Shunya sat cross-legged on the grass, mud streaking his shirt and one sleeve torn halfway down the arm. His hair was a wild mess, and he was pretty sure there was still swamp gunk stuck to his ear.
"I think," he said between breaths, "I left part of my soul back there in the mud."
Naomi crouched in front of him, tilting her head. "You look like a drowned chicken."
"That's… specific."
She grinned, clearly pleased with herself. "A very slow drowned chicken."
Vikoria arrived, carrying three small bottles of clear liquid. "Drink." She handed one to each of them.
Shunya sniffed his suspiciously. "This isn't swamp water, right?"
"It's recovery tonic," she said. "Stops your muscles from locking up. Also helps with minor bruising."
He took a sip and made a face. "Tastes like tree bark boiled in regret."
"Better than dying," Naomi said, downing hers in one go.
