Young Writers Society

James looked over to her, ready to reply with an 'are you sure' but instead, held his tongue. He didn't know much about her, but he could tell she seemed set in her decision.

"Alright then." Though he knew he'd probably feel worse tomorrow, once all his bruises formed and swelled up.

"Will you be?" Tasha inquires.

James replied rather quickly. "Yes."

She drags herself up at first light, getting her stuff all in a bag and saddling Nightmare.

James woke up with the sudden realization that he had to condense all of his things and actually leave. It was amazing how many times he had to come upon the revelation for it again, to take him by surprise. So needless to say, he was a bit beside himself as he packed all of his things into his saddlebag (which naturally, hadn't been attached to a saddle in quite some time). He hurriedly cleaned all of the bloodied rags along with his shirt, and somehow managed to finish by the time Tasha was saddling up.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and took one last look around the cave. As much as this had been his home... he would not miss it. He let out a small sigh, straightening up despite how much his body ached, and nodded over to Tasha.

"Ready to head out?"

She nods, taking Nightmare's bridle. "Lead the way."

James responded with a gruff "Mm," and stepped out in front of her horse and lead the way out. When they emerged from the cave, the rain-filled clouds had departed, and were replaced with a clear blue sky. The sun shone brightly as it rose on the horizon, filling the already glowing scenery with more light. Now, with the absence of the giant predator, James found that he was actually able to appreciate the landscape for its beauty... for a moment. After he'd briefly halted in taking it all in, he pushed forward again, weaving his way through the bushes and trees.

She looks about the land, breathing in the fresh air. The grangor's huge body lays sprawled several yards away. Tasha walks over to it and kneels next to the feline's mammoth head, laying a hand on the thick fur before drawing a long knife.

James looked back to see Tasha heading for the fallen, dead, body of the grangor. He twisted on his heels as he course corrected to follow her, but he felt his stomach was uneasy as he aporoached the body of the giant feline. It was... strange, so see it so... still. The very life out of the being, gone. Of course, he felt even more uneasy when it was alive, but still, it was strange.

The fallen beast smelled horrible though. Even though the rain had washed much of the blood away, the exposed wounds and the lifeless creature naturally attracted flies - or fly-like bugs (they were certainly larger than normal flies). He had to hold his breath as he approached to bear with the scent.

He watched Tasha from behind as she touched the grangor's head, noticing her draw the knife. "Tasha...?" He asked quietly, unsure of what she was doing.

She mutters something in a foreign tongue under her breath, then uses the knife to take a fang from the cat, turning it in her hands. "One tooth from every kill. For...remembrance," is her only answer as she rises.

"Ah..." James nodded, though he didn't completely understand what she was getting at, if, she was in fact, implying anything beyond what she said. "I see."

He tilted his head a bit as he looked into the grangor's mouth and noted the missing tooth. "I suppose it won't be missing it."

"No." Tasha flips the tooth in her hand, tucking it into her belt. "It'll make a nice dagger."

James nodded again, but this time with genuine understanding. "Oh."

"Which way, then, marohabur?"

James pointed his finger towards the forest but tilted his head to the side in confusion. What did she just say? "¿Que?"