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@emily-waldorf

YESSSS I LOVE IT SO MUCH I CAN’T EVEN RIGHT NOW!!!!!! And don’t worry – if anyone is overposting, it’s me.

Also, would it be cool if maybe Niarok saved Qatar’s life at some point? I literally love Qatar so much and I feel like Niarok and him should have some kind of friendship at some point, but it seems like Niarok has a long way to go to earn his respect…

Niarok

Niarok sighed when no one answered his query. He clearly hadn’t proven himself yet.

Why are people so stupid?

Niarok’s shoulders ached. He may have been the strongest person he had ever met, but even strong people got tired after carrying 120 pounds of dead weight around for a day and a half, and getting attacked by an inanimate building fifteen times in the space of an hour.

Niarok’s torch sputtered and went out, and he lit his second one completely on autopilot. He could feel the crippling weariness come on, the kind that impaired his judgement and made him do stupid things.

No. Not now.

Niarok growled a curse and fought to stay alert. He managed it a few minutes before lapsing back into lethargy. Yila slumped between him and the boy, her head lolling. She desperately needed rest, far more than he did. He needed to change her bandage and give her something to eat.

He also worried that the temperature of the cave would continue to drop. It was pleasantly cool after the lava, but if it continued to chill, they would have problems.

Niarok’s empty stomach roared, and he cursed again. His body was screaming at him to do something, and he knew he couldn’t afford to push himself much farther if he hoped to be sharp again anytime in the near future.

A nearly imperceptible snap sounded behind him, and he heard the scuttle of gravel. Then all of sudden, Yila’s arm was off his shoulder and he was off to the side.

He turned around and beheld the feral mountain lion man with his sister’s arm draped over his shoulders.

Niarok’s senses went into hyperdrive and he glared daggers at the man. Sure, the guy seemed to be the only one, besides the assassin, who even remotely deserved Niarok’s respect, but no one, absolutely no one, grabbed his sister and ran away with her and expected to live their life in comfort ever again.

He poured fury into his gaze, promising a dark future for the man.

“I won’t break her,” feral mountain lion said, and walked away without another word.

Niarok stood in place for a long second, watching him go, and allowed himself to consider the possibility that the man saw the pain Niarok was hiding and decided to step in and help. Judging from his stern expression, Niarok figured he didn’t want to be thanked. Not that Niarok ever would have thanked anyone for taking his sister away, but he was eternally grateful to have the burden off his shoulders.

He adjusted the straps of his backpack, shifted the quivers of arrows to his other arm, and in two brisk paces leveled with the older man.

He waited for the man to look at him, then he stared him down, waiting for the silent communication of respect.

Through his gaze, Niarok stated he was grateful for the help, he respected the other man’s decision, and he would personally see to his death if he ever dared hurt his sister.

The other man nodded, his face never breaking its stone expression, and Niarok nodded back. In another time and place, Niarok may have even become friends with the man. As it was, it was everything he could do to stay awake, maintain his constitution, and protect his sister all at once. He would stop and sleep soon, with or without the group, and he would take his sister with him.

Though he never looked at the man, and the man never looked at him again, there was an unspoken understanding of this, and the man’s face softened somewhere behind the stone with the tiniest speck of respect.

 

Emily, if you don’t like the end, feel free to change it! 🙂