Aeron glared at Ravion as the man turned away. Gwyllion sniffed beside him, her breath shuddering as she hovered beside him. Aeron had not quite figured out why she was terrified of dogs. It had not helped that she had heard stories of mad dogs and had heard of how wolves ripped people’s throats out. It was not her fault that she was terrified of them. He frowned, and snapped, “Do not tell her to be quiet!”
Ravion stopped, turned on his heel, and said, “What?”
Aeron stepped closer to the ranger and drew himself to his full height, hoping that this quarrelous act did not count as bad behaviour. “It is not her fault that the dog frightens her.”
“Must she scream so loudly?” Ravion asked.
Of all the blasted, unreasonable things to say. Aeron licked his lips, trying to control the hot anger. “She is not a hardened warrior like you,” he said. “You cannot expect her to do that. Besides,” he muttered, “her fear is not a normal fear. It is sheer terror. It is not as if there are orcs after us. There is no need for stealth.”
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