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Quin

Now he had made Niarok feel bad, too. From somewhere behind him he heard Sahar bound up and start babbling to Niarok. Something about Acyn and the reason for his sour disposition. Quin found himself listening.

So he has family problems, too.

He turned around slowly. Niarok was talking to a wall and Sahar had retreated to her seat, clutching her leather water jug and looking like she felt bad about something.

Locran and Niarok’s sister were flirting, and Qatar had retreated into the shadows. Quin could just see him, leaning against a wall, completely obscured from most people’s sight.

Acyn was bending down, inspecting a rock with much more interest than curiosity should have provided, and Quin wondered if he’d heard what Sahar had said.

Quin realized how thirsty he was. Sahar had said something about herbs, and he wondered if the water was poisonous. But Qatar had drunk some…

He hobbled over  to the stream and stood there for a minute, staring at it. this was always the hardest part–getting down. He leaned his crutches against the wall and leaned against it with his hands. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to his knee and stooped for a drink. He crawled to his feet again and turned around.

he didn’t want to go talk to Acyn, especially not after his conversation with Niarok, but he couldn’t get the picture that Sahar had painted out of his head, and walked slowly toward him.

“What kind of rock is that?” he asked.