"Huh?" Abrial spluttered immediately, even more lost than before, like a dazed sheep that wasn't sure where it was. "But—she was, you know, solid! I mean, she knocked me out and stuff! She healed me, and made me food every day, and — and sewed me this robe, and stuff!"
Finley pursed her lips again grimly. The air seemed to have cooled slightly with the gradual setting of the sun, sending a small shiver down Abrial's spine. Something about the air felt ominous, suddenly. Colder, like a specter breathing down the back of her neck...
