“I appreciate your offer to help me, but no thank you,” Cole said sternly as he began rewinding the leather strap over his hand. “I do know what this represents,” he coldly admitted, “and I firmly believe this is a private matter best handled without any outside assistance.”
“Now, Kryschenn, if you really want to help someone,” Cole brashly suggested to her, “help out the rest of the Outworlders, and the people of Yarfell and Macula in their fight against Venger. You do not need to concern yourself with me. I’m just one person. I’m not really important when you compare that to the hundreds, thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people who will be injured, maimed, or killed, once Venger’s army comes crashing through here ready to take over everything. So you don’t need to go around making a big deal out of me looming over the rest of you.”
“Trust me, I won’t be doing anything really crazy when dealing with this,” he said flashing the mark on his hand to her. “And whether you believe it or not, I already do have someone willing to help me with my... little problem.”
While Cole had been talking he knew that another, very big problem could soon come up. So far, Kryschenn was the only one who had a good enough look at what was beneath his bandage to see that is was no simple scar. If she truly felt the mark was so important, she could very easily tell the others what had occurred between herself and the Mentalist and about the mark he wore on his right hand. They had been on their way to meet with some of them, and were not that much farther from the clearing. He already felt betrayed by her earlier action, and wasn’t really sure what he could really do to prevent her from alerting the rest of the Outworlders.
