Pren nodded as he ran a hand through her hair briefly before the voice was heard, pulling the kitten back towards himself and putting him in his furs, letting his head pop out.
Gwennol looked up, standing and going to fetch her bag, "What is wrong with him?" She asked the young man, a boy really, who came to deliver the message. He shrugged, looking away from Pren, a hint of fear in his eyes, "I don't know, he has fever and won't wake."
Gwennol's face grew serious and she turned to Pren, "I must go help."
Pren pushed himself up right, looking to the boy before he pulled on his gloves and belt. "I am going too."
Gwennol shouldered her bag, "You don't have to, if he is ill the air might be bad and you might get sick as well."
The boy could not look at Pren, he fidgeted nervously, "The man was vomiting earlier, before he fell asleep." She moved towards the door, the boy scrambling to pull the curtain back to lead her to the sick man's hut.
"I am coming, too," Pren sent a glare to the boy.
Gwennol stepped outside and spotted Bresin heading towards them. She saw they were leaving and she ran forward, "Pren, you are wanted in Glynn Brenin's hut. He wishes to discuss the war privately before dinner."
Pren groaned with a grunt, "Not now. Tell him I will talk to him about the war after dinner."
Bresin put her hand on his chest, feeling the hard muscle and she shook her head, "You would insult your host? Let the Derudh do her job."
Gwennol turned to Pren, "The Brenin promised hospitality, he would not go back on it, it is tradition. It would insult the spirits."
Bresin raised her eyebrow, her full lips smirking, "See?"
Pren looked between Gwennol and Bresin before he grunted, "Fine. Shout if you need me. I won't be long."
Gwennol moved quickly to follow the boy to a hut on the outer edges of Lhanuch. Bresin beckoned Pren with a curl of her finger towards the Brenin's hut.
Pren moved towards the Brenin's hut without paying any attention to Bresin on the way there.
Bresin huffed a breath, pouting slightly, "You know, you are the only man who acts as if he wishes not to have me."
Pren looked at her, saying simply, 'Because I do not wish to have you."
She rolled her eyes, "Why is that? I would breed good sons for you, strong and large sons...I've got the hips for it and I can fight. What will you breed with that skinny girl?"
She scoffed and approached the hide door of the Brenin's hut. Bresin turned t o him, smirking, "Pren, don't be so selfish. Our people need warriors."
Pren snorted, glaring down at her, his dark eyes gleaming behind the red war paint, "I have seen dying children put up more of a fight than you can. And she will give me and the rest of our people warriors. Finer warriors than you could give me."
Bresin opened the hide door, ducking in and waited until Pren entered, "Is that so?" She glared at him, "I could fight better than the Derudh, she looks as if a strong wind would break her."
She sneered and then suddenly pushed up against Pren, her hand reaching down to grab for his manhood. "Then breed the both of us."
"A derudh can speak to the spirits. Spirits are stronger than even me," Pren grunted as she grabbed him before he slammed a fist into her stomach, not caring to be careful. "Touch me again and you will lose the hand."
Bresin sputtered and coughed, groaning as she clutched her stomach, "You...bastard..." She gasped and tried to stand up straight, "You're probably impotent anyway, that Derudh is just doesn't know any better."
She spat at his feet and a voice from the dark interior called, "Bresin, leave him be. You are not wanted, go now."
The dark haired woman tossed her head, her pretty face twisting with hate. "Then I leave this useless man with you, Brenin." She glared at Pren, her sneer exposing her sharp teeth. She bolted out of the curtained door, leaving them alone.
Pren snarled at Bresin before he looked to the Brenin, "What is it you wanted me for again?"
Glynn Brenin stood up, his brow furrowed, "It is you that wished to speak with me. Bresin said it could not wait."
Pren frowned, his eyes narrowing in realization before he turned, "I am going to kill that woman. Excuse me, Brenin. I have to deal with something.." He then headed out the hide door, making for the hut with a jog.
The Brenin watched him and picked up his axe, sliding it into his belt and headed towards the door after the warrior. He looked sharply at one of his men, "What did Bresin tell you?"
Inside the hut, Gwennol knelt beside the man who looked as if he was sleeping. His family consisted of a brother, the man she recognized with the large angry scar along his face. He stood nearby the door and watched her work. She frowned, "He doesn't seem to have fever, was he given something?"
She turned her head to look at the scarred man when she felt a hand close around her throat, cutting off her air. She gasped, unable to pull air into her lungs as the 'sick' man sat up, clutching her slender throat as her face turned red. "Shhh..Derudh, say hello to the Huntsman, the liar who kills his own people."
The scarred man smirked, watching her struggle and claw at the sick man's grasp. He tapped his axe against his hand, "That bastard will know our pain when he finds his woman dead. Then I'll have his head."
