Marcus's grip tightened on his broken spear, which he'd been carrying despite its uselessness. "We don't want trouble. We're just passing through on our way to Whitehaven City."
"Oh, I'm sure you don't want trouble," the leader said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Nobody ever does. But see, here's the thing—my crew and I, we've been tracking that Golden Wyvern for weeks. Been planning to take it down, harvest the valuable bits, maybe capture the cubs if we got lucky."
He spread his hands in a mock-apologetic gesture.
"And then you kids show up, swoop in, and steal our prize right out from under us. That's just… well, that's just rude, isn't it?"
"We didn't steal anything," Ren said, his voice tight with controlled anger. "We tracked the wyvern independently, risked our lives to hunt it, and earned everything we took. You have no claim here."
