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Red recovered quickly from setbacks like this. She yelled her wild warcry again and pounced at the man, who – clearly having experience with youngsters – grabbed her neatly.

“Whoa, brat!” he said, holding her away as she flailed, “What in the name of whatever god rules this land has gotten into you?!”

Red did not know anymore, actually. What had been an impulsive cattle-rustling whatever it was had become an invasion of something very personal. Only Vetertov was allowed to grab her and hold her like a stray kitten. This strange city dwelling scum had no right! “Let go of me! Le'go le'go leg'o!” she snapped, biting at him with her dull, humanoid teeth. “Put me down!” she scrabbled at the man's hand.

“All right! Seren's light...” he put her down and backed away, reaching slowly and carefully for a sheathed weapon, partly drawing it, “I ain't going to hurt you, brat, just calm down and tell me...”

Indeed, Red recovered quickly. “Gimme your sheron!” she said, trying to look threatening, her hands on her hips, “I demand it!”

“What?”

“I'm a mighty wild tribe warrior! I demand your sheron!”

“Uh huh.” the man said, sheathing his sword, “Really.”

“Really!” she said huffily. He was so stupid he couldn't tell? Was that it? She stomped, scowling. “I want your sheron!”

The man turned away. “Not happening, brat.” he said, tugging at his beast, which looked at Red with big dumb eyes before moving, ploddingly, away.

“Is too!” she said, leaping for the sheron again, her fingers splayed like claws. The beast was hers! She'd earned it! She was entitled to it, because she was Wild Tribe and that was how it worked! “Raaar!” she cried out, followed by an “Oof!” as the man moved, almost as fast as her friend and sometimes guardian Rangion, and elbowed her in the stomach.

She coughed on the ground as the man walked away. “Try that stunt again when you've got a few more feet on you!” laughed the man, “Maybe you'll have a chance then!”