Ben, no, Tzarek, stretched his arms with a grunt, the creak of muscle and bone louder than it should've been. "Two years, and I still hate how big this body is. Throws off my center of gravity every damn time."
His voice change to his usual tone.
Across the bench, Elvira crossed her legs with a huff, her expression locked in a scowl.
Ben glanced at her and smirked. "Still sulking?"
She shot him a glare, but he continued anyway. "Look, I know you hate these people. Trust me, I don't enjoy kissing up to murder-happy warlords either. But we've built a massive army now, and the stronger our enemies get, the more we need insurance."
Elvira didn't answer. She didn't need to. He knew the reasons she hadn't stormed off in rage yet. Knew that staying close, especially after everything with the Magus, had become more than just strategy. She never said it, but she didn't have to.
"I get it," Ben added, softer. "But staying together keeps us alive."
A long pause.
