“The lights of the first mate are also strong and unadulterated, but not nearly of an intensity approaching that of the Captain. Certain shades and tints are completely absent in Ahlitah, but those colors he does manifest are almost overpowering.” He sniffed and, lifting a hand from beneath the blanket, rubbed his nose.
Simna’s natural reaction to all this was to laugh heartily. But seeing the seriousness with which Ehomba was rendering his appraisals, the swordsman could not quite bring himself to do so. The herdsman was jesting, of course. Having one of his silent, slightly taciturn chuckles at the expense of a friend. People, much less cats like Ahlitah, did not glow. If they did, someone as sharp-eyed as himself would surely have noticed it by now. But he was happy to run with the joke, enjoying the fertility of his laconic companion’s imagination. His friend might or might not be the mighty sorcerer Simna supposed him to be, but he was certainly a fine storyteller. The sincerity with which he spun his tall tales only added to their seeming veracity.
“You overlooked someone.” He indicated a large, unkempt gray mass resting on the deck like a pile of discarded rugs. “What about Hunkapa Aub?”
Ehomba gazed thoughtfully in the direction of their humble companion. “He is a strange one. I can descry occasional bursts of light from him, but they are very subdued and difficult to catch.” He grinned gently. “Maybe it is all that fur. Certain things can block out a person’s light. Although I have never before known hair to do it, neither have I ever known anyone covered with quite so much hair.” His attention drifted. “I think the rest of the day will be fine. I wonder how far we are from Doroune?”