[Firefoot]

Rowenna had chosen not to rise to his prompting and Scyld let the matter drop, though questions still niggled at his mind. He wasn’t even sure why it mattered so much to him to know her secrets, aside from the fact that he was interested in everyone’s secrets. It made for good leverage, though leverage against what, he wasn’t terribly sure anymore. This was different though.

It wasn’t as if he couldn’t make a fair guess at what her life might have been like. Abuse of the weak by the strong: that was how the world worked, unless you happened to be one of the lucky few born into a life of privilege. He scrambled up over a particularly steep and rocky section, then turned to make sure Rowenna was alright following him. For a moment he imagined Linduial there, looking up at him with her large and trusting eyes. Just as he once had for Linduial in this very spot, he extended his hand to Rowenna, an offer of stability over the rough terrain.

"We're getting close," he said.