Chapter Seventy Eight
“This should do.” Roselidah flicked her gaze to the flimsy raft before them. They were pieces of badly severed wood obtained from lowly handing branches. The jagged ends were held together by shrivelled blades of grass. They would drown the moment they got in the water. “What?” “What?” “Why are you looking at my raft with such distaste?” “This? This is not distaste! This is how I normally look when I am feeling appreciative…” “So cringing your face and flicking your nostrils are a sign of appreciation?” “Mmmmmh…” “Do you think you can do a better job than me?” Roselidah, tired of Luke’s offended demeanor, sighed and rolled her eyes before tossing the vessel-draped swords to Luke and retreating to the woods. Luke, mouth slightly open and face flushed crimson, stared after Roselida
- Writer
