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to camp, she had Paz drop the oversized bag he wore on his back packed with all of their camping supplies, then sent him off to try and find some dry wood for a fire. Since it was only the beginning of the Chill season, the night wasn't painfully cold. She could survive if she needed to without a fire if she curled up underneath her blankets in her tent, but she would prefer a little warmth. Luck was not with her, though, as everything Paz brought back was too wet to light.
    "Can't you tell the difference between a good stick and a bad one?" she said, shaking her finger at the construct.
    Silence was all she received in return.
    Ezzy knew that the Vilathos wasn't a living creature with a single thought of its own, but sometimes it made her feel better to talk to it. Especially when she was alone. She had spent more of her late teenage and young adult life with the Vilathos than with anyone else. That was probably why she had gotten so good at instilling complicated instructions in it. Nolan had said even at a young age, she was a natural Handler.
    Setting the Vilathos to guard their location, Ezzy had crawled into the tent, wrapped herself up in her blankets, and fallen right to sleep last night.
    Even with the uncomfortable ground and slight chill in the tent, Ezzy had been able to sleep soundly. With nothing else to do but wait, she had let herself sleep in till late morning. After rising, cleaning up the tent, having a few pieces of fruit for breakfast, and then having a one-sided conversation with Paz about the finer points of caravan management, Ezzy had run out of things to do.
    Waiting was painful.
    Not like the sharp pain of a wrist broken during a sparring match or the slow burn of going a few days without food, but having to wait all day on the southern plains of Wethrintir made Ezzy's entire body itch. Ezzy had always been a person of action even from a young age. She led her younger brothers around from the moment they could walk, like a shepherdess leading her flock, making sure they did what she wanted while keeping them out of trouble. When her father was away on a caravan, she controlled the house. Well, as much as her mother would let her.
    Stuck out in the middle of an open field with nothing to do but sit and stare at her Vilathos, she was starting to go stir-crazy.
    "This is your fault," she said as she tossed a damp stick at Paz. "If you hadn't caused so much destruction, I could have stayed to talk to the Healer. Now we have to wait."
    The stick bounced off of Paz's arm. The Vilathos didn't move.
    "Oh, don't you act all noble," Ezzy continued. "I've spent years training you to avoid crashing into walls. I assumed that included what you hit when you swung your fists. You turned most of those walls into windows."
    Silence.
    "You could at least feel a little guilty about it!"
    Through their bond, she commanded Paz to raise his hands to cover its stone face. It complied, which gave it the appearance of an ashamed child. Ezzy liked it. If she got really bored she would spend some time instilling a command that would make him repeat the gesture whenever she said a few keys words. Maybe later. She was having a good time relieving some stress by admonishing an inanimate object.
    "And throwing that thug at me! That was certainly the worst thing you did last night."
    Paz remained hidden behind his hands.
    "Oh, don't you dare turn this on me. I've taught you a wide range of fighting tactics, but unless I'm controlling every little action, you just do the same routine. Pound and throw. Tossing an enemy is only affective if it doesn't end with them on top of me."
    Still Paz hid. Ezzy felt a pang of guilt for a moment, then quickly squashed it. It was one thing to have a conversation with a mindless creation, it was another thing to feel bad about berating it. She commanded Paz to lower his hands.
    "Alright, alright. I can admit when I'm wrong. I put the effort in training you not to hit Nolan or me, but I never taught