"Are they really going to be fine?" Gale muttered, leaning in to whisper to Shadowheart beside him. The others hadn't joined the conversation, but their curious gazes kept drifting toward the front.
The formation right now was quite bizarre. Ethemon was walking right at the front to clear the way, yet his other hand was firmly locked around Astarion's without a bit of give, his expression completely blank. Astarion desperately wanted to pull his hand back, but Ethemon had too tight a grip; after struggling twice and failing to break free, he simply gave up. Trot along beside them were Scratch and the Owlbear Cub, stepping steadily forward right in their footprints. Three meters behind them trailed Gale and the rest.
Even though Astarion had looked thoroughly traumatized when they first returned—refusing to come out from under his blanket at all—their schedule was tight, and they needed to board the wooden boat immediately to reach their next destination. Naturally, there was no spare time to let Astarion coddle his nerves. Knowing he was the one who had triggered Astarion, Ethemon still couldn't afford to waste time on such trifles as a team leader. He had immediately moved to hoist the elf over his shoulder and carry him off directly, scaring the thoroughly depressed Astarion into frantic, chaotic struggling. Astarion had scrambled out of his cocoon at once, though his eyes were red-rimmed and he couldn't bear to meet anyone's gaze, slowly lagging all the way to the back. …
Chapter 73