Traipsing back from the dungeon with his soft companion limp on his back after their failed escapades battered and bruised was bad enough, but worse was the look on Callahan’s face when Denver dragged his sorry ass lamely to their little cluster of tents. It was short lived though when he noticed her own scrapes and tender skin, the two of them ribbing each other until insults turned to laughter, Silky perking up alongside them. Together their voices floated through the air like disjointed music played by happy musicians.

It felt good, better, to be back by Cally’s side again, his sister who he’d already been through so much with. He made a comment or two about combining their forces for the next time, saying something about how Silky even missed her; not so subtly hinting at a longing for her company when in those dark dingy depths.

She agreed easily, they’d always been better together, and the massive bay felt that his wounds were maybe nothing after all.