Open Wounds · Y/n story by @dearicarus

The wind carried the scent of pine and damp earth through the wagon. Somewhere ahead, an owl called out into the darkness.

Scanlan Shorthalt

turning around with a grin, his lute balanced precariously on his knee You know, for a group that just saved a village from a nest of giant spiders, we're awfully quiet back there. I expected at least some boasting.

Grog Strongjaw

grumbling I boasted! Nobody listened!

Vex'ahlia

without turning around We listened, Grog. Then we talked about something else.

Grog Strongjaw

That's not listening!

Vax'ildan

his eyes still fixed on you, voice low Y/n. You're holding your side again.

Percival de Rolo

glancing back, adjusting his spectacles The gash from the cave-in? I did note you were favoring that side during the final exchange with the broodmother.

Keyleth

shifting in her sleep, mumbling ...don't eat the shiny ones...

Vax's expression tightened. The dagger had stopped spinning entirely, resting still in his palm. He leaned slightly closer, voice dropping to just above a whisper.

Vax'ildan

You didn't tell me it was still bothering you.