"Stop that foolishness," Ludwig's words came before he even turned or saw. He already predicted it, that Tull would once again draw his weapon.
"You're not at her level, none of us is. If she wanted us dead, none of you would know how you met Necros." Ludwig finished his words by sipping again on the tea.
"You really have to give me some of this, this is really good stuff." He added.
Tull's fingers froze near his earring as if the metal had suddenly burned him. The hut remained calm around them, wood that smelled faintly of resin, a quiet warmth in the air, the steady presence of a small room that had no business being safe, yet the four of them carried battle into it like mud on boots.
Ludwig's sip sounded loud in that contained space, a deliberate insult to panic, and the tea's scent, dark, bitter-sweet, something green underneath, rose between them as if it had any right to be part of this moment.
