She heard the buzz of an arrow nearby, and froze midstep, straining her ears. This was what bothered Syra, not being able to see the fighting around her, not knowing if someone was aiming something at her. She took a deep breath, focusing on the sounds around her. The other one on the path, who had been coming up behind her...yes. They, whoever the attackers were, were focusing on him, not her. She heard his soft voice. Bandits. It was saddening. There was no reason for this violence. Absolutely none.
Her hands clasped at her chest, a whispered prayer escaped her lips, directed at the man. A plea for his safety. Those large fuzzy ears of hers rotated, catching the noises as she turned to face the fight. She remained standing in that pose as the brief fight waged.
Bodies hit the dirt, and Syra strained her senses. No more rapid steps, no more shouting. And she didn't smell blood. So, the man had not killed the bandits. A small smile curved her lips, the woman pleased at the lack of bloodshed. Life was valuable.
The jingling of ...coins. Or other small valuables. She was confused, at least until he spoke again, and Syra nodded half to herself in approval. And finally she spoke above a whisper. "Blessing to you, traveller."