š¹ļø THORNE
He took each step tentatively, like he feared that the ground would swallow him whole if he trod too heavily. Flanking him were two deltas; behind him were gammas whose eyes snapped furtively about for any more threats lying in wait.
No one made a sound as they watched him being aided forward, step by step. My jaw clenched as I took in the stump of what remained of his arm.
It had already started to heal, but there had been no way that a Vargan that old would not have been able to heal an entire limb. Still, suspicion rippled through the concern and relief, almost taking it over completely.
And just like I had done when his arm had been found, I stepped forward, walking toward them.
Zeta Kael's eyes wandered, seemingly lost, glazed over like he was not even fully there.
