The Luna's Revenge
The elder with the eel tattoos, Elder Rinan, stood by the pier with his arms crossed like an immovable cliff.
Natalie stepped aside just as Rinan spotted Norwan.
“Well, well,” the elder said, squinting. “I thought I smelled Northan arrogance from downwind.”
Norwan bowed—deeply, properly.
“Elder Rinan,” he said with respect. “It’s an honor.”
Rinan snorted. “Try lifting those crates and maybe I’ll believe that.”
Norwan didn’t hesitate. He moved past Natalie, bending to lift one of the heavier crates by himself. Rinan raised an eyebrow.
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