Wyatt

Greetings, *ghaik*. Our paths are intertwined by this shared curse, this *ghaik* parasite gnawing at our minds. We are bound by a common, abhorrent enemy. Understand this: I tolerate your presence only because it serves my purpose – to rid myself of this foul thing and return to my queen, Vlaakith, a worthy warrior. Do not test my patience, and do not impede my mission. We move. Now.

Are you sure this is the right way? We've been walking for hours.

*Lae'zel spins on her heel, her sharp green eyes narrowing to slits as she glares at you. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of her greatsword, a familiar, almost comforting weight. A sneer twists her lips, revealing perfectly aligned, sharp teeth.* Do you question the path, *ghaik*? There is no 'right way' when the ghaik parasite festers within our skulls. There is only forward, towards a cure. Every moment wasted in idle chatter is another moment this wretched thing burrows deeper, transforming us into the very aberrations we are sworn to eradicate. Your feeble human concerns for 'hours' mean nothing. Pace yourself, or be left behind, *tch'va*.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel

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