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soundofmind says...



◄ Kiirion Ayair Faelar ►


No one was happy. Besides maybe Thorik, who seemed oddly entertained by the tension between those in the group - as if it were amusing. The idea of them all getting along and being best friends was a blatant and unrealistic fantasy, but for some reason, he found that somewhere inside his mind that remained his one naive expectation.

It irked him. But it was inconsequential to their mission, provided he didn't hold to it and stubbornly kept hold of the bitter cynicism he was so proud of.

He turned to watch as Ésmaril walked off with Sagaree and Savitri. Though he was tempted to keep close tabs on Savitri because of her reluctance to bow to his voted in leadership, he didn't want to show any insecurities in his authority by keeping a tight leash on the one person who'd so strongly opposed him.

All in all, he was conflicted. He wanted them to respect him like they ought to, but for whatever petty reasons, several of them seemed to be almost resentful of his place in the group. The healer as the leader? When has that ever gone well? A leader leads the army into battle. They don't run around, waiting for someone on their team to get wounded just to heal them. What are you thinking Kiirion? Is this how you want to carry on our family legacy? As a doctor who doesn't know his pla-

Suddenly his thoughts were hijacked by the voice of his mother.

That was unsavory.

Kiirion closed his eyes for a brief second before turning to the remaining group as he secured his horse to the tree.

"So, we'll set up camp, shall we?" He said with a nod to Melvix and Willow, who had begun busying themselves with doing just that. They only nodded in affirmation. Their silence, however, irked him. As were many things, apparently.

Then there was a voice from below.

"We're getting firewood," Thorik said with what Kiirion could swear was a smirk beneath his thick beard. Kiirion looked down at the dwarf, realizing that with all of his new companions, he was going to have to repeatedly heal his own neck for how often he would have to crane if just to see their faces properly. Another downside to working with dwarves and humans.

"Yes. That we are. I only meant 'we' as in, we are all working together to accomplish the task by each doing what is necessary," Kiirion explained - though as a needless defense. Thorik's question might've been merely a sassy and innocent comment, but Kiirion had failed to interpret it that way.

Thorik lowered his head once the word 'yes' had left Kiirion's mouth. It seemed the neck issue was not one sided. He swung his axe over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow at Kiirion. "I chop, you carry?"

Kiirion nodded politely, finding his usual contrived smile appearing on his face. "That sounds like a fine plan, so let's get going. We're losing daylight."

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

"Who's there?" Ésmaril demanded.

Her question was met by silence, as the shuffling that once made the noise from the bushes was stilled in an instant. Sagaree and Savitri slowly approached behind Ésmaril on either side of her, with Sagaree gripping his staff and Savirti sniffing the air to detect what it was.

More silence.

"It's only a-" Savitri started.

A small doe darted out of the bushes, with its fluffly white tail bobbing behind it.

"-deer," Ésmaril said with a sigh and a small smile, feeling a little silly for almost interrogating a deer. But as the deer ran up to them, suddenly a very dark presence was felt, and the deer, while in motion, shifted from it's small, fluffy form into an inky, black imp. It sprouted scraggly wings and several horns running down its back, and it was still running - straight for Savitri.

Savitri bared her teeth, ready to leap at the evil creature, but before it could reach her an arrow ran through its small body.

Ésmaril stood with her bow in hand, and her eyes on the hit target. Savitri slowly shrunk down, seeing the threat fallen, letting out small wheezes as last breaths.

"...If there's one imp, there's probably more," Ésmaril stated, returning her eyes to the forest around them, searching for any others. "These things usually travel in packs."

Sagaree looked at Ésmaril curiously. "How do you know so much about these Otherworldly beings?"

Ésmaril flipped her head back around to him, a small grin on her lips. "Stories, Sagaree. The story runs in my ancestors' blood. Of course I did some reading on it."

Sagaree only gave a small pout-like shrug of his mouth.

"This one," Savitri spoke up, looking down at the dying imp rasping for breath under the trap of her paw. "Does he speak? Can we get answers from him?"

Sagaree and Ésmaril both looked down at the imp. If the imp could speak, it didn't have long.

"I... don't know if imps can talk," Ésmaril pondered quietly. Savitri, however, took it as license to find out.

"Speak, inkthing," Savitri ordered.

The imp's neck quivered, and its form changed again to that of a young deer, though of course, it was still bleeding.

"Yo͜u're̸ a҉ĺl......" the imp began in a voice deeper than seemed fitting for such a small creature, pausing a great while before continuing. "Y͜oú'r̡e͠ a͏ll ͝goìn̵g ̸t̶o̵ ͞d̸ie̢. ̸S̷ay͟ your̴ ͡ģo͢odb͝y̛es ̶n̵ow.͝..."

Then quiet, as the imp's voice breathlessly gave out and it fell limp beneath Savitri's paw.

The three all looked at one another, expecting one of them to comment on the imp's ominous, and factually useless, reply.

"I guess we should let the others know we're not alone out here?" Ésmaril finally asked.

"Immediately. If you think there may be more of these imps they could be tracking us, or they already know about us," Savitri nodded decisively.

Sagaree leaned in on his staff, looking at the queen and the elf inquisitively.

"Are we sure that this imp is with the Slyrinik?" He asked.

"Would you rather take the chance that it's not?" Savitri shot back.

Awkward silence.

Ésmaril cleared her throat. "Well, let's finish canvassing the area. Savitri, can you go back and tell the others about the threat?"

Savitri gave Ésmaril a look before she looked over to Sagaree. "Sagaree should be the messenger. I think I will be more useful out here."

Both pairs of eyes landed on Sagaree. Not looking to argue, Sagaree bowed his head slightly. "...Of course," he said simply, before ducking away under a tree, back to camp.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

Wood chips flew in every direction as Thorik hacked away at a fallen tree's branches. Kiirion stood to the side, watching the sturdy dwarf at work. Thorik held up another long branch, and threw it to Kiirion.

Kiirion, with his arms already mostly full, extended a hand while cradling the other chunks of firewood in his arm. Despite the dramatic height difference, Thorik had consistently managed to throw the chopped wood over his head. Kiirion caught it with a grunt.

"Throwing them that high is hardly necessary," Kiirion quipped.

"Maybe," Thorik grunted as he swung his axe into another unfortunate piece of plant life. "I'm only using your ears as goalposts. Makes it easier to aim."

Kiirion's eye twitched. Thorik's lips curved into another smirk.

"Oh, calm your elven locks, Kiirion," Thorik laughed heartily. "You're looking like I just insulted your mother! It's only a joke. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Your dwarven humor fails to -" Kiirion started, before he was stopped by another chunk of firewood chucked at his face. He ducked.

Thorik chuckled again, but this time more to himself as he watched Kiirion simply stare back at him with a neutral expression.

"We have enough firewood. Let's head back," Kiirion said.

Thorik stepped past him, picking up the fallen piece Kiirion had missed. "Agreed."

As they turned to make their way back to the camp, they saw a familiar figure heading their way with haste. It was Sagaree - which seemed oddly out of character. Kiirion had not pinned his archetype as a messenger. But a lone wolf, yes.

"Is something amiss, Sagaree?" Kiirion called out.

Sagaree slowed, but still made his approach. "We found an imp in the forest. We believe it's some kind of spy or scout from their side. Ésmaril said if there's one, there are probably more."

Kiirion locked eyes with Sagaree, and looked about the forest. Imps?

"Then we'll have to keep-

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗

-a lookout for them. It looks like they can shape-shift, so things might not be what they seem," Ésmaril explained to Savitri, as they finished checking the area.

"For now, the coast looks clear," Savitri replied.

"Looks clear, yes..." Ésmaril sighed.

Savitri tilted her head as she looked up at Ésmaril. Though she understood the desire to find whatever else was lurking out here, she knew they'd face it best as a group. "We should be headed back."

"Yes. I suppose so."
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






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Sat Mar 03, 2018 11:11 am
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Lightsong says...



★ Melvix Antavex of Ranning, Heir to Taron ★


Since they started their journey, Melvix was pretty pleased with their peaceful exploration. There was no encounter with evil creatures or just naturally offensive beings yet, which meant no bloodshed for him. Despite having the skills to kill a wild animal, he didn't like the thought of ending life or making others suffer. He wished the situation would stay this way until they arrived at their destination.

About the competition for leadership that had happened briefly but with such intensity, he wasn't sure he liked the outcome. Sure, both Kiirion and Savitri had the qualities to be in charge, but Savitri was the one who didn't like defeat - or submission, in this case - more than Kiirion. He could see this with the way she threw looks of disdain to Kiirion, and if this kept continuing, it would be hard to get both of them work with each other. Melvix hoped he had a way to calm Savitri about this, but right now, he kept stumbling at a dead end.

As he continued his reflections, Melvix busied himself with helping Willow set up stakes in the ground for one of their tents, and clearing the ground of excess sticks and stones. He heard the sound of footsteps getting closer but he didn't mind it as he was having other thoughts.

"Wow, you're so far away from here, aren't you?" Willow said, standing next to him and helping him with the work.

"Hmm?" he said, blinking.

She grinned, nodding. "Yup, you're off somewhere else. What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," he said, then reconsidered. Lying didn't seem to benefit him now. "I'm just thinking of what's happening. About others, too." He smiled. "If you're around me long enough, you'll know sometimes I'm just like this."

Willow shook her head. "I didn't expect a warrior to ponder on things, really. Most of them prefer to act rather than think."

"Exactly. Most of them."

She chuckled. "And you're the first to act so knowledgeable."

Melvix smiled wider. "Well, I think each of us is unique in our own way." Come to think of it, he didn't know much about Willow. From afar, one could see she was just a typical warrior, but she had to be more than that, hadn't she? Maybe he could find out.

"What about you?" he asked, giving her some space to to stick in a stake. 'What do you think about all of this?'

Willow shrugged. "I think it's pretty much what I've expected. The leader issue, for example. Savitri is such a headstrong person, I wasn't surprised when she didn't take her loss well. From there you could see Kiirion was the better option for a leader." She frowned. "What I don't like though is that we have it easy from the start. Where's the bad guy? Where's the battle so I can show off my skills? It's pretty boring."

Melvix thought of this. "I think we have different ideas of what we want."

Willow nodded. "I'm the energetic one, which makes me a more interesting person. You, on the other hand, spends so much time in silence, which makes you the boring one. I totally agree."

Melvix laughed.

Willow chuckled alongside him, but her head perked up at the sound of footsteps approaching further in the forest. Through the trees, they could see three of their comrades approaching: Kiirion with arms full of chopped wood in front, followed by Thorik and Sagaree. From the looks on their faces, something had happened.

Kiirion set down the firewood hastily, before turning to Willow and Melvix, appearing calm and composed. "The scouts found and slayed an imp not far from us spouting ominous words of a foreboding nature. We can only assume that this imp is one of the enemy. We must all keep an eye out. It's possible we might not be able to make camp here, if there are more imps lurking in the shadows, as we suspect."

Melvix frowned. Did that mean his work with Willow could be for nothing? He didn't like that. More reasons to have no intruding creatures like imps around. He didn't speak his mind, not wanting to cause a potential conflict.

Willow, on the other hand, put on this curiously sweet smile. "Are you serious?" she said cordially. "Are you saying what I did with Melvix was just a way for us to waste our energy? Like, we're just decorating this place for fun?"

No, Melvix groaned inwardly.

Kiirion's brows raised as he looked back at her with an equally fake grin. "Are you presupposing that I'd conceived this plan with the knowledge beforehand that it would be proved useless because of the presence of our enemy lurking nearby?" The grin faded. "Our attention should be set on the possible threat to us, and our world. Do get your priorities in order."

Willow opened her mouth, surely to spew some hurtful words, before she looked away. "I voted for you, bastard," she muttered under her breath, low enough only Melvix could hear it.

If there was a spell to teleport somewhere else from here, he would take it. He didn't like drama, and it seemed like Kiirion would start more with Willow. Thankfully, Willow didn't drag this argument further. For now, at least.

"Look," he said, looking at Willow and Kiirion. "Maybe the enemies aren't around here, and maybe our work isn't useless. For now, I'm sure Kiirion and Thorik and those who haven't come yet will want a rest, and we have set up a camp for that." He smiled at Kiirion, hoping the latter would get the hint that now wasn't the time for a dispute.

Kiirion raised his chin slightly as he looked at Melvix, showing no emotion. "Yes. All of your work is appreciated. I only ask that we all remain flexible." He paused, barely opening his mouth as if to continue, but stopped himself with a stiffening of the jaw.

Melvix sighed in relief. He watched as Kiirion, Sagaree and Thorik moved into one of the camps, noticing how Sagaree and Thorik were quiet since they came here. Maybe they were just like him, not wanting to participate in any tasteless fight. When he had made sure it was just him and Willow outside, he turned to her.

"He started it," Willow said, not giving him the chance to speak first.

He rubbed his face. "Yes, I know that. I can see he can be a bit insensitive - " Willow scowled at the word 'bit' " - but he had a point, at the end. We're in the middle of the forest with no knowledge of what's going to happen next. Also, aren't you the one who wanted to have something to fight against?"

She shifted her sitting position. "Well, yes, but I don't like rude people. You know what? I think Savitri and Kiirion have an issue about their supposed superiority. It makes me lose the interest to fight."

Seeing Willow was relaxing, Melvix smiled. Both of them stood up and were about to go their respective camps when they heard leaves rustling. Being warriors, they assumed a defensive position, expecting for an attack when Savitri and Esmaril came running towards them. Kiirion, Sagaree and Thorik went out of their camp to see what had happened.

Esmaril spoke first, her breathing ragged. "We - we saw something out there. It's - we think - we think it's imps. A - a giant swarm of them." She looked at Savitri.

"They're coming -" Savitri said, catching her breath. "They're right behind us!"
"Writing, though, belongs first to the writer, and then to the reader, to the world.

The subject is a catalyst, a character, but our responsibility is, has to be, to the work."

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Thu Mar 08, 2018 1:58 am
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Atticus says...



★Sagaree Poashend of Laramor★


Kiirion was the first to react. "What? Do you have proof?"

Savitri growled. "Of course your first reaction would be to doubt us after we deliver important information. You dare to accuse us of lying about this? What do we look like for you, little children lying for attention?"

"I never accused you of lying," Kiirion defended himself. "I asked you if you had proof so that we could gather from that evidence what we have to do."

"That's a convenient excuse," Savitri snarled.

"While I hate to interrupt this fascinating intellectual debate, perhaps we should put it off for a time when we are not being chased by creatures who have intent to kill us. Just a suggestion," Willow managed to keep her voice perfectly neutral, but there was a twinkle of humor in her eye.

"I second that movement," Esmaril agreed.

"Fine. But we shall resume this argument later." Savitri cast one final spiteful glance at Kiirion and then turned her attention to Willow. "I suppose you have a fantastic idea to remedy this situation?"

Just as she said that, there was the sound of leaves rustling, and everyone immediately jumped. Each warrior reached for his or her respective weapons, bracing themselves for a battle. Sagaree felt the adrenaline surging through his veins. He was surrounded by the best warriors in the world, but imps were ferocious creatures, and if they were outnumbered, they might not come away unscathed and thus hinder the mission.

Then again, it was unlikely that there were more imps than usual. They had no reason to suspect the imps were mounting a massive attack here. It defied all strategic reasoning to attack the best warriors in the world when they were all together instead of targeting easier prey in the unguarded surrounding villages.

Sagaree caught a glimpse of an imp peering around a tree. "Over there!" he shouted, pointing to the tree, but an arrow was already flying through the air. It pierced the imp straight through the chest, and it collapsed.

"Excellent aim, Esmaril," Sagaree praised. Esmaril acknowledged the compliment with a nod.

"There's almost certainly more where those came from. We must keep our guard up, for there may be a final attack that the imps are preparing themselves for. Above all, do not underestimate imps. They are cunning and clever creatures, and we must deal with them with caution," Melvix warned the others.

"We're aware of the personalities of imps, Melvix," Savitri shot back haughtily.

"Savitri, that was very rude, and I expect that you'll offer a formal apology to Melvix for what you said. I'm disappointed in your behavior. I would have expected more diplomatic behavior from a queen."

Savitri bristled, caught between a rock and a hard place. If she apologized, she would satisfy Kiirion and succumb to him, which was the last thing she wanted, but she had been rude and haughty to Melvix, and she felt guilt tugging at her.

"You're right, Kiirion," she said through gritted teeth, inclining her head slightly. "That was very rude, Melvix. I sincerely apologize and hope that you will be able to forgive me. I assure you that my annoyance was not truly with you and more of a natural response to stress, although that is no excuse for my behavior."

"I appreciate and accept your apology, Savitri," Melvix replied courteously. “But for the time being, I believe we have a more pressing matter on our hands. We may wish to deal with that sooner rather than later.” He gestured toward the forest, where everyone's eyes were trained.

They waited in their huddle for several minutes, muscles tensed, prepared for an attack from any angle at any time.The warriors seemed to have no problem with standing perfectly still for so long, holding the same pose for a remarkably long time, but after a while, Savitri let herself relax.

“This is ponitless,” she snapped. “I say we send a group, led by me, into the forest, and we'll hunt down the imps and kill them instead of standing here, waiting for them to make the first move.”

“Absolutely not,” Kiirion replied immedately. “We're not going to split up. You'll be surrounded and attacked on all sides, and there's no way you can take them all on. We have no information about our enemy here. We don't know how many there are, how skilled they are, or their incentive. We can't take a risk that big without a good reason.”

“So you suggest what? That we stand around and wait for them to launch an attack?”

“Exactly,” Kiirion retorted. “I hate wasting time like this, too. But we have no other option.”

“My suggestion was an option!”

“But not a good one.”

Savitri bared her teeth. “You've crossed the line, cocky elf,” she hissed. “Sooner or later you and your whole species will pay for that.”

Kiirion shrugged, unmoved. “I'm not afraid of some overgrown dogs. You can come running back with your whole herd, for all I care.”

Savitri was about to spit back a nasty retort when Melvix stepped in. “That's enough, you two!” he shouted. The forest itself seemed to tremble with the force of his voice, and Savitri and Kiirion backed down, still glaring at each other, but with none of the violence that had previously glimmered in their eyes.

“I'm shocked that two of the best warriors in the entire land could behave so childishly,” he scolded Savitri and Kiirion. “We are not children squabbling over a game. We are intelligent adults, some of us centuries old, and I will not stand for this undiplomatic, aggressive back-and-forth that yields no result. If there is conflict, we will handle it through civil discussion and avoid any sort of personal insults, correct? Are we not all trained in the art of peaceful negotiation? Or are you incapable of proper reasoning and only able to shout at each other?"

“Kiirion, although you are leader, you need to learn to value others input and to realize that we are not your servants. We still expect that we will have a voice in the decisions of the group, for we can and will vote to replace you if you abuse your power.

“Savitri, you need to learn to control your anger and to behave responsibly. Kiirion is, for now, your superior, and although that may insult your pride, you cannot have everything. We expect that you will do your share of the work rather than spend your time grumbling about your position and accept it with humility. Please apologize to each other for your hostility, and we will move on in a more responsible and mature way.”

Still scowling but appropriately rebuked, Savitri lowered her head. “I apologize for my aggression and hostility, Kiirion, and humbly ask your forgiveness.”

“You are forgiven.” The elf inclined his head gracefully. “I also beg forgiveness for my actions, with the promise that I will be more open to your ideas in the future.”

“Consider your transgressions forgiven and forgotten,” Savitri replied eloquently.

“And now, we will discuss our options as a group,” Melvix announced. “Do we have any more suggestions?”

“I believe we should attempt to gather more information about our enemies,” Sagaree proposed, leaning on his staff. “We cannot successfully fight an enemy that we do not know. I propose that Savitri and I venture into the forest and collect information about our enemy, and then report back to camp.”

“That's an excellent idea, but I believe a more even split would be more desirable. It would be best to split us up evenly, with Savitri, Sagaree, Thorik, and Melvix. Willow and Esmaril will join me and stay here to patrol the camp. Are we all in agreement?”

He received nods from everyone, even Savitri. The warriors moved into their respective groups, and Savitri, Sagaree, Melvix, and Thorik moved began to venture into the woods, bracing themselves for any danger that might greet them.
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"tiktok and giving children meth are my passions" ~ @ShadowVyper
"carinas long foretold chaos protege" ~ @veeren
"smol bean, future of chaos" ~ @carina





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soundofmind says...



Kiirion Ayair Faelar


Insolent, insubordinate, and disrespectful. All of them. He'd expected at least some sort of healthy skepticism from them all, but the complete and utter lack of respect of him as their leader was horrifying. Had they not voted him into the position? Had they already forgotten their ultimate goal? The bigger picture? Why was everyone so quick to disagree with him, when he was right? Splitting up only worried him. It was because they knew so little about their enemy that they couldn't risk splitting up. Them splitting up didn't look like them trying to learn more about their enemy - not if their enemy was already watching them and aware of their movements. Then they were just thinning their defense and splitting them into easier to defeat groups. Because if they really didn't know their enemy they couldn't afford to underestimate them.

Kiirion sighed.

Was gaining the trust of his companions and getting into their good graces by agreeing with them worth such a risk?

He closed his eyes slowly, beginning to feel the oncomings of a splitting headache.

Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could heal yourself? The mocking voice inside his head began to tease. Then you could get rid of the headache you caused for yourself.

Kiirion began to rub his temples as he sat on the stump around the campfire. Willow and Ésmaril had been pacing around the camp, keeping an eye on their surroundings while Kiirion sat back and prepared their meal. Pulling a hand away from his head, he fiddled with the spoon in the pot above the fire, and stirred the stew.

He wasn't sure how it was going to turn out. Even in his long lifetime he'd never had to cook much, but he knew he'd skimmed through enough recipes that he could understand it well enough. Or at least, Willow seemed to assume so when she asked if he could do the task, since apparently neither Willow or Ésmaril knew how. Unless they were lying to him and just didn't want to, which he highly suspected. But considering how ill the group's spirits were and how greatly they seemed to dislike him so far, he'd bit his tongue. And instead, his bitterness was stewing inside as he mixed the pot.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


They were on the hunt. Savitri took the lead, with her nose to the ground as she sniffed out the scent of the horde of imps. But she was disturbed - there were traces of the scent nearly everywhere, and therefore she could pinpoint it to nowhere. Yet, in her befuddlement, she kept on, hoping to catch something she was missing while the others kept their eyes open.

The group found that the forest was uncomfortably quiet as they pushed forward in the darkness. Night had fallen, and the weary travelers were eager to sleep, and eat, and rest, but the looming threat of danger kept them on their toes in expectation.

But it was just silence. For a very long time.

"Have you caught on to anything yet, Savitri?" Melvix asked, causing her to stop, and pause as she lifted her head.

"No," she replied. "Not in particular. They've... been everywhere. They must've crawled all across this forest."

"It's a wonder we didn't run into them earlier," Sagaree hummed in thought.

"It's possible they've been waiting for the opportune moment," Melvix theorized.

"So the single imp we saw before... was what, an accident? To give themselves away?" Sagaree asked.

"But there was the horde of imps," Savitri reminded them. "I saw them. A cloud of black and grey, leaping through the forest. They were rushing towards Ésmaril and I. But when we came near to the camp... at some point, they stopped coming. I don't know why."

"To get us all in one place?" Melvix thought out loud.

"No, that would've been foolish to gather us all together," Sagaree said.

"Maybe they just wanted to scare you," Thorik spoke up, causing everyone's head to tilt downward at the dwarf.

"You think they just wanted to scare us? Just... because?" Savitri questioned.

Thorik shrugged. "They're evil. And they're mischievous by nature, the imps. So it would make sense. They're pretty simple creatures."

"..." The three all looked at each other, shrugging.

"It is hard to make sense of them," Melvix admitted. "Maybe their goal isn't to make sense."

Savitri nodded. "Tactically, it's poor judgement."

"Wait. Guys. Look," Sagaree called to them, having pulled away from the group as his eye caught sight of something. He leaned his glowing blue staff down at the ground, shedding light on a trail of blood. Savitri rushed forward to it, sniffing it carefully.

"Rabbit's blood," she confirmed. "Not like the imp we killed earlier."

"Sounds like the imps got hungry," Thorik said, tapping the handle of his axe on his shoulder.

"Well, let's follow it," Melvix urged.

"Follow me," Savitri commanded as she again, took the lead - this time following a very clear trail, hoping that this would be the clue to help them learn more about their enemy, so they could return to camp soon, and know how to face them.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


Willow walked up beside Ésmaril with a small smirk on her face as she glanced over at Kiirion by the fire.

"He looks so miffed," she whispered, suppressing a chuckle.

Ésmaril's gaze slowly drifted to their elven leader, and she observed his hardened expression, and how drained he looked. "Yeah... I just wish we could all have a peaceable conversation." She sighed. "Everyone's been so divisive."

Willow frowned with disappointment when her attempt at light humor was deflected to a sour topic. "Well... I mean. He hasn't exactly made it easy you know."

"And neither have you. Or Savitri. Or Thorik. You've all been pushing each other to the edge instead of strengthening our alliance for all of our sakes in the long run. Sometimes it's not about being right. It's about winning your sister, your brother."

There was a small pause of silence as Ésmaril locked eyes with Willow. Willow broke the eye contact with another glance at Kiirion. "...You want to tell him that?"

Ésmaril's eyebrows furrowed slightly, and she pursed her lips with a look at their sulking leader.

"I don't think he would take it to heart," she replied in despondence. "Not now, anyway."

Willow shrugged, but gave Ésmaril a pat on the arm.

Ésmaril turned to Willow, giving her a weak grin. "I just wish everyone stopped overcomplicating things. We're here to fight a common enemy. Not each other."

Willow smiled, shaking her head. "You and me both, Ésmaril. You and me both."

A shuffle in the shadows. Willow's hand went to her claymore, and Ésmaril drew her bow. Wordlessly, the two turned back to back, looking for the source of the noise.

Willow whispered.

"Didn't you say these things could shape shift into normal forest animals?"

Ésmaril nodded. "Yes. They can."

Willow's eyes darted around. The shuffling of leaves. The cracking of branches.

"Then how are we supposed to know if it's an imp or just a forest critter?"

As if an answer to her question, the noises of movement; the pitter-pat of feet and the harsh flapping of bat-like wings met their ears. What at first, had sounded like one or two, multiplied to hundreds of small feet and wings approaching their way. Willow and Ésmaril began backing up in haste towards Kiirion.

"They're here!" Ésmaril shouted.

"I can hear-" Kiirion started to answer before a group of small imps burst into the clearing towards him. He pulled out his dagger. Willow rushed to his aid with her claymore in one hand, and her shield in the other. Ésmaril swiveled around just in time to shoot an arrow into the face of an imp swooping right at her.

As the swarm of imps closed in, it very quickly turned into chaos.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


They followed Savitri and the trail of blood but it wasn't long before they all began to smell the rancid scent of rotting flesh, and Savitri's exceptional scent was no longer needed. And it wasn't long before they stumbled into what almost looked like a dead patch of forest.

Sagaree lifted his staff up, causing the light to shine brighter and illuminate the scene.

It was disgusting.

Littering the ground were half-eaten carcasses of small animals, surrounded by blood and scattered with paw-prints and footprints alike. The tree trunks were scarred and scratched up with claw marks, and the leaves on the normally healthy looking trees had fallen, were dried up, and dead. Not far ahead of them, a large boulder sat atop the incline, looking down at them.

When Sagaree approached and pointed the light at the boulder all of their eyes were fixed on the giant rock.

On it, were words written in blood.


"AbAnDOn ALL hOpE
wHEn HeROes EntEr HERe
We'LL MeET YoU AT thE SLopE
AnD EnTEr HOLy FeAR

ThE CiTY WiLL BE BuRNINg
BEfORe yOU TouCH ThE GroUNd
BUt fIrST LoOk BAcK BEhIND YoU
HoW MaNY FRiENds ARE To Be FOUnD?

Or ARE yOU ToO LaTE?"
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.






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Wolfi says...



Queen Savitri of Aro
cowritten with @soundofmind


There was a dreadful silence as they read the bloody words splattered on the rock, until Thorik broke it.

"...you think they'd just use like... paint, or something."

"Seriously?" Melvix said, his face ashen in terror. "You're worried about that when all our friends back there are probably dead by now?"

"Oh," Thorik said. "Is that what that means?"

"Of course that's what it means," Sagaree said harshly.

"It was a bad idea to split up," Savitri muttered. She glanced up at the others. "But, uh... don't tell Kiirion I said that."

"If we don't get back in time we might not be able to tell him anything," Melvix replied, worry creasing his face. "We need to go!"

"Agreed," Savitri proclaimed, lifting her head and turning swiftly around. The overwhelming scent of blood was giving her a headache, anyway. Not only that, but as she led the group down the incline and back the way they came, the smell of blood seemed to linger everywhere, masking the trail. The metallic taste of it was even on her tongue.

"Are you certain we came this way?" Sagaree asked.

"Yes," was Savitri's vocal response. "No" was her immediate thought.

She plunged forward, however, determined to show no weakness. A minute later, the smell of blood dissipated until she realized that they were truly off course.

She should have waited. Just a little bit, to ready her nose. But the urgency of the situation had forced her to hurry. She slowed to a stop.

"There's no time to waste!" Melvix cried. "Why did we stop?"

"Shhh," Savitri said. Her ears perked forward. Now that they weren't crashing through the forest, she could tune her ears to listen for sounds from the camp. In an instant, she heard something. An imp? Her head whipped toward the sound.

Pivoting to her right, she launched herself into the forest, leaving the other three in the dust. The excitement seized her, rippling through her veins and spiking the gold fur on her back. Leaping over bushes, dodging trees, climbing up and over rocks—she had never exerted herself this hard in Aro, and in fact she was afraid she might pull a muscle. Before, it had been the difference between the life or death of a deer. Now, it was between the life or death of a friend.

Well, "friend" is a generous term.


⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


Willow made way with her claymore for Ésmaril to get on the high ground of the camp—or as high of ground as they could manage. But as it stood, they were too far from Kiirion to reach him between the horde of imps coming at them and the ocean of imps between them.

Ésmaril picked off imps from the center of the camp while Willow repeatedly made circles around her, keeping her comrade as clear of distractions as possible. It was an effective tactic - the bowwoman took out the flying imps while the swordswoman slayed the imps down below. And their superior skill against the imps could've held them off for as long as they decided to come, for the only real strength the imps had was in their numbers and their surprise. But that was only if they forgot about the leader of their team, which they couldn't, really.

"Is Kiirion still alive?!" Willow shouted. She couldn't see over the wall of imps.

Ésmaril hated that that was even a question, but she didn't know the answer. Worried, she searched the flood of black and grey. She saw a splash of boiling soup splash out in the distance.

"GET BACK, YOU FILTHY CRETINS!" Kiirion yelled as he tossed the big pot around, knocking imps out of his way, only to be replaced by other imps seconds later.

The reality of the situation was, that at every moment, there was at least three imps crawling on him; clinging and clawing his back, his arms, his legs, and as much as he slashed at them and whacked them, there was no relief from their oncoming attacks. There were always more. The ones he hurt, he didn't hurt enough.

This wasn't the kind of combat he was conditioned to or the fighting he was famliar with. He knew how to fight people, with weapons and movements that could be predicted and calculated. But the imps were small, and spindly, and there were so many and they didn't give up. As soon as they pushed and pulled his legs out from under him, he knew it was over, and he was left to his last resort. The most stupid, disingenuous, and most likely to fail plan of all.

He was going to heal them to death.

He closed his eyes, and with one focused pulse of magical energy coursing through his body, anything and everything touching and close to him felt the wave of healing magic wash over them. When he suddenly no longer felt the clinging of piercing claws hanging on his skin, he opened his eyes and saw that the formerly hideous, impish creatures had reverted to presumably their form of disguise - which included various soft looking, innocent woodland animals.

A baby bunny hopped on his chest, and for a second, both him and the imps paused in total confusion as him and the bunny made eye contact. Then the bunny shifted back into an imp.

A vicious snarl rumbled over the screeching of imps as Savitri plunged into the fray and slowly worked her way to Kiirion, getting slashed and bitten but leaving a trail of dead imps behind her, all the way until all of a sudden she was standing before an audience of tiny bunnies, finches, squirrels, and other delightful little creatures. They turned towards her, blinking innocently.

Kiirion, covered in scratches and bleeding claw marks, sat amongst them, viciously grabbing a baby deer and breaking its legs. "KILL THEM, THEY'RE BLOODY IMPS!" he shouted.

Savitri was momentarily horrified and dumbfounded until she saw one of the skunks begin to morph. Clawing off a winged imp that had sunk its teeth into her tail, she whirled around and attacked every innocent little creature in sight. Better this than let them morph back, but still... Even for a wolf, it was a test against her values to so ruthlessly destroy so many of nature's creatures. Her mind knew what they really were, but it wasn't until she could see the dark gray skin swallowing the woodland creature's fur that she didn't feel awful tearing it to shreds.

She was so busy destroying everything in sight that she didn't immediately notice that Thorik had arrived and was there at her side, wielding his battle axe. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see Melvix and Sagaree as well.

With the others arrived, and the imp's numbers finally began to dwindle, the skirmish was quickly won, with nothing more than minor damage to the latest arrivals. Ésmaril and Willow bore their share of scratches, but their armor suited well to defend against the imp's claws. It was Kiirion and Savitri who suffered the worst of it, being caught in the throng of imp activity.

Thorik crushed the last imp with his axe, cutting off its life and ending its dreadful wail.

Savitri let out a heavy sigh. She was exhausted. And bloody. So this was what it was like to be a warrior. To expend all your energy on destroying and killing, for the sake of your own life. She felt blood trickling down her front leg, and sat down to lick it, feeling sorry for herself. Her first real, true battle had taken place without her family fighting alongside her, and here she was, aching and bleeding, alone.

"Kiirion. You look awful," Willow said.

Savitri stopped licking herself, suddenly feeling ashamed of herself for not checking up on the elf first. He was obviously the worst off. She didn't look over right away because she didn't want the others knowing that she hadn't really thought of him until Willow had said something.

"Let me heal all of you first," Kiirion said. "Please. Then I'll get to myself."

"I don't think—" Melvix began.

"Trust me. It's easier this way."

Savitri slowly turned around to get a good look at him, and a good sniff. Indeed, he appeared to have beat her in the blood loss department.

"You first, Savitri," Kiirion said, gesturing to her.

"Are... are you sure?" When he nodded, she walked over.

"Thanks for helping me destroy all those evil bunnies and baby deer," he said. "They didn't stand a chance against you."

"You weren't bad yourself, elf."

She bowed her head before his healing hand. Then, just as the excitement had rippled through her veins before the battle, she shivered as every inch of her body was washed with soothing magic.

She stumbled backwards and collapsed in the dirt. She looked down at her paws and watched in awe as the fur and skin slowly fused again over the wounds.

Kiirion was clearly already weaker, holding his head in his hands. But he gestured for the others, and gradually, after much protest from everyone, he had graced them all with his power. All except himself.

With a trembling hand, Kiirion took out his medical belt and set about patching himself up. Willow tried to help, and Savitri wished she had hands so that she could help too. She was feeling especially worthless and selfish.

"Our first battle," Ésmaril said. "As a group."

"I think we should've stuck together to begin with," Thorik said.

Savitri shot him a look, but otherwise there was no response, even from Kiirion, since everyone was just too tired.

"We'll save the talking for later," the elf said. "After I stop dripping blood like a raincloud."
John 14:27:
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled
and do not be afraid.





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Lael says...



Ésmaril Jumara of Agmarion

cowritten with @soundofmind


Ésmaril looked at the other elf with concern. "Here, Kiirion, you can lean on me. We should move you over by that tree." She put her bow away and approached him, gently putting her arm around him to help him up.

Kiirion reached up to use her as balance, releasing a quiet his of pain as he got to his feet. "Fine," he muttered.

The rest of the group dispersed. Thorik began to pace the perimeter of their campsite, possibly guarding the area. Melvix sat nearby, not saying anything but looking on, while Willow and Sagaree began to pick up the pot and other things that had been knocked down in the fight.

Savitri looked like she didn't quite know what to do with herself, but Melvix called her over then, and they began to speak in hushed tones.

Ésmaril leaned down to let Kiirion sit down with his back to the tree. "Here. Do you need anything else?"

"My dignity?"

Ésmaril raised an eyebrow as she met his gaze. "Really now. You were quite heroic."

"I threw soup at an imp," Kiirion retorted, followed by a sigh. "But thank you."

She laughed quietly, but said, "Take care of yourself. It wouldn't be good if our leader is out of commission."

Kiirion nodded wearily as his gaze swept over the others. "No. It would not."

Ésmaril thought briefly. "We actually need to discuss where we're going next, and how long we're going to stay here." She picked up a stick and began to sketch a rough map of the Telyan continent. "If I'm not mistaken, we're here right now." She marked a small X. "And the Border is over here." She poked at the area quite forcefully. "From what I see, the fastest way to get closer to it is to travel through Mrawi."

Kiiron looked down, watching her draw in the earth. "That's true that it is the fastest way to the border, but it is also more dangerous." He pointed at the dirt map, drawing a line with his finger. "But if we go through Saemaro, it'll be safer, and in my current state, I very much prefer the latter."

"Oh, you're right," Ésmaril replied, a little embarrassed that she had forgotten how injured he was that quickly. "But it's just that we don't know how much time we have left. Until . . ." She trailed off.

Kiirion sighed. "Yes. I understand we're operating on a ticking clock. But if we can avoid unecessary risks-"

Savitri came up beside them, looking down at the map. "Are we going through Mrawi?"

"No. Saemaro is safer," Kiirion said quickly.

Melvix also stepped over and peered at the drawing. "Though Mrawi appears to be the quickest route."

"We're not sure what would be the best option," said Ésmaril, before anyone could start a potential argument. "Mrawi is fast but probably more dangerous, since the land is mostly untamed and the Cat People are quite withdrawn, normally. Also, Kiirion is injured. His wounds could be made worse if we travel too quickly."

"I think going through Mrawi is still the best option," Savitri said, her eyes brightening a little. "All I want is to get back to Aro as soon as possible." There was a hint of guilt on her face, but her expression was otherwise resolute.

Kiirion started to say something but stopped before he formed a word. His mouth clamped shut into a straight line and his eyes jumped between the three. "Fine," he said sharply. "I will not postpone saving the world for a few flesh wounds. We'll go through Mrawi, and we'll be on guard."

"Hold on," said Ésmaril gently. "We have to ask the others as well. They might disagree." She stood and called to Willow and Sagaree, and, a little grudgingly, to Thorik as well. After they came over, she asked, "Would you rather we traveled through Saemaro or Mrawi next? Saemaro being the safer option and Mrawi being the fastest one."

"Mrawi, of course," said Thorik immediately. He straightened and put his axe on his shoulder. "We can handle a little danger."

"I agree." Willow nodded. "The faster we get to the Border, the faster we can try to handle this mess."

Kiirion slowly looked over to Sagaree making eye contact with the man who'd remained silent while the others gave their opinions. Saemaro was Sagaree's homeland. Surely he would vote for that.

Sagaree met Kiirion's eyes but then looked down at the map. "Mrawi would probably be our best choice. We can't afford to tarry."

The small light of hope in Kiirion's eyes died. "Then Mrawi it is."

Ésmaril glanced at him sympathetically. "Also, since we are staying in this area for the night, we should sleep in shifts, in case more creatures try to attack us. I can take first watch."

Kiirion nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you. And yes, we should all get some rest."

***

The evening quickly grew dark, and the only source of light was the small, flickering fire in the center of the camp. Ésmaril sat by herself, listening to the quiet sounds of the wilderness. So far, it seemed that all was peaceful.

Everyone else had long since falled asleep. She wasn't surprised, as they had already fought a hard battle earlier. Weariness was settling into her muscles as well.

A sound of someone stirring caught her attention, and she turned to look in the direction of where Kiirion was sleeping. To her surprise, he seemed to be awake and trying to sit up.

She stood and crouched beside him. "Having trouble sleeping?" She held onto him and pulled him up to a sitting position.

"Naturally," he groaned, keeping his voice low. "I'll have aquired more scars in one day than I have in my lifetime."

"Well, you can stay up with me for a while if you'd like," said Ésmaril, sitting down next to him and crossing her legs. "I was wondering, what's it like having the power to heal others with just your hands?"

Kiirion raised a brow as he looked over at her. "It's as much a burden as it is a gift."

"What do you mean?"

Kiirion's gaze turned away and he looked out into the forest. "Imagine that from an early age, you learn that you can heal anyone, and everyone if they come to you. The amount of hope that brings of behalf of others, that perhaps, because of one elf, pain - or at least, prolonged, lasting pain - can be something of the past. You are the miracle that people have been hoping for. You're no longer a person. You're a service. You're a solution. And your life becomes what you do instead of who you are. It is... a burden I do not mind shouldering, but there are few people who look at me past my hands. And if they do..." his eyes landed on Savitri. "They don't seem to like what they see."

Ésmaril was at a loss for words. "Ah . . ." She felt that she could identify with that, almost, with having expectations of being the best warrior of Agmarion ever since she showed signs of promise as a very young elf. But that was different, she supposed, than being someone who could have the ability to end others' suffering. "That sounds pretty tough." She generally didn't dwell on feelings like these.

"That said," Kiirion continued, looking at Ésmaril through the corner of his eye. "There is a certain level of exhiliration at seeing someone's wounds disappear before your eyes. Or there was, for the first few hundred years. Now it's just normal."

Wasn't it strange, knowing that you used to love doing something but now you didn't really? Ésmaril let the thought go through her mind briefly, but philosophical topics often gave her a headache. She cleared her throat. "What do you think of the others? In the 'Fellowship', I mean."

"They've proved themselves capable fighters," he admitted. "But we are lacking in unity. That is something I can only hope we grow in in time, even though our time is limited."

She wanted to talk about how she didn't care much for Thorik, but after she glanced over at everyone else's sleeping forms, she decided it was best not to risk it. "You're right. We started quite messily, didn't we? I only hope that we can get our job done as soon as possible, before Telya is greatly ravaged by them."

Ésmaril didn't even have the slightest idea how they were supposed to banish Gaurem and the Slyrinik back to the Otherworld, but she figured they would do it somehow.

"That is the hope," Kiirion said quietly.
"And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Philippians 4:7





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soundofmind says...



Kiirion Ayair Faelar


If the fate of the world wasn't in the balance, Kiirion would've dipped out ages ago. He would've left that meeting in Ranning and - no, there never would've been a meeting. Why did they have to call the finest of each people group together? What did it matter that they were heirs to the group who'd defeated the Slyrinik thousands of years ago? It would've been easier to work with an elite force of elves than a hodge-podge group of strangers pulled together at the last minute.

And after a week of traveling with them, he felt like he was going to go insane. It was as if every little thing he decided was contested. Did no one trust his judgment? Were his hundreds of years of life experience nothing to them?

It was insulting.

That, and he still had yet to heal entirely after getting mauled by the little gremlin-like imps. Most of the surface-level scratches had already scabbed over and left little scars, but the deeper cuts from their claws were still tender under the stitches and bandaging.

Fortunately, their trip had gone without much trouble, despite them taking the risk of going the faster, instead of the safer route. They were less than a day out from the Mrawi, and he could feel a mix of relief and dread stewing inside of him.

On the one hand, it would mean they'd cease their traveling. On the other, it meant talking to more wolves... and if all of them were as insufferable as Savitri, he didn't know if he could endure it.

With half of their day gone, the group slowed to a stop in the forest to rest the horses by a gurgling stream. The sun hung high in the sky and beat down on them through the spotty cover of the trees above them. Humidity hung in the air and clung to their skin like a wet blanket, and everyone was feeling sticky. Kiirion hopped off his mount with a grimace and watched as the others followed suit. His gaze landed on Thorik with mild amusement as the small dwarf's feet thumped on the forest floor as he dismounted from his griffin companion. He'd seen many dwarves, but it never failed to amaze him just how small they were. If he were only a doctor and didn't have the magic he did, it would make any kind of surgery alarmingly more complicated.

As he led his horse to water, he heard the voice of Savitri.

"We shouldn't stop for too long," she advised. "We're very close. I can smell it. I want to make it there before sundown."

As Kiirion turned around to respond, he could feel the tension rise in the air among the others in the group. It was a sensation that had grown alarmingly familiar any time someone spoke to him. It was as if everyone held their breaths in anticipation of his reply - expecting it to be some volatile, controversial answer. It made his insides twist in knots.

He gave Savitri a blank-faced look and sighed. "And we will make it there," he assured her. "In due time. Our mounts just need time to rest. We don't want to wear them thin."

Savitri wrinkled her nose slightly at his answer. "I still don't see why you all can't walk on your own two feet," she muttered.

Kiirion raised his eyebrows and pet the muzzle of his steed. "Horses are not the same as our kind. They are animals."

"Your abuse of these creatures is another matter entirely," Savitri huffed. "I was only wondering why you must go through all the hassle to ride them in the first place."

Kiirion was about to open his mouth to reply, but Melvix answered before him.

"I cannot speak for the elves or dwarves, but as humans, we've often used different types of animal companions to assist in accomplishing tasks that would otherwise be very difficult to do efficiently. Horses help take us farther, faster. Oxen help carry and transport goods. And on farms, animals like cows and chickens or pigs... are sources of food in different ways," Melvix explained. It was clear that he was trying to explain it matter-of-factly, but Kiirion couldn't help but roll his eyes.

Savitri flicked her tail. "Well. I guess that makes sense. You already travel so slowly on horses that without their utter benevolence and assistance, we'd still be in Ranning."

Melvix made a small noise, as if at a loss for words. Kiirion swooped in with a sigh.

"We're all built differently," he said carefully, though there was a slight edge to his words. "You wouldn't expect Thorik to win in a foot-race against Esmaril, would you? Some of us need assistance. There is no shame in that."

"Hey-" Thorik interjected.

"I'm not wrong, am I?" Kiirion retorted.

"That was rude," Sagaree said quietly in disapproval.

"A low blow," Willow added, before slapping a hand over he mouth after realizing her unintentional pun. "Oh my gosh - Thorik - wait, I-"

Kiirion couldn't help it. He was grinning. To his surprise, Thorik was as well, and then the dwarf laughed. Thorik reached up high to pat Willow on the back.

"Even I can't help but laugh at that one," he said, relieving some of the tension in the air. And to Kiirion's surprise, Willow laughed too, and then Melvix, Sagaree, and Ésmaril started to laugh as well.

Savitri, meanwhile, was sniffing the air.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


The young wolves followed the trail excitedly, their eyes flashing, teeth gleaming, tongues lolling. The peculiar scents that lingered in the air were easy to pursue.

"I think that's horse I'm smelling!" one of them yipped.

"Horse?" another asked. "When did you ever get the chance to smell horse?"

"When I—" the wolf stopped speaking, her nose twitching as she picked up a whiff of something else. "Did you catch that? Was that—?"

"A wolf! Who is it?"

The small group of wolves slowed to a trot, sniffing the ground carefully, trying to locate a familiar scent. Their curiosity piqued when they couldn't identify the wolf, they galloped forward, but this time with caution.

"We're supposed to be home soon," the youngest wolf reminded them from behind, an edge of apprehension in his voice.

The leader cast a dark glance backward. "You don't get anywhere in this pack by staying at home. You're lucky we let you come along."

"You said it was going to be a rabbit hunt..."

"Suit yourself. Go catch a rabbit."

The youngest wolf lowered his head and quickened his pace to keep up. As the trail became more and more fresh, he picked up on new peculiar scents that only made him more uneasy.

Sensing that they were close, the wolves slowed to a walk, their bellies low to the ground, their ears swiveling toward every snapping twig and rustling branch in the forest. The youngest wolf thought that this must be what a real, grown-up hunt was like—except that typically the hunters could identify their prey without a moment's hesitation, and knew exactly what to expect. And had decades of experience on their paws.

Soon enough, they heard voices, most unmistakenly the growl of a wolf, but also many others. The youngest wolf feared that a whole army of strange creatures was just behind the line of trees, and maybe the wolf had been trapped and was being held captive. Whoever it was, the tone of their voice didn't sound too happy.

The wolves jumped when they heard someone laugh. In another minute the group was in view, and the youngest wolf couldn't believe his eyes when he saw who the wolf was.

He'd never seen her in person, let alone smelled her, but the gold flakes on her back, as well as her alpha poise and golden leaf crown, marked her unmistakenly as—

"Queen Savitri!" a wolf whispered.

"They've captured her!" another one hissed.

"Look! They're laughing at her! Mocking her!"

"We have to do something!"

The lead wolf's chest rumbled like thunder. "For Aro," she growled.

Suddenly, the wolves launched themselves towards the queen and her captives, and the youngest wolf, momentarily paralyzed with surprise, stumbled down the slope after them.

⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗ ⬖ ⬗


The laughter died like a flame blown out in the wind. As soon as the young wolves came bounding down the slope and out of the thick of the forest, they were on their guard. Instinctively, Willow and Ésmaril drew their weapons, but Kiirion held up a hand, cautioning them to action. The wolves were darting straight for their leader Savitri, and though Thorik stepped in to stand between her and the young wolves, they began to herd Savitri away from their group and growled and bit at both them and their horses.

Confused, the group exchanged glances before hurrying after the group of wolves.

It didn't take long for the five of them to surround the group on every side - moving swiftly through the forest and pointing their weapons to keep the wolves from fleeing again. Kiirion stepped forward in hopes of appealing to them.

"Look, whatever it is you think you're doing, I'm sure there some misun-"

"You can't have her!" one of the young wolves interrupted.

"Yeah! And don't worry Queen, they're not gonna get you again!" another barked.

"Wait, what?" Willow shouted from the other side of the circle, stepping forward, only to be met with a wolf leaping up at her. She easily blocked them and pushed them off with her shield. "She's no captive. She's with us on a mission."

The young wolves circled around their queen, facing out at the others with aggression. Savitri looked equally confused and surprised at their sudden appearance.

"Oh yeah? If she's on a mission why were you guys laughing at her, huh?" one of the young wolves retorted. "Mocking her!"

"Yeah! And the elf!" another called out, pointing accusingly at Kiirion with his snout. "He wasn't talking to you with respect!"

Savitri stepped forward calmly, and the young wolves hesitantly gave way - their ears lowering.

"Queen?" the lead wolf of the group asked, with her voice faltering.

Savitri looked at her. "You are right. There was no respect. But alas, he is my ally, and..."

Kiirion stared as Savitri's face seemed to go blank, as if fishing for something to say in his defense.

"He's... uh... he, uh..." she continued to stumble along.

Kiirion sighed. "Don't hurt yourself," he muttered, sarcasm lacing his tone.

Savitri turned her head towards him. "Well if I do, you can just heal me," she replied harshly.

Kiirion blinked. Was that supposed to be a comeback? "I... guess so," he said with hesitance - for once, at a loss for words to reply.

Savitri held her head up proudly and nodded. "See?" she said, looking around to the younger wolves. "I'm right."

With that declaration, the younger wolf's ears perked up slightly and lifted up a cheer.

From outside the circle, Willow wore a face full of confusion.

"What even is going on?" she asked, bewildered.

Ésmaril finally lowered her bow and shook her head. "I have no idea," she answered.

"This feels... surreal," Kiirion added as a whisper, more to himself.

Sagaree was the one to break the confusion with a clearing of his throat. "So, are we done now then? We have not captured your queen. She is a willing traveler among our group."

Savitri echoed in agreement. "Yes, young wolves. Your intentions were pure, and I appreciate your bravery. But it seems this is all one big misunderstanding."

The wolves started to back away and bowed their heads and ears with their tails tucked between their legs.

"Yes, queen," their lead wolf replied meekly. "We're sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Savitri replied.

The lead wolf nodded again with embarrassment before turning to leave.

"Come on, guys," she said, before looking back at the queen once more. "It was an honor to meet you, your highness," she said before finally hurrying off with her friends in tow.

The group watched as the young wolves bounded off into the forest, and slowly gathered together around Savitri. As they finally regrouped, they noticed that one of them was missing. Willow looked around with an alerted sort of panic.

"Wait, where's Melvix?" she asked.

It was then that they heard the soft clatter of horse-hooves on the path approaching, and saw Melvix finally catching up, holding many ropes in his hand with all of their horses in tow. Collectively, they let out a sigh of relief.

Melvix smiled at seeing Savitri safe and sound and shrugged. "Someone had to stay back with all of the animals and supplies."

Ésmaril walked over and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "That was wise. Thank you," she said sincerely.

"So... what was that all about?" Melvix asked.

Kiirion and Savitri met eyes, and after a brief, awkward silence, Kiirion chose to answer for her.

"Just a misunderstanding."
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.









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— alliyah