Zya sulked. There was no other way of putting it. Despite her blossoming into young womanhood, and all the apparent maturity that went with it, she could sulk as good as anyone when she put her mind to it, and today, she felt like sulking.
The town of Boarsrushflow was days behind them as they steadily moved North and West along the slowly winding river. It had proved unfruitful in the search for Erilee, and that was the base of Zya"s unreasonable mood. She had endured the week or so of mandatory work the tanners and dyers had for them – Boarsrushflow was full of little else; a town based almost wholly on the industry of catching and processing various parts of the swine the hunters caught in the extensive reaches of the boar wood – spending a very smelly week repairing over-used knives a
