Boy ended up being caught by a rope that pulled him up a tree and wriggled free to fall and hit the ground. This follows that.
"You slipped out of that rope
quickly," a girl's voice said, her voice low and hard.
"I think I kind of fell,"
Boy said.
A grunt answered him, and Boy felt the
weight move from his back, followed by hands examining his pants and
shirt quickly.
"You have no weapons," the
girl said, sounding even more suspicious and, Boy thought,
disappointed, which struck him as pretty odd even for a world with
talking foxes and a sky that felt wrong.
"I have a fox," Boy offered.
The weapon pressed lightly against his
back and the boy felt several jagged edges, almost like teeth.
"Are you a squire?" the girl
demanded.
"I don't know what that is,"
Boy said.
"And you're no magician despite
your clothing," the girl continued, "or you would have
struck me down with a spell by now."
"Maybe I'm a nice magician?"
Boy muttered, who was feeling quite put upon by this time.
The girl laughed at that. Her laugh
was light and warm, and the blade was removed from his back. "That
would be as likely as finding a witch that doesn't eat children,"
she said.
