[ The urge to bite him nearly won out when he pried her mouth open. It was more of the same from his camp, beside that stream. Some pale shadow of gentleness, turned poisonous and made unnerving by the intimacy therein. Instead she reluctantly opened her jaw and bite down on the piece of cloak he provided. It tasted like stale blood and dust and for the first time she wondered what they used to dye those red cloaks.

That thought was ripped from her with a shout of pain that answered the pop of her joint. The ringing in her ears continued while he helped her arm into the sling and she pulled it tight on her own, padding it with that red cloth, while he went to pack up the shackles.

She'd have broken her arm earlier if she'd thought it would have gotten her out of those.

Anyway, he made that recommendation like it was up for debate. ]

More than a bit.

[ It probably wasn't up for debate. ]

Choke me for speaking out of hand when we make camp if you want, your lordship, but I'm used to sleeping outside. And I don't want to get attacked again. [ Realizing she should qualify that, she continued, ] There were more than four; that means they're spread out. We should keep on for at least a few hours and make camp well off the road after that. Just to be sure.