Following Thal dutifully, K'aijeen was silent and restrained. She kept her face down and the rags of the robe bundled about her. The Amal'jaa's own stink and the pervasive sulfurous fumes would kept any of them from noticing the pervasive stench of death that still clung to K'aijeen, as if it were in her very bones.
Once they were far enough out that Thal was willing to speak, K'aijeen let her ears pop up to hear him and lifted shrouded face to look at him, able to see decently through the thin cloth stretched over her face. The feeling of the rag on her eyes was the least uncomfortable sensation she was currently contending with. Rolling her chin to loosen the muscles in her throat, she croaked. "I can call a wind. Dust."
Once they were far enough out that Thal was willing to speak, K'aijeen let her ears pop up to hear him and lifted shrouded face to look at him, able to see decently through the thin cloth stretched over her face. The feeling of the rag on her eyes was the least uncomfortable sensation she was currently contending with. Rolling her chin to loosen the muscles in her throat, she croaked. "I can call a wind. Dust."
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