Trust In Love: A Love Mark Romance
“We don’t want any trouble.”
“Yes,” she agreed heartily. “Nor do we.” Then she bit into the meat I’d just spent the last hour and a half roasting, and she moaned in delight, closing her eyes over the pleasure. “Mmm. Good squirrel.”
“It’s rabbit.”
The woman shrugged and kept chewing. “I’m Mydera,” she announced. “That handsome one over there by the mare is Wicket, the woman’s Spice, and the child’s called Bewler.”
Upon hearing his name, the filthy kid hurried to Mydera, crawling on all fours with every few steps, nearly like a primate. Once he reached her, he made frantic motions with his hands, communicating in the language of the deaf.
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