The stranger has no visible weapons on him, and doesn’t seem threatening, but Solma doesn’t trust him. She stands between the children she’s responsible for and the man who approaches them, rifle in her hands and a deep scowl aimed at him.
“Can we help you?” she asks, in a voice she hopes suggests that they have no intention of helping.
Warren and the youngsters huddle behind the bramble bushes and now only the older Whisperers, Olive, Bell and Roseann remain in sight. The stranger holds up a hand. He stops a few meters away and lays his staff down. It’s a gesture of peace, Solma knows, but she’s not buying it yet. She watches as he steps over the abandoned staff and comes towards them. He smiles and the way his face creases suggests he does this often, but the smile doesn’t quite reach
