At the mercy of the thorns

Isla

"I think it will hold. It seems remarkably strong," Isla says conversationally of the bridge beneath their feet. Whether she's merely making small talk or she's noticed the hesitance in his steps remains a secret; either way, even groaning and swaying, the Brittlebone doesn't seem intent on throwing them into the water.

"Yes," she agrees of the refuge, nodding and smiling across at the Sentinel. "Quite a few, lately. King's End is getting busier. It probably helps that there's a demigod running a brothel, there." An offhand comment in an offhand conversation, because the last thing Isla wants to discuss in detail right now is Sunjata. Not that Noah is aware.

I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard