The copse of trees fell silent after Milo's fierce declaration, save for the crackling of the fire and the distant rush of the stream. It was the kind of silence that came after a storm had passed, when the world itself seemed to be catching its breath and taking stock of what remained in the aftermath.
Sir Bedwyr stood a respectful distance away from the two men, the two brothers, who clung to each other by the fire. His young face wore an expression that was equal parts awe and confusion. The dem-, er, the Eldritch man holding Sir Ollie and sobbing was nothing like the raiders he'd fought outside of Riverstone, and neither was the horned soldier hovering protectively nearby.
