaming game meat, the other for turning into an eight-foot wall of shadow-fur and nearly choking their chief out in front of the whole town.
Braska breaks from the crowd, jogging alongside Lucien's carriage with his bandages still fresh, grinning through the pain of it.
"Next time you're through," he bellows up at the window, "I want a rematch! Properly this time, no distractions!"
Lucien leans out, wind whipping his hair back, and grins wide enough to show teeth.
