I kicked the nearby wall with the toe of my boot, hard.

Ezzie said, despondent.

Ezzie said.

I sighed and covered my face with both hands.

Ezzie said.

I said, though it obviously wasn’t. But pointing the finger at Ezzie wasn’t going to do either of us any good. I made my way over to the cookpot and queued up another round of stew, bringing my cooking skill up to three.

I shrugged. I’d been really counting on that armor, and getting blanked on it made tomorrow’s invasion feel utterly, unspeakably hopeless.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Ezzie flinched through the link. <…what?> she said, in a quiet, wounded voice.

she said. She paused and took a few deep breaths.

I said, which was half-true at best.

Ezzie said.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I chewed that over for a minute, searching for an angle that would let me get through to her, because I already had my own doubts and dealing with hers was pushing me way too close to the edge. I said.

Ezzie sniffed, and I felt her nod through the link.

I said.

Ezzie said, trailing off.

Ezzie said, morose.

Ezzie said.

I knew I had her then, because that argument was nonsense.

Ezzie said, and she sounded so small that it hurt my heart.

Ezzie was quiet for a long moment. Then she said:

I scratched the back of my head. The nickname had just popped into my head.

Ezzie said.

Ezzie said.

I nodded.

<…yeah,> I said.

I said. I sat down crosslegged in front of the cooking pot and started sipping from it with the huge ladle.

I said, as I stirred the stew I’d made. I’d already gotten the well-fed buff, so I didn’t see any reason to keep eating. Didn’t have much of an appetite.

I dropped the ladle into the pot.

Ezzie hesitated.

Ezzie said.