He smoothed his hand over Krem's back, slow and firm. He had not been here as long as his lieutenant, but long enough to have survived the madness Darrow seemed to like throwing around. Last year it was violent nightmares and memories of his death. This year... he could not decide if it was better or worse. It was more familiar, strangely.

"We are," he said with a huffed laugh. "And someone strong enough to swing it."