Tamara disguised herself as a man, putting padding in her tunic’s shoulders and pulling her hood over her head and her scarf over her face. At the trading post, Llewellyn went to speak to her clan’s representatives while Tamara remained hidden in the forest. The two d’ark t’uath, armed to the teeth, motioned for him to lay his arms down and approach. He did, and they relaxed slightly. “I am Llewellyn, I come in peace,” he said. “I am Fia, and this is Rhyanna.” The tallest d’ark t’uath, the one called Fia, approached him and looked him over. “You have nothing to trade. Why have you come here?” “I come to give you news of Tamara.” Fia uttered a small gasp. “Tamara? She disappeared nearly a fortnight ago. Have you found her? Is she wounded?” “No. She is safe. She has chosen to leave the tribe. Her message is this. ‘I, Tamara, was caught and mauled by a behemoth while on guard duty. I lost my glosseer at the foot of the tree. The behemoth took me to his cave and would have killed me, but a wood elf rescued me.
