whatever comes, let it come
what stays, let it stay
Before Loren could respond to Maea, a call of “Follow me!” came from what sounded like a path on the other side of the hedge. Or maybe the hedge itself. Sighing, he unsheathed his knife. ”Don't worry. I'm certain you'll get your wish. Also, ignore the calls." His eyes scanned the hedges around them, until he finally spotted the furry head of a Speaking Squirrel on top of one.So he summoned a hawk to swoop down towards the rodent. It chittered in outrage, but fled with another cry of "Follow me!" Dismissing his hawk, he picked up the pace, taking a path that led to their left. The hedges were getting closer together, and he glared at them.
When his companion spoke of Amalia, however, the summoner glanced at the pale woman. ”I doubt it. Considering she failed to protect their Temple.” The Launceleyn studied Maea's expression. "Everything alright?"
what goes, let go
LOREN
