"This does not bode well." I said.
"What?" demanded Pale Ram, "What doesn't bode well?"
I sent a group invite, shared my Beast Sense.
"So there's only one." she said.
"Is only one." snickered a kobold.
"Health is orange." whispered another.
<You ignore the children.> Pale Ram sent. <They won't actually attack.>
<While I've never made a formal study, Kobolds don't tend to honor treaties if they sense a power shift.>
<Dick. This isn't a power shift, it's one of their cubs.>
<Do you let your children wander far from the tribe?>
She shrugged. <If I had any. Let them go where they want; if they get killed they weren't clever enough to survive, anyway.>
<Bears are not like goblins...>
But then I was interrupted.
<We have enough food.> the cub sent. <There is no passage through our lands at this time. Go around, not through.>
Male.
"You may need to tell your troops not to attack." I said.
Again, I trimmed content. About four hundred words on psychology of Gray Ursas, whom we might not see again, versus kobolds, whom we definitely will.
Show. Show, not tell.
And, I'm pretty sure I've got work back in its place, other than the weekends. Wouldn't be the first or last time I'll be wrong in this life.
As always, thank you for continuing to read. It is my honor to now see if I can get back to writing most days, which I think I've been promising for two or so months now.