A corrupt King sits the throne. The last generation of heroes have gone extinct. The lands are as green and as promising as they ever were. The Gods watch with interest and they wait. As next the next uprising comes from the most unlikely of places. A slow burn novel.
"I was already wet before then," Lasha pouted.
"Maybe," Nila admitted, "but you didn't have to go and make it worse. Now you're going to be miserable. You ought to have brought a coat with you as well."
Lasha figidity mutely, her emotionless mask of a face somehow managing to project an image of the utmost sadness. It was almost enough to get Nila to feel sorry for her again. Almost.
The huntress turned away, knowing that if she looked any longer, she would be lured in by the girl's quiet charms. "Once you start moving, you'll be okay," Nila said. "We're going to be moving a good bit from here, once we find the tracks, that'll get you sorted in no time."