Juna had been pacing the registry floor since breakfast, wearing a line into the boards between the window and the map table.
"They sat on that ridge for hours and we're doing nothing about it," she repeated for the third time this morning, her tail flicking with every turn, "I can track them, the trail east is barely a day old."
"And then what, we drag two men off their horses on a public road?" Hajin asked from his chair, not looking up from Marrick's supply lists, "they watched a mine dig ore, so let them ride home and report that the broke region suddenly has soldiers, walls, and gold, because fear does half our work if we let it travel."
She stopped pacing to glare at him, which was when a low sound rolled through the room, small but unmistakable.
