make up for lost time

She wasn't mad, she wasn't startled. Had she known the whole time that he had been there, staring? Leering like the loathsome mongrel he was? ”I had to return to Legion.” she said quietly. Her voice always struck some kind of chord, deep in his psyche. He'd heard her murmuring to the girls when they'd been born, before their eyes had been open. It made him feel safe. There was a moment's pause before she questioned him, ”You’re Epitaph, right?"

He nodded instinctively, before remembering himself. Fool. Grim's voice snarled in the back of his mind. "Yes, ma'am." he rasped hesitantly. Slowly, he eased his way through the grasses the rest of the way. One delicate forelimb, then the next, thin as the reeds along the shores. When he stood before her, he was overwhelmed by the realization that she was quite small. He felt like he was towering over her, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. It was a strange sensation, and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned hesitantly, peering about for signs of Rhyme or anyone else. He didn't smell anyone nearby. Was she looking for someone? He ought to help her find them. That was the polite thing to do. The slave's task, the cruel snarl of his former master reiterated subconsciously.