Chapter 7

In the background, trickling water echoed from everywhere. Subtle waves lapped at the rocky shore as stray droplets fell into puddles.

Linh barely listened as she leaned back on her arse with straightened arms and stared up at the Duskwalker towering over her. His orbs were such a dark green they were swallowing, and somehow menacing.

She didn't feel fear. How could she? So what if their little swim was frightful and she'd almost drowned part way through? He'd saved her from... Bragg.

Gosh, when she'd heard that stomping, gruesome bear of a man getting closer, she'd wanted to crawl out of her skin. To shed it, if it meant removing the memory of his touch upon it. She'd wanted to dive into the water, into this Duskwalker's maw, anything to escape him.

The serpent creature before her had done just that: given her a way out.

She barely made him out in the low light. Thin streaks of sunlight dimly illuminated the area, just enough that she could still make out parts of him, the cave, and the wide expanse of lake beside her. Much of the cavern was shadowed and dark, but that was fine since she could see.

A broken and weak smile curled her lips. "T-thank you for saving me... again," she stated, hoping he could hear her sincerity despite her shivering.

The water had been icy, and her clothing and hair were soaked. Her bun had come loose, revealing a thick braid that swung behind her.

The Duskwalker pushed back as he bundled his long tail underneath himself and sat in the middle. He folded his arms, while something swayed back and forth in the curl of his hovering tail tip.

Since he appeared displeased, she averted her gaze to the ground next to her. I must admit, he did frighten me earlier.

The voices which he'd spoken to her with... She shivered in repulsion at the thought of them. They had been haunting, and she couldn't help thinking they sounded far too human for something like him. Somehow, she knew they were the voices of people he'd eaten.

I can't be a hypocrite. I can't be thankful he ate those bandits for me, but horrified that he ate other humans. It'd be cruel otherwise. So long as he doesn't hurt me...

Unable to stop herself, her gaze slipped back to him.

She blushed when she noted how strong his flexing biceps, chest, and abdomen muscles looked. Perhaps because he'd been her saviour multiple times, she oddly thought him attractive. Even his white, viper-like skull didn't diminish his appeal, although it also did instil a deep-seated wariness within her.

When she wrapped her arms around herself, he tilted his head at her for it. He slowly brought her bag forward with his tail and let it slip into her lap.

Then he turned, slithering off into a particularly dark section of the cavern. He was gone, and since he didn't exit into the light on the other side, she guessed there was a cave tunnel opening there.

Her muscles eased, his daunting presence no longer weighing on her, and it allowed her to roam her gaze over the area. The chamber itself was oval, with noticeable edges between the ceiling, walls, and floor. Grey, maroon, and white stone streaked the walls, and she didn't know what kind of rock sediment they were.

Two-thirds of the area was made up of an inky and frightful lake – who knew what could be lingering in it, ready to gobble her up? The rest of the cavern was made of natural stone ledges in the shape of a crescent moon. Where she sat was the widest section of land.

Bryophytes such as dragon's gold moss and liverwort plants clung to rocky surfaces, especially in the ceiling where cracks of light twinkled in. It gave the area an earthy, dewy scent.

The air wasn't stale, but had a mild taste of brine to it, as if sea air was pushing in somehow. A sharp whistle of wind came from where he'd disappeared, further proving her theory that there was an exit to this cave.

That's handy to know. Should she need an easier way out, there may be one.

Scraping noises drew her wandering eye back to where he'd disappeared from, and the Duskwalker returned with a massive tree branch.

He's so quiet. If it weren't for the broken limbs scratching the wall, she wouldn't have heard him slithering closer. She didn't like that she could easily be snuck up on, but she'd make do.

The Duskwalker came near her and then rested back on his tail folded beneath his humanoid torso. He snapped the branch into many little pieces with nothing but his hands and sheer strength – even when it was as thick as his meaty arm.

Placing a thick log in the middle, rocks scraped against the ground as he put them in a circle. He threw smaller pieces of wood on top of the log.

Once he was done, his body making very little noise, he gestured to it. Her brows drew together, and she shook her head.

"I don't understand."

He snorted out a loud huff and then wrapped his arms around his torso. He rubbed his hands up and down his biceps and mimed a shiver.

"Oh," she stated, a small flush heating her cheeks.

He made me a campfire, duh. It was rather obvious, now that she thought about it. He must have seen me start the last fire.

Linh put it up to being utterly freaked out. She wasn't in an optimal state of mind, still whirling from the fact this Duskwalker spoke with voices of those he'd eaten, Bragg almost finding her again, and nearly drowning. She also struggled to think past the way her toes, fingers, and nose burned with a coldness.

On her hands and knees, she crawled over to the ring of stones. She pulled out a fire-starting kit from a decently watertight ceramic jar in her bag. She cracked her flint and steel, her numb fingers and hands shaking as she worked to start it.

Her eyes grew wide when he leaned forward until he was above her. She couldn't feel his heat, but his presence was far too large to ignore.

After she dropped the flint multiple times while trying to ignore the way his dominating essence affected her, he eventually cupped his hand over the flint on the ground. He picked it up, then waved his fingers at her. She gripped the steel with uncertainty and turned to him.

His bony face was less than a foot from her own, and her skin prickled with how close he was. He waved his fingers at her again, and she looked down. Hesitating, hoping she wasn't misreading what he wanted, she placed the steel in his outreaching palm.

His claws, not particularly sharp, poked into her inner wrist. She tried not to touch him, just in case, but she noted how tiny her hand was in comparison to him.

Although Linh was almost five feet and five inches tall, which was average for a woman, this Duskwalker had to be six times that in length, if not more. Now that she was utterly alone with him in a confined space, their differences in size and strength became more apparent.

He was big – and frightening. He was also quiet, making it hard to gauge him. A silent predator.

Snakes usually ate prey of varying sizes, but most were small, like mice and rabbits. That was their size difference, Linh nothing more than a tiny piece of meat.

If she were to curl herself into a ball, she thought she may be able to fit completely within his torso. His head was also huge, twice the size of her own, and she'd seen his lower jaw segments split apart like a snake. He'd have no trouble swallowing a kicking and screaming Linh whole.

She flinched as he struck the flint and steel together, and she darted her gaze to the campfire. He was able to put in a lot more strength to his hits, and he not only started the fire, but also broke off a chunk of flint. Flames slowly came to life, and it eased her.

"Were you watching me to know how to do it yourself?" she asked, hoping to fill the tense silence between them.

After placing the stones upon the ground next to her, he nodded as he pulled back to rest on himself. He huddled down until all that could be seen was his chest, and he crossed his arms on a coil of his thick tail.

He nodded. Okay, that means he wasn't being creepy. She thought he'd been inspecting her, and not the task.

Since the wood was dry, it didn't take long to begin burning. Linh removed her jacket, laying it on the ground near the flames so the rest of her could dry off. She wiggled her hands out to the heat, and even removed her waterlogged shoes and socks to better soak it in.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking up at the mossy ceiling. She received no answer. "I never would have imagined there was an underwater lake here. How did you find it?"

Nothing.

Hmm. Maybe he'll only answer yes or no questions?He did respond earlier, after all.

Linh licked at her lips nervously. "Is this... your home?" He nodded. "Do you have a name?"

He nodded again before laying his head upon his folded arms resting on his tail. He'd made himself comfortable, and obviously had no qualms about rudely staring at her.

The fire reflected in his ebony scales, glinting with a rainbow sheen she found rather pretty. He was quite close to the fire, and he seemed to be enjoying soaking up its heat as much as she was, considering he'd never moved away from it.

"So, you have a name. Will you tell me what it is?" she asked, trying to get him to talk. When he didn't say anything, just stared without moving, she added, "I'm Linh Nguyen, by the way."

He lifted his head just enough so that he could raise his hands. Then with one palm flat and sticking upwards, he drew on it with the foreclaw of his right hand.

Shaking her head, her lips pursed and her brows drew together. "Are you asking me how to spell it?"

Bright yellow lifted into his glowing orbs, and he nodded.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you didn't just say that. I heard you speak earlier."

This time, reddish pink flared into his orbs, and he patted at the front of his snout. He shook his head, and she tried to decipher what he was saying with his gestures.

"You... can speak, but you also can't?" she asked, squinting one eye when she wasn't sure.

He pointed a claw at her and nodded.

"I see..." She averted her gaze to the fire before needing to bring it back to him so she could read him. "You can only speak with the voices of those you've... eaten?"

She threw her hands up when he shook his head, as if that was incorrect.

He snickered, then slipped forward to scratch his claw against the ground. She watched him, her eyes growing wide when she realised he was writing something. He was slow and seemed to second guess what he was writing as he hesitated at each letter.

When he was done, she braved coming a little closer so she could twist her head and read the words from his perspective.

Her expression scrunched up, since it made little sense. My voice lost?

"So, you used to be able to speak?"

The Duskwalker nodded and scratched out more words. Voices not mine. Hurt.

"It pains you to speak with the voices of people you've eaten?"

His skull dipped up and down, informing her she was correct. She inwardly groaned as she rubbed her cheek. Well, that makes communicating with him difficult. She eyed the crudely written and shaky words, as if he wasn't confident. She figured trying to communicate through writing would prove difficult with more complex words, especially since they didn't have parchment.

He wrote again. Nathair.

"Nathair?" She winced, not knowing this word.

He patted his chest and then pointed at it.

"Oh!" She gave him a hopeful smile. "Your name is Nathair?"

His orbs brightened in their yellow glow, and he reached for her hand, enveloping it with both of his. He also inadvertently explained what the colour meant by doing so: joy.

She smiled at that, while trying not to rip her hand from him. Thankfully he let go swiftly.

"Well, Nathair, it's a pleasure to meet you." It really was, all things considered. She wouldn't be alive, nor free, if it wasn't for him. He attempted to write something, which only softened her gaze. "Linh has an ‘h' at the end. L-i-n-h, that's how you spell my name."

He added the letter and tilted his head inquisitively at her. She couldn't help the giggle that bubbled.

"Yes, that's correct."

As he slinked back within himself, plopping his head down to rest, a soft rumbling came from him. She didn't know if that was a growl or a purr, but she was hoping for the latter.

Heat rose into her cheeks, and she cuddled towards the fire more. Is he seriously purring? I didn't think Duskwalkers could do that.

Then again, she knew very little about them.

Texts always said they were destructive and violent. Nathair had shown those qualities, but he'd also been protective. Even the one who exchanges a protection ward for a human offering couldn't be trusted. Many villages who received such news considered this to be a made-up story. Her people told this tale as a way to keep young children from doing the wrong thing: "If you don't behave, the Duskwalker will come and take you as a sacrifice."

They said he always wore a scent barrier cloth over his snout.Here Nathair was, not wearing one, and he seemed fine. He hadn't even tried to eat her once.

"If... you brought me here," she started, flicking her gaze to his bony face. "Does that mean you'll help us?"

He immediately shook his head, and her bottom lip stuck forward into a pout.

"Why not?"

He proved he was indeed purring when that rumbling morphed into an obvious growl. He pointed at her.

"You won't because of me?" He shook his head and poked the air to show he was pointing at her. Her brows knitted together, then she guessed, "You'll only protect me?"

He nodded, and Linh sighed. I guess that's better than nothing.

She looked away to stare at the flames, wondering what she was to do then. Does that mean I could... force him to come with me? She didn't really like the idea of tricking the Duskwalker, but if she was to go to one of the towns, would he chase after her? That's if he intends to keep me here captive.

If she escaped, would he save her if Bragg's men tried to take her? He would be forced to intervene then.

Her heart twisted at being so deceiving.

He could also choose not to save me. She would need to trust that he would, and she didn't know if she was willing to risk it.

I don't know if I trust him. Not that deeply, at least.

Bragg was an unkind man. Randy had only echoed Bragg's threat that if she ran away a second time, he'd cut one of her Achilles tendons. He didn't care if she would limp for the rest of her life with a foot she could barely move, so long as she was within his grasp.

She hadn't made it far the first time she fled, which was a month ago. She barely made it a hundred metres before she was dragged back by her hair while she kicked and screamed.

There are worse monsters than Demons and Duskwalkers, she thought, as liquid bubbled in her eyes.

She wished her memories of all the abuse she'd suffered would cease existing, but they were too fresh. A week ago, she'd suffered. She'd come to accept her torture through prolonged exposure, but it also meant her mind had locked her emotions away regarding it.

At the time, she'd silently shed tears and gritted her teeth, but now that she was free... it was like she couldn't hold back the grotesque and frightening images.

Her skin didn't itch, nor did it feel dirty – especially not after her cold dip in the water – but she did feel... unclean. She didn't have the urge to scrub at her flesh until it turned raw, but her essence felt unfairly tainted. Something had been stolen from her, and she worried this would forever cling to her mind like sticky mud.

She didn't want it to. She would rather remove those memories and pretend they never happened. That, for the past few months, Linh hadn't existed. From the day she'd been walked out of her village, to when she woke up that first time sitting against the boulders next to the Duskwalker's pond, she wanted it to all fade away.

It's not fair. She clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to push all of it to the back of her mind and lock it away. She'd been so close to being trapped once more. If this Duskwalker had left her to defend herself... Oh gods. I don't want to think about what would have happened.

Linh sucked in a breath when a gentle pressure wrapped around the bottom of her jaw. She opened her eyes as she was forced to look upon the Duskwalker, who had silently come closer. He lifted her face with his entire hand, his orbs a dark yellow.

I thought yellow meant joy. She knew the darkness of it didn't when he tilted his head questioningly. His claws weren't sharp, but they still felt deadly as they lightly pressed into her cheeks and throat.

Linh froze when he came even closer and sniffed one of her cheeks with less than an inch of room separating them.

"A-are you wondering why I'm crying?" she asked.

Her skin prickled when a long and purple tongue flicked forward. It wasn't entirely shaped like a serpent's, since it was thicker, but it was forked at the tip. It wiggled near her skin, and she swore the very points of it just ghosted against her – precariously close to the outer corner of her eye.

She backed away while swiping where he'd... tasted the scent of her tears?

"It's nothing," she lied.

When he didn't let her chin and jaw go, instead holding her gaze, her skin flushed with shame.

She felt like a crybaby, when she'd never particularly been that way before. How do I put all the tears I've shed back inside me? she thought with a sniffle.

"It's fine. I just have a lot on my mind."

As if he could read the truth, a soft and quiet growl rumbled from him as his orbs turned red. He gently released her and pulled back to lie down like before. With his head on his arms, he let out a snorting huff.

Despite knowing she'd annoyed him, she didn't expand further. Talking about it meant vocalising it was real and had happened, which took it from her innermost thoughts and gave it to the world. In doing so, it would no longer become forgettable, as it would linger in someone else's mind – even a monster's.

Maybe that was another reason she wanted Bragg, and all his men who knew what had happened to her, dead. Not for vengeance, but to erase any evidence of it beyond herself. People were witnesses, and it lingered in the subconsciousness of their minds.

Linh wanted to snuff that out permanently.

Ignoring Nathair in the periphery of her vision, the longer Linh sat by the fire, the less she shivered. Her clothes dried.

After a while of her thoughts spiralling, a soft snore stole her attention. She fully turned to the Duskwalker who had fallen asleep near the fire.

Her crinkled brow of concern settled as surprise overshadowed her musings.

One of his arms had slipped forward to dangle, while the other rested under his twisted head. He looks like he just passed out.

She wondered if her presence, and her constant needing to be saved, had meant he hadn't slept. She didn't dare go near him, since he was a predator who was in a vulnerable state, but it was kind of sweet that he'd suffered for her sake.

He stated that speaking with the voices of those he ate hurts. It probably wore him down.

Since he fell asleep, she figured the area must be safe then. So, she just soaked in the flames, and tried to figure out what decisions she should make. I don't know what to do. No matter what she did, everything was a risk. She was one woman in a world filled with fangs and claws.

For now, she could stay here until her food ran out. Here was safe while she collected herself mentally, and finally rested – after what felt like two months of utter hell.

If he wouldn't aid her people, she would leave to go to the towns below the mountain range.

I can't stay here if there's no point to it,she thought, just as a small whimper made her frown.

Muscles twitched and clenched as the grip of a fragment clutched at him in the form of a nightmare. Images flashed, penetrating his mind with a confused chaos he found difficult to grasp.

Shuddering, he burrowed within the folds of his coiled tail to shelter himself. It was a useless attempt, as he couldn't escape the delusion that masked itself as his own memory.

A woman shrieked, and it seemed to come from his own lips as well. His tail had split into two limbs, and they shot excruciating pain up his legs as a boulder crushed them. Oddly enough, he sought mercy from a Demon, hoping it would eat him as it approached his trapped form lost in the darkness of a mining cave.

‘Please,' he begged, wanting to escape the agony.

As soon as fangs lanced his throat, he awoke with the long length of his tail propped up over his back. Huffing breaths fell from his parted maw as his chest heaved with anxiety.

The scream continued to ring, battering around inside his skull like a creature trying to escape its cage. A moment of lucidity allowed him to fully wake from the fragment, when usually it would make him suffer for endless hours – punishing him for truly falling asleep, rather than just open-sighted resting.

Leaning upright on straightened arms, as if he'd darted up to defend himself against his fragment nightmare, he panted in fear. With his own claws embedded inside his limb all the way to his finger pads, and orbs white, he found the female still seated by the fire.

Her palms were flat as they faced towards the flames. At first, he thought she hadn't noticed what had just occurred, but she eventually flicked her sparkling brown eyes towards him. They appeared like molten bronze with the fire reflecting in them.

"I guess I'm not the only one with memories that haunt them," she quietly mumbled. Then her cheeks reddened, as if she hadn't meant to say that aloud. "Never mind. Bad dream? You were whimpering a lot."

The reddish pink of embarrassment filled his sight. Nathair grumbled to himself as his tongue smacked inside his mouth, irritation evident.

I hate these dreams. They infrequently bombarded him, but that one in particular had come to the forefront because of her. This is why I choose not to sleep. A choice made from necessity, and one he couldn't always adhere to – every living creature needed sleep. Nathair's attempt at thwarting the need often saw him losing that battle after weeks.

He finally unlatched his claws, hissing in pain as he did, to scratch at the side of his neck. He shuddered, as a new fragment continued to flicker in his mind's eye, although much more faded and quieter.

It was unwise of me to bring her here. His nightmare was just a reminder.

Despite his desire to protect the small prey before him, the little bunny he'd found, she was in danger every second she sat there. He may lash out in his sleep or, worse still, while he was awake but semi-conscious. A fragment, if not contained, could drive him to momentary madness, and cause him to act irrationally and with deep confusion.

Despite his short sleep, exhaustion weighed on him due to her disturbing him. He needed to let his mind recuperate in order to hold back the barrage that constantly battered him within it.

Nathair turned his skull away to look at the wall.

I miss home. His simple rock and his false lake in Tenebris. It'd been his home for over two hundred and eighty years. His life may have been boring, but it had been easy and mostly untroubled – from environmental factors, at least. This life was too messy, too confusing.

Now, he was doing foolish things, like keeping this female as some kind of human pet.

What must I do to keep her content and safe? Feed her, give her water, a bed, and... pat her on the head? Why was it my territory she found?

Had she gone to another pond just a little east of his own, he wouldn't have grown curious about her.

Instead, he was finding himself oddly entranced by the beautiful female he currently had in his keeping. Worse still, he liked that her peach-and-vanilla scent was filling up his home. The desire to scoop her up and place her in his nest itched at his scales, and he was failing to control the urge.

He specifically hadn't looked towards it until he finally dropped his sight down from the wall to it. Although it would look like a lumpy rock in the darkness to a human, he could see something glinting from the recess of his walled, bird-like nest covered in animal skins.

Since Nathair was much taller than her, he doubted she'd see the way his nest gleamed in the firelight. The sparkling caught his eye, and it made his chest swell as dark green filled his sight.

He snapped his head away, averting his gaze before he was truly mesmerised by it. No. Do not place the little human in your nest. Because, once things were placed there, he had a tendency to become violently possessive about them.

Things in his nest, especially pretty little things, were his.

For now, she was still separated from it. Should she request her departure, he may more readily give it if he didn't mentally or physically place her in it. He'd already brought her to his home and was feeling rather... inclined to keep her here.

It was best that he didn't deepen his attachment until she made up her mind. Hopefully, she gave up on him. If she did, then he could wipe his hands of this female, who was in just as much danger being here with him as out in the mountain ranges.

"A-are you bleeding?" her sweet, high-pitched voice asked. It was shaken and unsure.

Nathair brought his gaze to her. Dark brows were furrowed in his direction while her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip. He looked down at the eight tracks of blood currently dripping from his own tail. He covered one of his own claw punctures with a hand, wincing as he did.

This is nothing. He'd done much worse to himself on accident since coming back to life.

"I have some medicinal herbs, if you need them," she offered.

When he lifted his skull to her, she darted her face away as if to nervously hide it. Then she dragged her bag closer and dug through it. A brown cloth pouch was pulled from it, as well as her drinking sack. She stood and tentatively came closer with her hands out.

"Do you want me to take a look at it? It wouldn't be good if they became infected." Linh licked at her lips and inched closer, bit by bit. "It's the least I can do for you."

Unable to answer, Nathair just tilted his head in puzzlement that she'd even suggested it, and that she was choosing to come closer. Although the front of her clothes had dried, her back still looked rather saturated. He thought she'd rather remain near the warmth.

She wishes to aid me? He didn't understand this female.

Not only was she not afraid of him, although wisely wary, she was showing him kindness. He'd never experienced kindness from another who wasn't one of his own creators. Even the few Mavka he'd met, Merikh and Aleron, had not shown him such care.

When she was less than a foot away from him, he clasped her hand holding the pouch. She gasped lightly and halted. A frown marred her features when he pushed her hand down and shook his head, making the tiniest sound of dry bones rattling together.

He didn't need, nor want, her help. I will heal tomorrow. Has she not noticed my wounds from the bandit attack have faded already? If he'd needed help at any point, it would have been then – not that he would have allowed her this close to him.

Now that she was nearer, so was the freshness of her scent as it poured straight off her skin.

"You don't want my help?" she asked, only to squeak when he lowered his head to sniff at her cheek.

The smell of her tears lingers. Nathair was rather put off by it. At least she is no longer spilling them.

Since she wouldn't explain why she cried, he, at the time, thought she may have done so because he'd brought her here. What right did she have to cry about the safety he provided beneath the ground, when she annoyingly pleaded for it?

He didn't like feeling guilty, and long ago realised he was rather sensitive and susceptible to such a horrid emotion. Whenever his orbs flared a darker orange, he had a tendency to berate himself – even if he didn't understand why. The emotion was one that tended to squeeze behind his sternum, as if punishing him for even the tiniest fault.

To make himself feel better, he'd chosen to believe her tears weren't due to him. Therefore, there was little he could do to make sure she didn't spill more. It's not like he could ask her, so she would have to choose whether to tell him or not.

He almost snorted a singular dark chuckle. Doubtful. It is unlikely she will seek comfort from something like me.

To her kind, he was a monster. Mavka were, in fact, just that. Born and bred for destruction, in order to ferry more souls.

To cleanse them so their father did not have to and then ferry them once they'd finished eating their real prey: Demons. Although their insatiable hunger was a nasty byproduct of the need to find a bride, take their soul, and bond it to them eternally, Weldir had wished for their creation to destroy Demons.

Humans were just unfortunate casualties in a tiny war the untouchable god had created.

Still, the fact that this little female had offered to assist him was rather tender, and her scent under the lingering saltiness of her tears had him sniffing for more. His tongue tingled with the desire to see if she tasted how she smelt.

She lifted her shoulder and stumbled back to escape, and Nathair reared his head back. His sight shifted to reddish pink once more when he realised what he'd been doing, and he slunk back to rest upon himself. Linh covered the side of her face he'd been sniffing with the back of her hand, her palm towards him as her cheeks seemed to darken.

She is rather... meek. Even though she'd been stubborn and as unmoving as he could be, she was showing she had a softness to her.

To his dismay, he found that rather endearing.

He was rather fond of non-threatening things. And, from the memory of when he'd been in pain and shivering from the coldness of blood loss, he knew her to be remarkably soft. She was small, and wouldn't fill much space, but he already knew her to be warm and feminine to lie with.

"If you don't mind, could you show me a place that I can use to go to the toilet and bathe?" she muttered quietly, her cheeks flaring once more as she looked away. Linh rubbed at her arm. "I'm sure you don't want me to do that just anywhere, and I'd prefer privacy. I also... um, I don't feel comfortable peeing near the water, since you obviously swim and breathe in it."

He lifted his gaze to the moss-covered rock ceiling of his cave. I forgot other creatures have these urges. Where could she do these things in his home?

I do have a hidden area which contains a sprinkle of water that washes out to the ocean. It was dark, though, and he doubted she'd be able to see the way. It could also be dangerous if she went there without him to guard her.

Nathair had no ward in place, and there was a large beach entering into this cave system.

So long as she only does these things throughout the day, it should be fine. With a sigh, Nathair unfurled himself and slunk to the side, hoping she'd follow. I will have to scout each morning to make sure no Demons have snuck inside and tucked themselves away.

He didn't know how to explain this to her.