-“God of Creation, to you we give thanks before giving our bodies the nourishment they require for the day. We humbly ask you may give to those who are not as fortunate as we. I personally ask, as a father, your protection over us as we continue our journey. I know we cannot receive only blessings in this world, that eventually we will die one day or another; nonetheless, may you keep us from evil eyes. To you be the glory.”

-“To you be the glory,” repeated Mayen.

Friday morning was chilly, not to the point of penetrating your bones, but enough to make it uncomfortable. Drops of water crashing on the leaves of trees made a background noise which would have been quite pleasant indoors, not here in the open. Though the tent had kept the two wayside peasants mostly dry, it was still unpleasant this early in the morning.

Mulette had slept with the two humans in their tent; Nerlos had warned them about her dislike of being wet at night and that she could be quite finicky about it. They had forgotten so she had reminded them by forcing herself in. The surprise had been more one of confusion than annoyance. She had managed to get in without making it fall down, although Rowen’s intervention had had much to do with it, and she had casually laid down comfortably in between the two humans as if nothing had happened. According to Mulette, it was them, not her, who had been finicky: they had been the one to get all agitated.