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Tarkyn put his hands on his hips and stared for long minutes at the empty space in front of him. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face, pushed back his hair and turned around. “So now what?”
“Now we have lunch,” replied Waterstone prosaically, “and accept the hospitality of the Lost Forest and its guardians.”
Tarkyn gave a wry smile, “I didn’t even have time to find out who Moridan Tamadil was.” He walked back over to Running Feet and with Harkell’s assistance, helped the injured woodman to his feet.
“Perhaps you can ask the king when you meet him,” suggested Harkell casually.
The prince glanced sharply at him from the other side of Running Feet before relaxing into a smile, “Perhaps I can.”
“Just a moment,” interrupted Autumn Leaves. “Did I miss something?”
Ancient Oak grinne
