Local Orre Enthusiast
Wes eyed the bossy snake gal, not sure what to make of her flat tone. Probably just tired, so he couldn’t judge her too harshly; he wasn’t exactly feeling particularly chipper himself."How long were you here after the charmeleon attack?"
“Not long. Just for the night, really,” he said, voice ragged from exhaustion. “But last time we hadn’t had our sleeping quarters invaded. Somehow, that thing knew where we were. Didn’t you say it was the same one you’d encountered in Blaguarro?” He looked to Odette. “How did it make its way all the way over here and then know where to find us? Unless someone sent it to us?”
He let those words hover for a moment before continuing. “Maybe the Saloon will be safer—it’s worth a shot. But if there’s someone behind these attacks, someone sending the Shadows after us…then I don’t know if anywhere will be safe for very long.”
He shifted, suddenly wondering if he was just being paranoid. He certainly was doing a poor job of lightening the mood, but that had never been his specialty anyway. It pays to be paranoid when you don’t know what—or who—you’re dealing with, he told himself firmly.