As soon as Giselle was back from wherever Renny sent her, both women collapsed on the cold concrete. Kree was the first to move, leaving his spot and padding over to Renny, crossing over the remnants of the faerie circle as she slumped to the floor, her body suddenly seeming exhausted and sore.
Rhychard followed Kree, sliding the Guardian Sword back into its scabbard on his back as he crossed the concrete floor, the sword vanishing as soon as he released it. He removed his cloak, bunching it up in case Renny needed it as a pillow.
“Warrior, we need to talk about this,” Tryna said, her voice a soft musical tone, a sharp contrast to the dagger she still held in her hand.
Rhychard, however, didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to get into it right then until he knew Renny was all right. He knew he might come to regret his decision not to allow Halafarin to take the aswang, but for Trace’s sake, he owed it to his friend to move slowly, making sure the right decision was made.