Page 53 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

Once I’ve cleaned her up as much as possible, I’m finally able to think clearly enough to ask, “Are you alright? How badly did he hurt you?” Almost as an afterthought, I add, “Also, I'm still Aren, I'm merely borrowing Vannaria's face for the moment.”

Letting out another whimper, she lays down, her chin now resting on my knee.

Heating up my palms like I’d done earlier, I stroke the top of her head, careful to keep my touch light. “I’m so sorry. If only I’d been faster, I could’ve stopped him from hitting you.”

Mariane huffs.

Slivo hums, reminding me of their presence. “What was de bastard doin’ anyways?”

“He recognized our horse, Adaman,” I mutter, glancing over at the horses. “Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea to try severing his tendons.”

“So, he was after ye girl den.” They cross their arms. “Figured dat be de case. Ye know, with de murderin’ en all.”

I frown. “Are you cross with me, Slivo?”

The goblin shakes their head, barking out a laugh. “Hells nah. I’s only pissed de damn idiot couldn’t be bothered te wait ‘til et wasn’t broad daylight en right behind my shop.” They glance over at Mariane. “En yous. Yous done real good. Soon as we dispose o’ dis corpse I’s can get ye fixed up good as new. Ye ain’t bleedin’ on de outside, so ye won’t be needin’ a full healin’ tonic. What I gots left inside will be more den enough.”

Mariane lifts her head, thumping her tail against the ground once before standing back up.

I climb to my feet as well, glaring down at the dead bounty hunter as I whisper, “Every life is sacred. Every bond unbreakable. Every slight against either returned. Every soul responsible snuffed out.”

No matter how many times I speak the words, they will never have quite the same impact as they did in our native tongue. Our full Warrior's Oath was reserved for just that, warriors. But, the shortened version is applicable to enemies as well. As both a warning, and an explanation for why their deaths are necessary. It brings me no comfort, but it’s a Noxumbran tradition. One of the few I remember, at least.

I’m fortunate, Rayne and Vannaria don’t remember any at all.

Slivo grunts, drawing me out of my thoughts before I can get lost in them. “Don’ know whys ye wastin’ dem fancy words, but would ye hurrys et up? I’s gots te be gettin’ back te de shop or else Rosaline will come lookin’ fer me.”

Shaking my head, I reach down and grab the man’s ankles for a second time. “Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

With a grunt of effort, I begin dragging him over to the manure pile. Slivo follows, grumbling under their breath the whole way. Doing my best not to get horse shit on our boots, I make sure the corpse is as centered on the pile as possible before stepping out of the goblin’s way.

Brushing past me, Slivo’s annoyed grumbling transitions into the vocal component of a spell as they pull a handful of mushrooms out of the pouch at their waist. With a flick of their wrist, they toss the fungi into the air where they hover for a moment before falling onto the corpse and immediately beginning to multiply. Soon they’ve spread over the entire manure pile and within seconds both the body of the bounty hunter and the horse shit are reduced to nothing but a dark stain on the dirt.

Dusting off their hands, our oldest friend mutters, “Was needin’ te be clearin’ out de shit soon anyways.” And then, without another word, they turn and walk away.

I watch them go, a small smile making its way onto my face. Glancing down at Mariane, I say, “Well, let’s get you fixed up so we can get on the road, yeah?”

She nods, trotting after me as I follow Slivo back into the bakery.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Vannaria

One moment I’m enjoying the blissful nothingness that is our headspace, and the next I’m kneeling on the floor of Slivo’s bakery, Mariane’s furry face inches from my own.

Aren mutters a curse before explaining, *Apologies, Vannaria, it seems recent events became a bit too overwhelming for me. I lost focus and therefore lost control in the process.*

I’m only allowed a brief moment of confusion before a series of memories flash through our mind. A man crouched in front of Adaman. Mariane with her teeth sunk deep into that same man’s flesh. A lifeless corpse laying atop a pile of horse shit.

A much hazier memory of Aren frantically wiping a lot of blood off Mariane’s face.

Blinking rapidly, I mentally reply, *Seems I missed quite a lot. Was anyone injured, besides the now life-less corpse?*

*Mariane was. Slivo’s finishing up a tonic for her now. A small one. She got lucky…* Their words trail off, our connection severed as I focus all of my attention on the, apparently injured, wolf in front of me.

Reaching out to gently cup Mariane’s face with both hands, I ask, “Are you alright? What happened?”

Honestly, I should’ve expected the annoyed huff and deadpan look she gives me, considering she’s currently unable to speak and all. But it doesn’t stop me from scanning my eyes over her, attempting to locate any injuries that might be visible through her thick fur.