The forest around us was darkening with the arrival of twilight, the dying light casting long shadows over the trees.
I trudged behind Thalindra, muttering under my breath and rubbing soot from my arms. My clothes were still damp from the water she'd conjured to douse the flames, and I was cold, cranky, and increasingly sure that this fox was nothing but trouble.
"Remind me again why we're looking for him instead of letting nature deal with it," I said, trying to step over a particularly large root but catching my toe anyway. I stumbled, catching myself against a tree, and shot Thalindra a glare.
"Because he's my fox," she replied simply, not bothering to slow her stride. Her voice was calm, but the tension in her shoulders gave her away. She was worried. "And because, despite appearances, he is useful."
"Useful for what? Setting houses on fire? Terrorizing me?"