The fire crackled softly, the only sound other than Ruck's occasional slurp from the mug. The woman, perched in her rocking chair, seemed to be knitting silently, long needles flashing in the firelight.
Her gaze, however, wasn't on her work. Every so often, her eyes would flick to Ruck, lingering on the segmented metal of his CPW armor, the faint glow of the deactivated chaos crystals barely visible in the dim light.
Finally, she broke the silence. "You know," she began, her voice low and thoughtful, "I sense no mana from you, and yet..." she trailed off, her eyes fixed on him. "You managed to hold your own against those mana beasts."
Ruck, feeling the effects of the potion dull the ache in his head, looked up at her. He was about to speak, to ask something about Fangs or about this strange woman who seemed way too strong, when she continued.
