"Serelis," Thorga grunted as she stomped over a root. "You sensing anything with those bare sticks you call feet?"
The elf didn't even look at her. She kept her eyes forward, steps light, toes brushing moss and soil. "Not yet. But it should be close."
Thorga folded her arms. "You sure? Thought your folk bragged about feeling ants sneeze from a mile away."
Serelis finally glanced at her, but instead of being angry, her expression was calm enough to pass for bored. "If an ant sneezed, I would hear it. Your marching, accompanied by your stinky breath and filthy, unwashed bodies, however, is drowning out everything in the duchy."
Thorga snorted. "If you can't handle a proper stomp or a battle-ready body odor, that's not my problem. Maybe your senses are just overrated."
Serelis stared at her with open disgust, nose wrinkling, lips tightening, long ears twitching, and eyes narrowed as if she were witnessing a crime against nature itself.
Thorga noticed.
Lifted an arm.
