The girl remembered her talk with Crate. "Why are you going, brother?"
Marvate shrugged. "Because it's right, sister."
"Wolf-dung. It's no more right than stay'n and help'n your father, like I'm do'n." She crossed her arms for maximum disapproval gaze. "Sides, we both know you're really in it for the glory."
He shrugged again. "I'm not gonna make you understand, Amythra. The Borc need our help and they've sacrificed themselves for the Mume already. Seems right I should help."
"You'd do as much good kill'n yourself now and let them catapult your corpse in front of the Cross Malitia for all the good you'll do with a sword."
"Oh such words of encouragement, Amythra. But don't hold it in, sister. You'll strain yourself."
"You're such a fool."
"It's my choice!" Marvate stood up taller than his sister. "And I aim to make the best of that choice!"
Amythra met his stare, hands on hips. "A choice you shouldn't even be allowed to make! You already got a job with father!"
"Should be allowed...? That doesn't even make a lick of sense! Who's choice would it be if not mine, then? Your's?!"
"Well I know better than to just chuck you out into the winter air of the north with only your friend's shed blood to warm you!"
"You don't even know if that'll happen! You don't know anything!"
"And you do?" Amythra threw her hands up and screamed in frustration, then turn opposite Marvate to growl. "You've such a thick head, Marvate. Such a thick head!"
"Quiet!" the marf yelled "I'm try'n to be sick over here!"
[And I missed another day yesterday due to extreme sleep problems. 12 Days off left this year.]