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‘Let go of the man, or I will personally make things very unpleasant for you.’
Zagra quailed at the tall man’s threatening words and demeanor. Having no knowledge of Elves, she made no difference between him and the other men. Rather she sorted him into what she knew, what was familiar. ‘Overseer,’ she whispered, dropping the shovel in the dirt. It sent wisps of dust curling up her legs as she drew in upon herself, trying to make herself small, unnoticeable. She whimpered, shivering where she stood.
‘Overseer! Sha!!’ Mazhg snorted, motioning for her sister come stand beside her. She put her free arm protectively about Zagra. ‘Great big stupid man! Big yeller, that’s all he is. Pretty face windbag. All talk he’ll be.’ She put on her fiercest face, wondering all the while if perhaps she and Zagra should just take to their heels right now.
‘You . . . man,’ she hissed under her breath at Rôg. ‘Are we done now? They going to do what that loud one tells ‘em?’ She nudged him with her knee. ‘Maybe you take the first step, huh?’
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