When she turned to see Kael standing up, she panicked and went to her side, only to notice that something was missing, turning her head, there was a large weapon next to where Kael had just sat foot. A large saber.

The movement was abrupt enough that mud cracked on her sleeves. One second she’d been focused on the boar’s flesh, knife working fast, greedy, practiced, and the next she snapped around like she’d heard a predator breathe.

Her eyes hit Kael first, wet hair, bare chest, water still streaming down him, and then flicked away, searching for leverage. They landed on the spot by the bank where she’d clearly expected steel, his steel.

Empty.

He had none.

The panic sharpened, turning into a quick, desperate calculation. Someone who walked on you like this, without a weapon, wasn’t someone simple. He even ignored her own blade and moved toward her.

Danger.

Extreme danger, more dangerous than all those that chased her down.

They had blades and weapons on them yet felt harmless.

He had nothing, but made her feel stuck in a tiger infested cave. Especially with that bored yet annoyed expression on his face.

Kael’s frown wasn’t anger. It was annoyance, the kind you get when you realize a problem just walked into your day without asking.

Kael frowned, then she grabbed the dagger, "I mean no harm, just needed some food, I’ll be on my way." She said.

The dagger wasn’t much, short, chipped at the edge, the kind of knife you used for skinning, not dueling. But she held it like it was the only boundary between her and being swallowed. Her knuckles went pale, and the point of the blade lifted a fraction, aimed at Kael’s torso because it was the biggest target she could see.

Kael didn’t rush. He didn’t even hurry his steps.

Water dripped off his elbows and ribs, pattering into the grass like a slow clock. His hands hung loose at his sides, empty, which only made the scene worse. A man with nothing in his hands and no fear in his posture was either stupid or dangerous.

"Quite the way to ask someone for food, no?" Kael approached her.

The angle of his approach put him between her and the hung carcass. Not fully blocking her escape route, he wasn’t that charitable, but narrowing it enough that she’d feel it. He watched her eyes flick to his hands, then to his shoulders, then to his feet.

She tried to keep her face hard. Tried to hold the dagger steady. Then her stomach betrayed her with a deep, ugly growl that cut through the river’s hiss like a confession.

Her face turned a fraction red, or maybe that was her complexion, Kael didn’t know.

Kael’s gaze stayed on her, but his attention moved to details: the way her weight sat too far back on her heels, the faint tremble in her wrist, the slick shine of dried blood on her fingers. Hungry people did dumb things.

Desperate people did worse.

He clicked his tongue, "Master’s gonna tear me a new one for what you just did. He likes that part the most," Kael said. "Also, who are you?" He asked.

The mention of his master wasn’t for sympathy. It was a warning disguised as complaining, Kael’s favorite style. He didn’t say I’ll kill you or back off. He said something that implied there were bigger monsters nearby than him.

"Just a passerby..." she said.

The answer came too quick, too clean. Like she’d said it before. Like she’d survived by keeping words short and her story shorter.

Kael moved closer until he was towering over her. "Passersby don’t usually steal."

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The height difference did the work for him, and he made sure to use it, stepping in until she had to tilt her chin up just to meet his eyes.

The dagger dipped for a heartbeat under the pressure of proximity, then snapped back up as she remembered she was supposed to be threatening.

"It’s not stealing! I was going to pay, but no one came..."

Her words sped up with the kind of indignation that usually came right before someone cried or stabbed you.

The knife point wavered, cutting a small arc in the air as if she could carve a path out of this conversation.

"So, you assumed the hung boar was for grabs... quite the story, short thief."

He let the insult sit there and rot on the air between them. It wasn’t even a clever insult. It was just a push, a test to see where her temper lived.

"I’m not a thief! Also, I’m definitely not short."

The flare was immediate. Pride, stupid, stubborn pride, surviving even when everything else looked like it had been beaten out of her.

"You’re like a Midget with heels..." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Kael’s tone was casual in the way only someone confident could afford. He didn’t even sound mad. He sounded bored.

"That’s offensive! And wrong," she said her eyes flaring almost, "I’m five foot eight! You’re the one who’s freakishly tall. Was one of your parents a giant or something!"

Kael almost snorted.

She had bite.

Kael looked her up and down like he was checking a measurement in his head and coming up disappointed.

"Five foot eight, stop pulling my legs, ma’am, anyway, tell me, Kael said, "Lies, and thievery, you look like you’ve been in a rut. Bad luck hunting?" Kael asked then he noticed something.

He hadn’t intended to get close enough to smell her properly.

Now he did.

The river scent, cold stone, wet moss, was underneath it. On top was the stink of sweat and dried gore, old enough in places to have turned sour. But it wasn’t just animal blood. It wasn’t just the boar.

The cuts on her clothes weren’t that of beasts and monsters. And most blood on her had different degrees of darkening. Different sources of blood.

And it stank worse than prey blood... human blood.