“Nobody’s told you where it is? I thought you fuckers were friends!” Tahl shot back, exasperated. Great. They were totally lost. He looked up at the same stars, wondering how it was even possible they’d been traveling east for so long without so much as a road crossing their path. “It was not my idea, it was a joke. Why can’t you just be a normal person that would choose a warm bedroll over an “adventure” for once in your life.” His voice trailed off to a mumble halfway through, knowing it was pointless to argue with her and that he wasn’t going to leave her out here, anyway. She was right; she’d do the same for him.
But he wouldn’t have gotten himself into this stupid situation in the first place.
And that was the principle problem, here. Tahl had spent his life avoiding notice. Lying low. Concealing what he was and what he could do under a reclusive lifestyle and unkempt hair. Presenting himself as an ally to the Prince was a bad idea, though Bryar was apparently unable to appreciate that part of the equation. What if Tristan found out? What if he wanted to use him? Tahl did not want to be some weapon for others to wield. But frankly, the time for backing out had passed. Their quest was well and truly underway, they were tired and hungry and probably closer to Tristan’s camp than their own. And Bryar was shivering. Don’t think Tahl hadn’t noticed.
“Here,” he muttered, stopping her with a hand on her elbow. He slipped one arm free of the pack and fished around in it for a worn, frayed sweater, which he handed to her a little sheepishly. Tahl knew Bryar wasn’t the type to sniff at a holey garment if it would keep her warm, but she was still a girl and it seemed a little, well, stupid to offer a girl your old clothes. She’d only just taken it from him when the sounds of an approaching animal caught both their attention. Tahl hastily returned his pack to his back, drew his bow and knocked an arrow to it. But it was dark as shit, and by the time he could see the green blur of the dog-thing clearly enough to attempt a shot, it had already slid into him, and shoved its head into Bryar’s hands. Tahl stumbled back and down onto one knee, cursing under his breath. “Good thing I didn’t shoot it, I guess,” he growled, awkwardly fumbling to his feet with both hands otherwise occupied. Her laughter annoyed him, but at least the beast hadn’t mauled her.
Bryar introduced him to the dog; Tahl nodded toward him, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Even if he did resent his services being offered to an animal. He put his bow away, and tentatively offered his hand for Cel to sniff. Tahl had heard Tristan’s familiar described before, but having never seen a Cu-sith, he was unprepared for the actual experience. “He’s definitely big and green,” he agreed, wondering a little. “We must be close, if he was able to find us.”
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