Despite the sickening pain radiating from his nether regions, the gnoll stared down his tiny superior. It seemed for a moment that she would stay true to her word and not back down, but eventually Vexa harrumphed once more and spun on her heels to the general direction of the caravan. She swung her staff in front of her, smacking innocent bystanders and muttering curses the entire way back.
She hadn't always been like this. Oh the snark and the haughtiness had always been there, to be sure, but Yul could remember a time when Vexa had been humbled to the point of gentleness. The very first time they'd met she'd been quick to shy away from confrontations, preferring the more traditional kobold tactics of sneaking and back-stabbery.
It was a long time ago, before he was a trader. Before he was a free gnoll. Before he'd ever considered that his life could be more than just what the slavers told him it would be.
That was a dark time, and his body was still littered with scars, despite the costly tonics and creams he'd bought to diminish them. Though having many scars was often the sign of a powerful warrior, and certainly not anything to be ashamed of in normal gnoll culture, the marks on Yul served only to remind him of those bleak days.
Shielding his eyes from the sun, the tall male made his way back towards the caravan. Now was not the time to be reminiscing about the past. Not when they could be arrested and hauled away any minute...
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