"Yeah, okay, truce for tonight. I’m tired too. Look, there’s a bed and a couch. Which do you want?"
"I don’t mind the couch," Isadora said with gratitude. "I’ve slept in worse places."
"I’ll bet." Iphedea smirked.
Isadora would have argued with the girl if she could have. But she had slept in worse places and done a lot worse to do it than the girl could probably imagine in her most disturbing nightmares. Instead, she ignored the barb, and concentrated on shaking out the small, soft blanket that served as a cover for the couch. Iphedea concentrated on stripping down to her undergarments and sliding under the thick blankets on the bed. She moaned happily and pulled the covers up to her chin. Isadora pulled off her boots and gingerly probed the wound on her leg with two fingers.
"Yeow! What happened there?" The girl asked, staring at Isadora’s leg.
"Just my own stupidity. I shot myself accidentally."
"You have a gun?" That fact shocked Iphedea more than the fact that Isadora had shot herself with it.
"Yes. I do."
"You mean you could have shot that Imanthyr instead of letting me try to whack it to death in the dark?"