A brief respite allowed na’Pungu to go through his routine of cleaning his weapon and armor links of blood. This was critical in preventing rust. The post-battle fatigue was a familiar comfort. It reminded him that he was still alive.
A small nick in the rapier needed some attention, so he pulled out a small metal file and lovingly caressed the blade with the file’s tiny parallel teeth. As he worked the blade he watched Ander. The small man was useful, no doubt, with his fascinating ability to meld music with magic. But he also looked at Valshea in a way that na’Pungu didn’t like.
The last lech who tried to stick her without her permission ended up getting stuck with a shiv. na’Pungu hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He liked Ander.