[He’s no stranger to death. To violence. He’s sunk his blades into the flesh of those he once called brothers, and Shay would do it again if he had to. To save the world from their own folly.

But he didn’t enjoy watching the light drain from their eyes. Just as he doesn’t like hearing about wayward hunters dying at the hands of monsters the same way one speaks about the weather.

Not his business. Hers, and those that would work with her. Still, none will stop his own disapproval. The grin he gives her is thin.]

Might run across you in less friendlier terms one day, in that case. I’ll keep that trick weapon of yours in mind.