“Oh no, we’re under attack,” Larian muttered. With one finger, she plucked the string of the bow lying next to her. “Eat my best techniques, robbers! Pchew, pchew!” She clapped a hand to her armored chest. “Ack! They got me! I’ll tell my grandchildren of this battle. Let us part with mutual respect.” Then she yawned and leaned back, pillowing her head on her hands.
