Madha squeezed softly the hand he was still holding and said solemnly, "That three-horned bull isn't a normal wild beast. Even with guards backing us, we might not win."
The words dimmed Gara's eyes, only for them to flare back up a heartbeat later.
"If we can't beat it the normal way… then we just use another method."
"What method?" Unease crept into Madha's chest.
Gara didn't answer right away. He opened his cloth bag and pulled out several jars.
"These are my strongest anesthetics. When ingested, they'll knock you out in under a minute." He held up three jars. "We'll put that bull to sleep."
"But how do you make a bull swallow them?" Madha asked.
Fian extended his hand toward him. "I can do it."
Madha frowned. "Scouting from a distance is one thing, but making them consume this… I'm not sure." Madha looked concerned.
Even though he always felt threatened by Fian's existence—the fear that the elf could take Gara away from him—he would not throw him to his death.
