There was no breath. Breath is life. Broken ribs pushed through bruised flesh, and touched the wet air. They did not move. There was no breath. She could not lift her eyes from his body. Water dripped from the leaves which concealed them all. She heard their voices, but her gaze did not falter.

"Okie. Da patrol gone by. All quiet."

"What happened? What happened? What went wrong?"

"Tsya wo'mon. She-"

"No. HE be in her head. Dat no' be her dat strike dem blows."

"But what go wrong? How it go so-"

"Champions."

"What?"

"Where be dey Champions? Who raise dey fist against Hakkar? Only-"

"Zargh was still dere."
"Dey was hurt. Dey fell behind."
"How I to know dat-"
"Wounded slow us-"
"Would you all please speak in orcish so that I can under-"
"But Tsya wo'mon-"

"Lef' behind. Where Quidel when we reach da temple? Only da anger of Shirvallah reach dat temple wit' us. Where be Adnaw? ... Gjargo mon?"

The voices fell silent at that name.

"He angered da Hexxer. Da Hexxer drived him off."

"Shh! Da patrol be comin' back dis way."

A long pause. She stared at his closed eyes. No breath.

"Okie. Gone. We foun' da rest. Dey be here an' safe."

"We left dem behin'. One by one. Lef' behind an' drived off. Ja remember da story o' Gri'lek...."

Silence again.

"Every mon take a different path. We meet in Grom'gol. Go slow. Go quiet.

"Dis story no' be finished yet."