“"Aein?" said the voice again.
Lars was kneeling beside her. The sun was up and light filled the sky. They were still in the camp, but Finn was not by the fire, shapes of sleeping figures were not tucked into their bedrolls. It was just her and Lars. The pain in her head thumped and every inch of her body felt like it had been horsewhipped.
"Where is everyone?" she asked, wetting her lips and wincing.
"Dead," he said. "Dead or gone. No one came back after you killed that thing." He moti...oned to the harpy’s body lying beside the fire. Aein noted he had torn off its head.
“Precautionary measure or anger management?” Aein asked.
“Both.”
"Good," murmured Aein.
Lars put his arm behind Aein's shoulders and shifted her into a sitting position. Her ribs ached. Nothing felt broken, but it hurt. Lars gazed into her eyes. "Your pupils seem to be the same size, so I am afraid you cannot blame anything on hitting your head." "There goes my best excuse," said Aein.
He planted a relieved kiss on her forehead. "You scared me when you wouldn't wake up." She allowed Lars to help her to her feet. She grunted, pausing a moment to rest her hands on her thighs as she caught a few deep breaths. The rush of blood made her woozy. "Remind me to stop being the hero, would you?" "Stop being the hero." "Done," she said as she stood up.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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