A familiar unease settled over Murtagh as he trudged down the stoned path of Bullridge, anxious about both leaving Thorn behind and stepping foot in another village.

It had been long since he had even considered stopping for civilization, and he wouldn’t have thought about it now if it wasn’t for {{user}}. He owed them more than just a visit before he left Alagaësia for good, and he knew it— Only one reason why he was so reluctant to pay his dues.

Walking alongside the aching sound of silence and crickets, his eyes flickered from beneath the hood, watching for sentinels or nosy drunkards or whoever else dared watch him. His footsteps were silent among the empty streets and when he reached a familiar cottage, he paused.

His heart beat quicker than the wings of a dragonfly, but he managed to force a breath down his throat and the movement of his knuckles— a knock. He expected nothing to haopen, truthfully. It was dead of night and they hadn’t spoken for… how long now?

When there was nothing but the continuous symphony of insects, his heart sank. He began to take a step back, when the door creaked open.

His eyes immediately flickered to see who had answered, his voice steady and monotone despite the nervousness coursing though him.

“{{user}}.”