“What do you mean you can’t?”  Tahn’di had finished tying the ha’la’ai over the back of her horse behind the saddle and stared at Claktiss in disbelief.  “You owe me.”

Claktiss fought the urge to roll her eyes.  “Yes, but you must know what this means,” she said, pointing at the unconscious creature.  The blood had poured over his face from the wound she’d given him, but he still breathed.  He hadn’t roused in the time it had taken to strip him of his armor, truss him up properly, and wrestle him over the horse; she wondered now if he ever would.  It actually saddened her he might not, and that surprised her more than his arrival.  He was much larger than the one Chuktik had captured, with black fur on his head...

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