Vahl nodded, “We have one of them in holding, Preator,” he bowed, “I will fetch the other,”
Vahl took his leave, and made his way to the quarantine chambers. He dreaded it; the shortlings did not smell good.
To his surprise, and chagrin, the quarantine chamber was a cacophony of shortling voices that made his eyes narrow, and his ears hurt. They all spoke at once. There was no order with these ones. One voice super-imposed upon the next like a dull white noise.
“SILENCE” he cried for order. None heard him over their own boisterousness. At the head of frey, Conrad Reyes there with hands outstretched in an attempt to calm his people; and failing miserably.
“Conrad Reyes!” Vahl yelled over gathered throng.
The shortling looked up at him, “Vahl?”
Vahl more read his small mouth than heard. Vahl motioned for Reyes to follow.
“My people are scared, Vahl. We have so many questions”
“Yes. I know this,” Vahl admitted. “Come with me!”
“Where?”
“This way”
“Where will you take me?”
Vahl’s mouth twisted, “This way”