Tove emerged from a secluded little grotto, muttering curses under her breath. “Communicating with spirits is obnoxious. How do you put up with it?”
Rikvi was quiet for a full minute before she answered. “Communicating with me is obnoxious. How do you put up with it?”
Tove put her hands on her hips. “I’m used to it. You learn tricks, after awhile. Otherwise I put up with it because I love you and you terrify me, mostly.” She gestured at the pile of corpses behind the necromancer. “I mean, look at that. What were you doing while I was trying to get a straight answer out of the damn druid?”
“I was keeping you from being bothered.” Rikvi nudged a dead Arrowhead with her toe. “Between these and the mushroom men, I was not idle.”
Tove sighed. “What would I have done without you?”
“Had a very bad time, I imagine.” Rikvi observed the coast was clear, so she took a moment to sit down and clean her greatsword. “But I did not come for that. You would have managed, you usually do. I came because it is currently unsafe for me to continue my research and I do not like being idle.”
“Not safe?”
“It is not a good time to go poking about in the Mists.”
“Ah.” Tove started to ask why, but then realized she wanted to eat before the five hour lecture would be over. Rikvi shot her a knowing look. “Well, did you murder anything good to eat in there?”
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