The line for soup was moving briskly, a conveyor belt of commerce and craving. Sol was in his element, a king on a throne of bone and broth. But amidst the sea of eager faces, suddenly his eyes caught someone, not like he could ever forget her.
She was Nia.
The hunter's wife, the first woman he wrec… Ahem! had sex with.
She stood near the back of the queue, half-hidden behind a large warrior. She wasn't holding a scrap of meat or a bone. Her hands were empty, clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles were white. She was trembling… a real fine, continuous vibration that rattled her shell necklaces.
Sol watched her out of the corner of his eye as he served an elder. She looked... wrecked. Her eyes were rimmed with red, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them. She looked like a woman who hadn't slept in two days. She looked like an addict in withdrawal.
