Thorne and Selene tensed like coiled springs. Eccar who still crouched between the thick roots, remained calm, his eyes quietly watching the swaying brush. He knew and felt that whoever was coming wasn't nearly strong enough to trouble him.
"Be ready," Thorne commanded in a low, clipped tone, his voice cutting through the thickening tension.
His sword gleamed as he drew it in one swift, controlled movement, the edge catching the faint light filtering through the leaves.
Selene stepped out, spreading her hands. Tendrils of crackling orange lightning danced between her gloved fingers, leaping from rune to rune across her gloves. Her face was fierce, not afraid. Her eyes sharp and her jaw set.
Eccar realized again that she wasn't just some support Mage. She was a warrior in her own right.
