There were some who might not have trusted her and in the future trusting people like this was almost inevitably going to get him stabbed in the eye - but he was aware of that. He knew that sometimes that gut instinct telling you everything was alright was wrong.

The alternatives were unacceptable, though.

He smiled at her. A smile was something that looked like it didn't belong on a face that pale, filthy, and bloody, yet there it was.

He lowered the spear and sat down on a nearby rock, to rest for a moment since the sudden surge of adrenaline had burnt up much-needed energy.

"That's the spirit," he said. "If you need a breather, pull up a log. If anyone stumbles on us and wants to start trouble, I'll take care of them. All my weapons are poisoned."