“No, no, left foot first, watch me.” Rull demonstrated again, making sure to move slow enough that Vidal could trace the individual steps.

Vidal hopped left foot first this time, but when it came to the twist, he stumbled off-balance and nearly collided with little Pyra midnote. “Sorry!” he blurted, and backed away, one hand clamped over his mouth.

In the other, he held a drinking horn. A large one.

Zofi burst out laughing. He spun to glare at her, and she pointed at his feet. “What happened to the suave dancer I met in the sky gardens, hmm?” she called.

“He drank a lot less—what did you call this again?” Vidal shook the horn. A few drops of Heine’s clear moonshine splashed onto an innocent passerby. “Oh, Sun above, I apologize.”

“He’s never tried moonshine,” Zofi explained to the woman, a local from the town where they were camped.

“Oh, I don’t mind.” The woman scanned him up and down, a small grin touching her lips. “I do not mind one bit.” She sidled closer. “Tell me, handsome, are you spoken for?”

Now it was Zofi’s turn to press a hand over her mouth, to stifle her grin.

Vidal glanced from the woman to Zofi and back again, blinking fast. “Um… I… er… Am I?” he added with a confused glance in Zofi’s direction.

“You tell me,” Zofi replied, eyes bright with amusement.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” the villager said with a quick wink at Zofi.

Zofi practically skipped to Vidal’s side to pluck the drinking horn from his fingers. “Let me guess. You filled it to the brim?” She peered inside and cursed. Only a few drops remained.

“Isn’t that what you do with…” Vidal hiccupped. “With cups?”

“Not these ones.” Zofi laughed. “And certainly not when it’s moonshine filling ’em. Come on. Let’s get you tucked into bed.” Zofi offered an arm.

“It tastes like paint,” he complained as he looped his arm around her neck. “I much prefer strongwine.”

“I’ll bet.” She wrapped her other arm around his waist and began the slow plod toward the campsite, about half a mile through the swamps. She hoped there weren’t any particularly narrow or precarious bridges along the way or Vidal might wind up face-first in that swamp.

“Need a hand?” Rull offered, but Zofi just handed him Vidal’s empty horn.

“We’ll manage. You go have fun.”

They made it a few yards before Vidal stopped to peer over his shoulder. The motion threw them both off-balance, and it took Zofi a minute to right them once more. “Your people are nice,” Vidal said. Or slurred, rather. “I didn’t… expect…”

“Didn’t expect them to welcome a Talon so easily?” She smirked. “Me neither, truth be told. I guess my word carries more weight than I thought.”

“Everybody loves you.” His voice rose louder. “Evvverybody.”