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@rusted-knight

 If something happens, a high pitch scream should do.”

I’M LAUGHING SOOO HARD RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yila

Yila hated that man. She hated him.

He was the spitting image of the man who had killed her father.

She hated him.

And now Niarok was actually talking to him.

Like the similarities didn’t matter.

She wanted to strangle something.

Everyone was introducing themselves like this was some kind of house-warming party, and Yila remained silent as Niarok said her name.

Niarok produced a blanket and tossed it to Aydin, saying something that was apparently supposed to be polite while doing so.

Yila huffed.

Niarok elbowed her in the ribs, and she couldn’t contain the smirk that lit on her features. She elbowed him back. Hard. She knew the power of her bony elbows. Her smirk widened.

Until she caught that Aydin’s eye again.

I’m going to hurt something. Like him.

The strange man in the armor was clearly observing the group, and Yila made a mental note to keep an eye on him. He thought she was dangerous? Good. Better to keep it that way. He didn’t think she was dangerous? He’d find out the hard way.

Then he pulled the helmet off.

“My name’s Klein. Its been a long day and tomorrow will be longer.” Pulling the hood of his jumpsuit up, he tightened the pull string. “Wake me when its my turn on watch. If something happens, a high pitch scream should do.”

Then he laid down to sleep.

Yila rolled her eyes epically and curled up next to Niarok, who put his arm around her in that comforting brotherly gesture.

High-pitched scream indeed. Wake me up and that’s what you’ll be making.

She shut her eyes and promptly slid into a doze, the only part of her still cold her feet that didn’t quite fit under Niarok’s bundle of blankets.

Her hand rested on her knife.

And Niarok was talking to the people again.

High-pitched scream. I might make that if Aydin moves again.

Or if Niarok shifts his weight too much.