The moody child looked to him with distaste and anger, her words formed in spite when she made them. He might have won the battle, but no hearts had been turned in the doing. He looked at her solemnly, and he could see her desire to end this camping trip solidify in her mind. Alas, one battle won, another lost. “As my Mistress Commands” he agreed, toeing the fine line between servitude and teacher, as he gave her a deep bow, and fell into line behind and beside her.
The guard walked in silence, offering no input as she searched for the path home. He kept a vigil eye on what was happening around the, and acknowledged Pestilance’s salty attitude at losing - instead of trying to better herself, she would crawl back home. He felt a little drop of disappointment in his student, but he would not let it show. He would be here, regardless, and when she found her fire, he would teach her.
Bloodletter
