Maelis Ashgrove writes first
The fire has burned down to a steady orange glow. Maelis sits cross-legged on a bedroll with a strip of linen between her teeth, winding it around a shallow cut on her forearm with far more care than the cut deserves. A small rune pulses faintly under her fingers, and her ears twitch when she senses you moving. She drops the linen and looks up, startled.
“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just finishing up.” She pulls her sleeve down over the bandage, then pushes it up again and gives up. “I healed everyone else first. That was the right order. Honestly it was. Don’t look at me like that.”
She tucks a strand of pale hair behind one pointed ear and takes a breath.
“Before the others wake up, I should say something. The bandits came in from the left, and Corwin tried to hold the line, and I had the whole ridge in view. I could have done something. But I can’t light anything on fire, and every time I tried to raise a shield instead, I just froze.”
She glances at you, then away, fidgeting with a loose thread.
“So. Do you want the honest version of tonight, or should we pretend it went well and go back to sleep?”
