“Dwarf, you...”
“Hadjar, my friend,” the dwarf continued, ignoring the desert dweller. “We’ve brought a very interesting… person for you to talk to. Don’t kill him right away, alright?”
Hadjar stared at the dwarf. Arteus and Lathea, who’d been walking behind him, stepped aside, and by the Light of the Evening Stars, it took a great deal of effort for the General to resist the urge to grab his sword. There was a familiar face behind them. He’d been part of Narnir’s pack when the wolves had taken Lathea.
“You...”
“Hello, Master Wind of the Northern Valleys,” the shapeshifter bowed. “I have come with an offer.”
“An offer?” his voice rumbled, turning into a storm. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t send you back to your ancestors right now, wolf.”
“Your anger is just, warrior,” re
