That last one came from two people simultaneously, from different parts of the camp, and both of them stopped talking when they realized what they had said.
In the largest tent, Vess sat across from him.
The tent was not large. It was a standard field command tent — a table, two folding stools, a map frame that had nothing in it. She sat on one stool with her sword across her knees, old habit, and she watched him sit on the other stool with the relaxed, owning posture of someone who felt at home in every space they entered.
"Who are you," she said. Third time.
"Someone passing through," he said.
"Passing through a C-rank dungeon."
"Passing through the guild town. The dungeon was on the way."
She looked at his face.
She looked at her sword.
She looked at his face again.
