"So, what are you staying for?"
Dresden gave her a slow, cat-like blink. An obvious attempt at pretending he couldn't communicate, of course. Sure, he was mute, but Vica had learned in the handful of days that they had spent together that he was more than capable of conveying what he thought necessary. Hell, he could probably read and write, and even if her literacy wasn't much to be impressed by, she was confident she could struggle through whatever words he scratched in the dirt. But he wouldn't, because he was full of secrets and attitude and little else.
"You look better," she said after a moment, deciding to give up for the moment. She returned to crushing the herb paste in her mortar and pestle, as did Dresden from his seat across the piles of green stalks and various blossoms he h
