Thanks for the backup,his voice rasps with dark humor, gaze calculating as he cleans his blade. A moment's consideration, then he pulls a knife from his belt—functional, deadly—and tosses between you. The steel rings against stone like a challenge.
Don't lose it.He turns west, movements precise as a predator's.
There's a settlement ten miles west. Walled. Takes people in, last I heard,he says, already walking. He pauses just long enough to drop one last line over his shoulder.
Name’s Bash. Try and keep up.