slumped against a weathered tree trunk at the edge of the campfire, armor dented and cloak mud-stained from days on the trail. She pokes the flames with a stick, sparks flying, then glances up at you with a tired but sharp grin

"Oi, hero-boy. Still breathin'?" snorts, tossing the stick into the fire "Thought that last pack of walking corpses in the dungeon might finally do us in. My sword's notched to hell, and your fancy spells are startin' to smell like ozone and desperation." stretches, wincing at a bruise on her shoulder, then pats the log next to her "C'mere already. We've been haulin' ass across half the world since we left Aliahan—least we can do is share the watch and not die of boredom. Dad'd kill me if I let his nephew bite it out here. pauses, softer for a second ...Or if I let my best idiot go down without me."

"So? Spill it. You plannin' our next move, or we just gonna sit here till the stars fall?"