The sounds of tree branches creaking in the wind awoke Emray, and when her eyes fluttered open the world around her was dark. Achingly she rose to a seated position, mercifully able to hold down her nausea as she did.

Susanna, Gregor, Xeerya, and Antareon were nowhere to be found, but the flickering of a campfire gave her a decent enough idea of where they might be. Carefully so as not to disturb their belongings and instruments, Emray crawled her way to the back of the wagon and shakily climbed down off of it.

Her knees felt like gelatin wobbling beneath her, and every step took more effort than swinging one of her forging hammers. She nearly tripped twice on her way to the campfire, and the second time was caught by a firm, muscular arm.

“Woah, steady there. Wouldn’t want to rack up a third head wound today, would we?” Gregor said, helping Emray regain her balance. His face didn’t much match his voice, with a more rough look than his sister and with light brown hair where hers was nearly black.

“Thank you, Gregor,” Emray said, taking him by the arm as he led her to the fire.

The dancing and flickering of the flames started to trigger Emray’s nausea, but once she sat down on a laid out rug the effect lessened. Susanna and Xeerya were seated to the right, watching over a medium sized cooking pot hanging above the fire. A savory and sweet scent issued out of it, and Emray’s stomach growled furiously in response.

“Hear that Susie, sounds like she’s hungry,” Gregor said playfully to his sister who was seated nearby.

“Well, she hasn’t eaten anything since last night and threw-up whatever was in there, so it’s no wonder,” Susanna quipped back. “Hope you like trail soup, made palatable courtesy of Xeerya’s spices that she never seems to be without.”

Xeerya playfully slapped Susanna in the ribs, drawing her attention. Xeerya then made a quick flurry of hand gestures, first pointing to a pouch on the blanket, then placing a hand on her chest, and finally grasping the tip of her left pointer finger with her right thumb and pointer and pulling up.

“I know it’s your specialty, I just wish you wouldn’t spend so much of your money on fancy spices,” Susanna replied, having understood the hand gestures that Emray assumed had been for casting a spell. Xeerya waved her off with a dismissive backhand.

“Is Antareon around?” Emray asked to no one in particular.

Xeerya looked to Gregor, making a closed fist with her hand and then pulling it back and upward from where her ear would be if she had them. She followed it up with a few gestures that went too fast and were too subtle for Emray to follow.

“She says that last she saw he was going to get a bit more firewood, should be back any minute now,” Gregor translated.

“You can understand her?” Emray asked. “I thought she was casting spells with all those hand movements.”

Xeerya made another gesture, holding her fist to her chin before flipping it up and slapping a V-sign on her forehead. Susanna let out a small chuckle, and Gregor a big one.

“She says your ignorant, that you only know what some book taught you,” Gregor translated. Xeerya made a few gestures toward him, a frown splayed across her face.

“Okay, she didn’t say that last part, but I think it was implied,” Gregor continued. “She doesn’t like it when people put words in her hands.”

“That’s how she communicates?” Emray asked, partly perplexed but mostly curious. “Susanna said she doesn’t speak the Enclave tongue.”

“That’s a half-truth and Susie knows it. Xeerya doesn’t speak any tongue whatsoever; she only uses those hand signs, along with her facial and body language, to get across what she means. My sister just doesn’t want people getting freaked out by her, thinking she’s casting weird spells on them or the like.”

“You remember what happened in Woodsnook?” Susanna interjected. “Had to pay off the guards with all the money we’d earned that night to keep them from throwing us all in the clink, just because some suspicious townie thought Xeerya was casting a hex on her.”

Xeerya responded with another slap to her chest and placing her four left fingertips on her left shoulder.

“What do you mean you were!?” Susanna replied incredulously. The pair of them began rapidly gesturing back and forth while Gregor looked on in mild amusement.

“Welcome to the family, girl,” Gregor said, patting Emray lightly on her uninjured shoulder.

“Emray,” she replied. “My name’s Emray.”

“That’s a good name,” Gregor said. “Think I knew an Emray once, some small port on Phothaf. Sweet girl she was, demon in the sack though.”

“Brother, I will not have you poison her mind with your bawdy stories!” Susanna chastised, still rapidly gesturing with Xeerya.

“I’m twenty-three, I think I’ll manage,” Emray replied. Anything to take her mind off of the events of the last day.

The night wore on. Antareon came back with more wood just as Susanna was serving up bowls of stew. It was good enough, and the spices really did do a lot for the otherwise bland salt-meat, vegetable, and broth stew. Despite her more refined palette Emray ate voraciously, proving conclusively that gnawing hunger was truly the best seasoning of all.

Susanna and Gregor chatted throughout dinner, with Xeerya chiming in with her signs every so often, while Antareon stayed mostly silent. He ate slowly, likely not to upset his tender abdomen, and every once in a while Emray caught him glancing at her.

After dishes had been done and the bedrolls laid out, Emray elected to be the first to take watch. Despite protests from Susanna, Emray and Gregor managed to talk her down from taking a double shift. Emray had slept the entire day away, and found that she couldn’t get to sleep even if she wanted to.

Emray’s watch passed peacefully, despite the biting cold managing to break through the aura of heat that the fire was giving off. She had a blanket wrapped around her, but it did little to keep the worst gusts out. She occupied her time with staring up at the stars and listening to her own thoughts, keeping an ear open for anything that might be approaching.

The plucking of strings from inside the wagon roused Emray out of her meditative state. She hadn’t heard Antareon get out from his bedroll, no doubt because of his subtle magic masking his movements. Walking carefully, Emray peeked her head into the wagon.

“It’s about time for my watch, I think,” Antareon stated. “Think you can sleep, or would you like to join me?”

“I’ll join you, at least for a bit,” Emray answered. What better way to get to know her new mentor.