Chapter 19: Next Steps
“Hey,” Byrin says, “I can feel my tongue again.”
Gwynfor stares dead ahead as they head down the road, away from Wister, the edges of the fields whispering in the night breeze. “Fantastic. Any progress on your legs?”
“Mm,” Byrin considers for a moment. “No.”
“Cool,” Gwynfor says, “Then shut up.”
Selmas hikes their bags up higher onto his shoulder. He’s been put in charge of carrying all of the supplies, since Gwynfor is currently carrying Byrin. The paralytics in Hundyr’s needle haven’t worn off yet, so Byrin’s not particularly great at holding on, but Gwynfor’s strong enough to keep him upright. Selmas had tried and they both had ended up sprawled in the dirt.
They had left Hundyr and his group sprawled in various states of distress in the cornfield. Gwynfor had lifted Byrin onto her back maybe a little more easily than expected, Selmas gathered their things from where they had been tossed, and they’d left before Hundyr could get any more good ideas about needles.