Elise waited beneath the market arch while Sable checked the bow beside her kit and the blades on her belt. A pastry bag sat on top of their provisions as Hajin crossed from the guild doors toward the shaded colonnade.
Toby tossed him the spare pack, and his restored right hand snatched it clean out of the air.
"You can use it," Elise blurted, jabbing a finger at him, "your arm, I mean, not the bag, obviously you could always use a bag, that came out completely wrong."
"Excellent clarification," Sable drawled, steadying the pastry bag before its folded top could spill.
"I was starting to worry the guild ranked him for carrying one."
"I remember your prognosis, by the way," Hajin cackled, rolling the restored shoulder under the pack so Jonas wouldn't try to haul it with his bad arm, "six months, wasn't it, six whole damn months, so I decided to be rude about the timetable."
Elise pressed her palm over the rapier hilt, mouth working, and Sable slid smoothly into the gap.
