Sael and Northern were not alone for long.
Annette came walking in from the eastern flank, her hair singed at the ends and soot smeared across her face. She looked like she had been standing inside a furnace, which, knowing how she fought, she probably had. Despite her appearance, she walked with the confident stride of someone who had thoroughly enjoyed herself.
Behind her, Vida moved with the silent economy of motion that was simply how she existed. Not a hair out of place. Not a speck of blood on her skin, though her knuckles were swollen and cracked from hitting things that shouldn't have been hit that many times.
"If I never fight another corpse," Annette announced to no one in particular, "it'll be too soon. They don't even have the decency to stay down."
"They're dead," Vida said flatly. "Decency isn't their strong suit."
Annette barked a laugh. "Was that a joke? Vida, did you just make a joke?"
Vida's expression did not change. "No."
