“Trained griffons are rare, mate. Like I know they’re out in the wild now, too, but they were literally extinct not too long ago. What if you’re here to sabotage the griffons, poison their feed? I’ve gotta keep an eye out.”

Not that Astrid fully believes that this girl would do that — there’s something sorry and sad beneath her seething irritation, most apparent around the animals — but still. Precautions.

So she keeps tagging along with a quick-step beside the brawnier stranger, but there’s a twist of her mouth, a sheepish, “Sorry.”