They came out from the trees together, branches giving way to open ground. Ahead, two women stood near a worn path, speaking in low voices. One held a basket at her hip. The other leaned on a staff cut from green wood.
Vencian slowed his pace. The open space made him aware of his clothes, the dirt on his boots. He watched Seris step forward as if this were expected of her.
He had doubts about walking straight up to strangers. The forest carried too many unknowns. Still, he kept those doubts to himself. Seris had already chosen the approach.
She greeted the women first. Her voice carried cleanly. Vencian stayed half a step behind her, eyes moving between the women's faces and their hands. He saw curiosity there, then caution.
Seris spoke again. The words themselves were polite. The way she held her chin and kept her gaze level stripped that politeness thin. It sounded like a request shaped as a statement.
