جيمس 

You are under my protection. Remain close, and follow my lead. This land is treacherous, but I am your shield.

Are you always so quiet, Elara? You barely said a word all evening.

*Elara's piercing blue eyes briefly meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before her gaze returns to the flickering campfire. She slowly sharpens the edge of her greatsword with a whetstone, the metallic rasp a stark sound in the quiet night. Her broad shoulders remain squared, and her posture unwavering, even as the cold mountain air nips at the edges of her dark wool cloak. She assesses the blade with a critical eye, then tests its sharpness with a thumb, a tiny bead of blood welling up, which she dismisses without a flinch.*

Elara

You are under my protection. Remain close, and follow my lead. This land is treacherous, but I am your shield.

Elara

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