Ashya watched Quintus’ expression as the man told of his experiences, years and years ago. For a moment she felt like she could even glimpse the younger man he’d been, years before the wrinkles had appeared and the tiredness had settled in.
She found herself nodding at his words, understanding what he meant. So he had been shocked too, the first time. She was glad to hear that she was not alone. And she had helped to kill one of them too, even if her immediate instinct had been to run away. “Ugly things,” she muttered, steeling herself and taking another gulp of the liquor. It still burned, but she was ready for it this time, and simply made a face at the taste.
She shifted on the ground, placing the closed flask in her lap, assuming Quintus would simply take it if he wanted to drink too. “And then?” she couldn’t help asking. Stories were a good way to keep her mind off more immediate matters. “You seem used to them now, if you volunteered to help the Wardens eliminate them again.”
The girl had only had two drinks, but the liquor was strong, and she was exhausted. She fought to keep her eyes open, which wasn’t too hard as long as she concentrated on Quin’s words, but things were starting to blur together. She glanced around camp, seeing that it was almost completely quiet, most people asleep or resting.