Out of the Kettle... Chyril 27th [late ET - open!]

[Muraco]

The bonfire was lit in the center of Valley Village. A crackling flame curled in the pit and Muraco compared it to a caged beast in his head. Such power and ferocity but it could not spread farther than the confines it was shackled with. A feeling bordering pity touched his thoughts then for the flame. It would consume and die, never reaching its full potential. What Gannas had said rang in his head again, "expand the circle you run in"...it was a perfect example, the fire, of something that was quenched because its 'circle' was not large enough.

On one of the logs he had folded his tall frame up on the middle of it. His elbows were set on his knees and his fingers were laced, tapping his knuckles intermittently as he stared at the heart of the blaze. The scarf he had around his head, concealing his hair was making a slow journey down until it fell about his neck. The Kanthrop did not even notice as it half obscured his mouth. So intent was his gaze and the thoughts tumbling about his head, someone could have sat next to Muraco and he would not have noticed for a few flickers. His sleep deprived mind conjured the thought of the fire looking back at him. He imagined the look colored with a brand of pity, for at least it was living fiercely and with purpose. Grumbling under his breath, Muraco tried to stop this train of thought…it was irritating to consider.

The Kanthrop turned sideways and stretched out on the log, looking to the sky. Afterimages of the fire he had so intently been staring at swam before his eyes for a burn or so before the night sky revealed itself. It was a deep and fathomless blue, impossibly huge and cool…almost calming and a sedative of the kind he could accept. The twinkling of stars dusted this sky like crushed glass. Why did the intruders come? What did they want? Even this lost its importance with the information that Scarlet and Xenovia had returned to the village with.

The two had been badly injured by Cryers but had brought something to Valley Village whose worth could not be calculated. A bow, shiny...of that Scarlet had assured them all, that had been said could harm, even kill Cryers. Why did it have to be a bow? Could it not be a knife? Maybe a spear? Those Muraco could use, not a blasted bow. Even so, one weapon wouldn't be enough to end the threat. Muraco folded his hands under his head and closed his eyes for a flicker. He began to hum, a relatively tuneless little thing but of good tone as he let his tightly wound thoughts unravel. The young Kanthrop's overcharged emotions that ruled the earlier part of the day were absent, just the crackling wood in the fire, breeze and quiet remained then.

His thoughts went to the events of the day, the talk with Kytani and Gannas and two women arrival. Muraco's heart swelled with their bravery and the fact that they had lived. Xenovia had achieved her first warp, had been involved in much of the events in the village lately. She and Niamh had been the first to see the humans. The bird Kanthrop had a severe look, pale skin and contrasting locks of hair. Then there were her strikingly golden eyes. Her unconventional appearance gave Muraco a feeling of camaraderie with her that was almost assuredly one sided. She was cold and unreadable, a loner by most estimations. The young wolf's respect for her skills was readily apparent, he could learn much from her but the operative concept of this was 'could'. Would Xenovia teach him how to hear his inner animal? Muraco could not remember Xen saying more than a few words in a row. She would likely look at him like he was a Cryer and walk off. This made him smile and bite back a laugh.

Scarlet was another creature, both in literal and figurative terms. She was passionate, intelligent, challenging. All of these things were appealing traits to Muraco for he had a few of them himself. Even so, she was like a storm wrapped in a kanthar and her mood was just as hard to pin down. Still, it was another thing he liked about her. If one was not going to live fiercely, what was the point? She was young; at sixteen yahren she was too young to warp, or so Muraco thought. Being a land based Kanthrop they were, he, Kytani and Scarlet had been taught together. The wolf enjoyed her presence and the two got along relatively well.

The panther girl was a loner in the vein of Xen but easier to approach. Muraco had not spoken with her intimately until this morningtide but it was good to find that they shared similar outlooks on things. As far as he could tell, they would be fast friends as long as they did not step over the bounds one another had. He cringed at the thought of arguing with the girl. Gannas had to scold them while they were speculating on village affairs, that said something. Kytani was strong willed, independent...it didn't seem like she needed anyone. Muraco wanted friends like that.

For the time being, he was alone but only time would tell if that would change.

[Xenovia Canace]

Xenovia had been awake for just under two marks. Despite the fact that there were questions to be asked, she had requested that they be saved for the following morning tide. She was in no mood to be interrogated by the Kanthan this late in the evening, especially after such an ordeal. Hopefully, they would respect that. But despite the fact that she'd had little sleep and immense amounts of stress for the past few days, Xenovia refused to stay down. She was bad at sleeping for a long time.

And anyway, her memory was a little fuzzy...

Procuring a kanthar was the first thing she set about doing. Despite no need for modesty amongst Kanthrop, Xenovia was not the type to go parading about naked. That was something you did only if you were overly confident. Or, you know, Oni. At least, that was her opinion. With the Bane still gripped tightly in her left hand and a scroll in her right, Xenovia snuck around camp until she found a spare kanthar, trying to avoid eyes and questions as much as possible. As she retied her purple famirl about the wrapping, Xenovia heard something fall to the ground, and looked down to see a thin piece of rock at her feet. Her knees bent slowly, golden eyes narrowing as she sought the perpetrator whom had dared to throw such a thing at her. Yet none seemed to be present... With a soft 'hm,' Xenovia picked the rock up and examined it briefly. Then, her interest lost, she stood again and strode off.

Her hair was a mess. Really a mess. At all times it was a wonder to behold, but with the addition of dried blood, dirt, and a miniature garden from two days' wandering and hiding in the forest, it was nigh upon frightening. So it was water that Xenovia sought next, tending to her wild mane until she was no longer worried that the sight of it would make the younger kit cry. All of this was done slowly, and carefully. Her body was aching, her back once again on fire. Oh, to have wings again, to stretch them upward and fly into the night sky...

If only the night sky were safe.

Several times now she had nearly died at the hands -- claws? -- of the Cryers. She was tired of fainting, of bleeding, of pain. She was tired of being tired. All she wanted was to have some time to herself, to stare listlessly into a fire and --

Ooh, fire. Well, there was one right there. A nice big one, too. Approaching from the side opposite where Muraco crouched, Xenovia couldn't see his seated form behind the miniature wall of flame. At least, not until she practically stepped out from behind it, her tall, deathly pale frame freezing almost immediately as her golden eyes landed on that white hair. Unmistakable. Bow and scroll still in hand, Xenovia simply looked at him, saying nothing, as if this was her fire and he had come uninvited. As if she expected an explanation. Really, she was just tired. It seemed like ages since she'd seen Muraco.

Stupid scarf.

[Scarlet]

Rest brought no solace for Scarlet. Her healing had begun, but the torturous confines of her own mind bought nightmares and pain enough.

Quite aside from the screech of Cryers that haunted her ears, the sound of footfall on stone and the rush of breath in her lungs, she came again and again to the same place in her mind. A vast prison of her own making, the cell that had housed her primal spirit now empty, its gates rent asunder by the force of its passing. Now she was immersed in it, the beast's vast conciousness a part of her own. It's spirit and hers unified to make something new, something she could barely understand. The fear of it shook her even in her sleep. The beast had been quiet since its appearance and it had surrendered control of her form without argument. But she had never fought it's instinct before, not until that moment of change in the Skymyst mountains. Disobedience to one's own inner nature was a worrying concept for her, for one so usually attuned to the predator's instinct. It had had to be done, for both their sakes. If she had stood and fought she would have died. Perhaps her crucible had fired her differently to what she had expected. Perhaps she would not walk the same path as Culwago.

Where has your voice gone?

She startled as she woke. Her eyes snapping open in the darkness of the hut. Dull pain greeted her as her body rudely reminded her of the previous day's events. Still, revenge would be theirs in time and that thought stirred her soul. She rose painfully to her feet. The night was no time to be alone, not yet.

~~~~~~~~

"Anyone hungry?" She asked, tossing a fruit to Xenovia as she limped into the pool of light.

Her wounds were bound tightly and the muscles were stiff but she still carried a easy grace about her movements, the sureness of a predator returned to familiar soil. She smiled at Xen, noticing that at last the girl had worked some of the shit out of her hair. Scarlet began to comb out her own braids in the firelight, munching down on a hunk of bread.

[Kytani Hajgomb]

Kytani had only been halfway dozing when Scarlet rose, the typically loner kit both worried and ‘awakened’ by the state of both Xenovia and Scarlet, realizing just how safe the community had kept her all of these yahren. Not that it was a scared kind of worried, for Kytani was far too hot-headed to cower like a kitten under a blanket during a thunderstorm – instead, she was filled with pure animal anger at the Cryers. Instead, she had lain in bed and watched over Scarlet like a concerned mother, feigning sleep as to give her fellow kit some pride after the loss of dignity that being wounded could provide. Kytani knew that if the tables were turned, she would want the same respect.

’Expand your circle…’, Hawkeye had said. Real fucking easy when you have a fence made of humans, Cryers, and water… The kit let Scarlet gain a small lead out of the hut before rising, herself, throwing a kanthar around her waist in skirt fashion, but leaving the rest bared as she peered out of the hut and saw the fire’s flicker. The weather was warming and she was damned if she was going to sweat like a human.

Bare feet trod upon the earth as she followed Scarlet toward the fire, her bright eyes ever watchful in case her hut-mate decided to waver or tumble. She hoped that she and Scarlet would have the chance to talk about what had happened, but she knew beforehand that she would not pressure the poor girl or Xenovia either. Poor Muraco, however, had already shown her that his was an ear easily nibbled, so she took comfort in the fact that she did not feel so out of place among family any more. Their common limitation was also an asset, it seemed. Had she known of his frustration, she would have spoken up earlier, perhaps caught him for similar chats after lessons or some such.

If she had spoken earlier, she and Muraco would have surely been with Xenovia and Scarlet and lessened the…

And then there they were, at the fire. Fire, Kytani had decided long ago, could either bring color to cold surfaces or further disfigure them, twisting detail with the light. It was the latter in her eyes, it seemed, as she gazed at Xenovia and Scarlet, the former freshly – if not thoroughly – bathed, the fire adding depth to the lines of sleeplessness, weariness, and injury, but Kytani could not fault her for that – she dared any other to go through what the girls had gone through and come out picturesque. Scarlet was on the same par, both veterans looking a sight compared to Muraco and herself.

Still, Kytani was glad to see them both up and moving than dead and buried.

She gave a small nod to Muraco, combined with the smirk earned by their mutual ass-chewing earlier, before sitting down next to Scarlet, one leg on each side of the log, the young kit’s rump rising a little after a flicker as she wordlessly reached out to help Scarlet with her hair. The other woman could protest, of course, but it was a small effort to comfort her companion that Kytani wanted to show, especially after watching the woman toss and turn in her sleep.

She would talk in time but, for now, she ignored the bow and her own questions about it, as well as any ‘ice-breaking conversation, as she sat there silently preening. The nights on Ursa would be darker for them all from now on, she imagined.

[Muraco]

Xenovia's approach was quiet but not unnoticed. Muraco always had sharp hearing and even on his back with his eyes shut, he heard the bird warper before he saw her. He looked with one eye at her and stopped humming. The hawkish woman was looking at him as if she were sitting at the fire first and he were but a cub coming to annoy her. He almost grinned, the woman looked as if the Nether had chewed on her a bit and spit her back out. If anything she was due a sour look or two without recompense. As she continued to look without speaking, Muraco rotated his body and pulled the scarf out of his face so that he was sitting with his elbows on his knees. The tall Kanthrop looked at the scroll and bow Xen held close to her. The bow he heard of...but what was the scroll?

Scarlet came after the bird warper and Muraco smiled as she approached. The poor girl limped into the light and looked just as fatigued as her impromptu companion. What Muraco would have given to be with them. To fight alongside them, power lay in the strength of their tribe gathered. He and Kytani had been languishing in the Village while those two were fighting for their lives. They were struggling their way back alone. The woman asked if anyone was hungry and despite the emptiness of his gut, he shook his head. Scarlet could eat her fill and he would eat whatever was left. Kytani followed slowly after and took a spot next to her hutmate to fuss over her hair. He shared her glance and her smirk was telling. She was silent, moving purposefully...just like a cat. Looking over to Xen, Muraco wondered who would be able to paw through that mess. The wolf warper rued the fate of any comb that was given the task.

The young Kanthrop looked to the three women that had gathered. He was glad for the company, he had become restless in his self imposed isolation. It was a trap with no bars but one that proved hard to escape once snared.

"I am glad you are both safe," said Muraco simply. His eyes first meeting the gilded ones of the bird warper and then to Scarlet's that shared a similar hue. He nodded slowly and sat for a flicker.

"Blasted humans were to leave today and your homecoming has put many a mind at ease," Muraco shook his head before continuing, "What happened? How did they attack? Can this...?"

He looked to the bow and realized he was bombarding with questions. It was not an interrogation and he clamped his jaw shut. Taking a few flickers he made sure words would not gush if he opened his mouth again.

"You do not have to..." he said it out of courtesy but he desperately hoped that either Xen or Scarlet wished to recount the tale. Muraco knew the ferocity of a Cryer attack, the cold, malevolent aura of the beasts. It was not hard to shy away from a memory of it.

[Xenovia Canace]

Xenovia's cheeks had hollowed in the last few days, and though her gaze was as sharp as ever, there were telltale signs of weariness swimming in the depths of her halcyon eyes. She had not received many wounds during the recent battle; her enemy was fear. Stress. Her joints groaned silently at her, protesting every breath she took. Never had she realized just how important the muscles of her back truly were. At the moment, it would not be impossible to mistake her for something evil, or demonic. Luckily, she was in the midst of her kin.

The bow in her hand was unlike any other. Its wood was gray in hue, white lines running along its lengths in curling grooves. The grip and tips of the bow bore a black crystalline embellishment, the material of which glinted beautifully in the firelight. Xenovia's chin lifted almost imperceptibly when Muraco's gaze moved to the weapon, the barest sway of a strand of hair giving the movement away.

The bird warper heard Scarlet approach before she saw her. And of course, that's the way it always was. Only those with much more experience than they could sneak up on creatures with such excellent hearing. Especially when they were all so alert, so tense.. Muraco smiled, and Xenovia's head turned just so, her golden orbs sliding to the side to observe Scarlet's limp, her slightly crippled movements somehow still easy, still graceful. Xen had never seen an ungraceful Kanthrop. They simply weren't made that way. Wordlessly, Xenovia let her arm slip between the curve of the bow and its taught string, the weapon sliding down her skin as she lifted her hand to catch the fruit, long fingers wrapping around it. She gave a brief nod in thanks, taking a large bite out of its juicy flesh as she watched Scarlet take a seat. To Muraco she looked fatigued, but in Xenovia's eyes Scarlet looked much better. They had not seen them at their worst. They had not been there, huddled in the darkest crevices of the coldest rocks, listening to the Cryers howling for them. No words could express the heart-rending fear such a situation created. Xenovia almost smiled bitterly. Such morbid thoughts, Xen. You are still young. A dribble of juice ran from the corner of her dark lips before it was dispatched by a lick of her tongue.

Kytani received only a light caress from Xenovia's eyes, the creature of contrasting hues having never spoken to her much. She was aware, of course, that she shared a hut with Scarlet. As Kytani began to assist in combing through the younger girl's braids, Xen mused idly. It would take ten of you, I think, to fix this jungle. Well, at least she'd managed to tie it back again.

She continued to remain standing, not terribly inclined toward talking at the moment -- but then, was she ever? Muraco began to speak, just as she took another bite. Her stomach was snarling.

"(*crunch*) am glad (*munch, munch*) both safe."

Hm. Then came the onslaught. Xenovia's eyebrows raised slightly as the words fell from Muraco's mouth. He seemed to have sprung a leak. Yet as quickly as the brook began to babble, he seemed to find a cork. The last sentence was drowned out by a few more loud crunches, but even over the tops of the flames Xenovia could see the meaning behind his inaudible words. So, you really were worried.

For a few more long flickers Xenovia was silent, her thoughts swimming about as she tried to recall just what did happen. She remembered running, filled with anger and confusion. The stream. A hooded figure, a scaled hand. Entering the cave and then....escaping. But where she got the bow, the scroll, how they escaped -- she couldn't remember any of that.

Finally she spoke. Her tones were soft; light. Surprisingly gentle, for someone with such a sharp appearance, and a personality to match.

"What do you remember, Scarlet?"

[Scarlet]

It was a mark of Scarlet's fatigue that Kytani's presence startled her. Locked as she was within her own mind, she barely noticed her friend sit beside her and begin to untangle her braids. As it was, she smiled at the familiar tug of kytani's fingers and grinned over to her fellow kit. Some part of her was glad at the unspoken questions that Kytani must have held back, perhaps she knew this was not really the time.

"Hey you," she smiled, tugging down at a stubborn braid with her mouth full of bread.

At Muraco's babbling Scarlet smiled and let her eyes drift across the flame to meet his. So many concerns... The Humans, the Cryers, his own Warping. He was split in so many directions. Scarlet pulled out another braid and sniggered at his obvious frustration. Etiquette was an amusing thing for her, a game she was hardly aware that she played.

"What do you remember, Scarlet?"

She looked up at Xen, her expression faltering for a flicker. Xen was different. Older than the others, no longer a kit having passed her Trials. Muraco, Kytani and Scarlet were all earthbound kit, they shared classes and, in the girl's case, a hut. Xen was older, separated, and to Scarlet's eyes, more experienced. She felt a certain deferment to the bird Kanthrop, not least for her actions in the cave and at the Airship so many nights ago. She cleared her throat and shared a glance with Kytani.

"Not much to tell really," she said. Her expression was casual, but her voice carried little of the bravado she tried to conjure.
"I followed your tracks from the stream and headed into the mountains. The track lead to the high pass, I thought perhaps one of the Humans had decided to explore, so I followed. The next thing I knew..." She took a moment to gather her breath, fixing her eyes on Xenovia's.

"You were running toward me, inside the cave, with every Cryer for a solid mile on your heels. I tried to run with you, tried to protect you as you drew the bow..." She grinned and one hand moved to the bindings on her leg. "Didn't take much care of myself though."

"The arrow you loosed blew the Cryers away..." Her eyes shone at the memory, it was a difficult tale to tell. "I felt my... animal screaming in my head... I tried to get out - tried to follow you - but it wanted to fight. Fight and die. All I remember after that was light and pain and confusion. It hurt. Then... I woke up outside. Woke up... warped."

Scarlet felt a tremor of fear in her voice as she finished, and couldn't stop her eyes from flicking to Muraco.

[Kytani Hajgomb]

A pair of yellowed slits gazed out at Muraco from over Scarlet’s shoulder. As blasphemous as it was to compare her fellow kit to domesticated pets, if Kytani had a stick to throw for Muraco to fetch, she would have. As it was, she raised an eyebrow and went back to her task, playfully batting Scarlet’s hand away from the braid. “You eat..”, she whispered sweetly. “I’ve got this.” She continued working a braid loose so that the hair could be cleaned and combed as Xenovia bounced Muraco’s question to Scarlet and Scarlet answered as best she could. When she mentioned waking up warped, Kytani put her hands on Scarlet’s shoulders in an attempt to stop the shivers.

Her first time and she wasn’t in any position to enjoy it… It was almost like rape in Kytani’s eyes, missing out on that first warp or being forced to do so to survive. Still, once that metaphorical hymen was stretched or ripped, the next time would be easier and, in some ways, Kytani was jealous of her hut-mate for that reason. “I never asked…” the young panther-kit finally muttered. “Why did you two go out there in the first place…” She gave a semi-playful, semi-I’m-concerned-about-you-and-you-worried-me-half-to-death tug on Scarlet’s braid as she resumed her task. “…alone?” Finishing one braid, she started on the next, awaiting an answer.

[Muraco]

Muraco watched as Xenovia all but laid into the piece of fruit like it was her sworn enemy. It was not hard to see a bird of prey in her and the fruit the helpless fish or rabbit in her talons. He would have his awakening it was a game of waiting for chasing would do nothing but have it elude him further. The talk with Gannas had calmed some of his frustration but not all, he was still impatient. Muraco heard Xenovia's question to Scarlet and he looked at his fellow landbound kit trying to mask his eagerness. The isle cat warper began to tell the tale and the white haired young man rolled his eyes at her first few words. Nothing to tell eh? Two days worth of nothing, a set of new scars...right, nothing indeed.

Each one of her words following however took him further to the edge of his seat. When there was no more log remaining he rose and started to pace. A cave, no wonder...it was the worst place to be in Muraco's opinion especially these days. His eyes softened as she indicated her leg. By the Mother...it had to hurt the way she was limping. The bow blowing the Cryers away was something that made his face draw in contemplation as he tried to envision it. If only there were more weapons like these...there was not much time to speculate because Scarlet's next words sounded off to him like one of the Outlanders exploding hand cannons. Warped? But...but she was only sixteen yahren! He looked at her in frank amazement and was still staring when her gaze flicked to him. It was not hard to miss the tall Kanthrop as he was standing and had been slowly migrating around the flame almost subconsciously.

"Nothing?! Nothing you say!? Ha! Scarlet, you achieved your Awakening!" he exclaimed excitedly holding his hands out to his sides as if he could scarcely believe her nonchalance. He nearly jumped out of his skin and ran about. The trill of fear in her voice was not missed but it was swiftly superceded by Muraco's excitement. He rushed over to her and knelt before her placing hands on her knees. He paused and made sure Scarlet's injured leg was not disturbed.

"By the Mother you've done it! Ha ha! Culwago will be furious!" if he was sure it would have left her unharmed he would have scooped her into a hug. Muraco looked at her as if he had seen her for the first time. His sea foam colored gaze looked from an arm, to a leg, to her hair, inspecting her as if he were a shaman looking for physical injury or ailments. Looking for evidence of the change that would not be there. She did not smell different, did not have some otherworldly glow about her...she was Scarlet. He beamed a handsome smile at the woman as he searched her eyes.

"What was it like? Did it hurt? Were you afraid?" he asked, limiting his questions. Muraco was nearly fidgeting with leashed giddiness.

"I can't believe it. I cannot believe it," he said, grinning broadly as he shook his head.

[Xenovia Canace]

Xen noted the slight hesitation Scarlet offered, one of her brows arching just slightly at her. Yet she let it pass, deciding she would probably discover in time just what Scarlet thought of her. Her gaze shifted to the fire as Scarlet began to talk, the light of the flames flickering deep in the furthest recesses of her eyes. Her pupils contracted at the sudden introduction of light, her face all but consumed by the golden orbs. Through the flames, she saw Muraco roll his eyes, her teeth clenching slightly. This isn't a game you missed out on, mutt. It's not a glorious story of valiant action. We almost died and I bet all you can think about is how you wish you'd been there. Again she tore into the fruit, this time with more visible irritation. Some day, you will understand. Some rapid chewing soothed Xenovia's nerves enough for her to listen to Scarlet's tale, and she purposefully looked away from Muraco.

Scarlet spoke of protecting her, but it was Xenovia who felt a pang of guilt. Though her memory of what happened was fuzzy, she knew herself well enough to know that, had things gotten too hairy, she would have left Scarlet behind. Yet the result had been a warp, so that was good, right? It was clear, however, that Scarlet was a little shaken up by it. Xenovia too had nearly lost her life just before her warp. Hers was more peaceful, more exhilarating -- but still frightening. Xen could understand the shivers she saw darting through the young warper's muscles.

"You did well," she said rather awkwardly, half-hiding her mouth behind the fruit she had been given. She would have preferred to say this in private, rather than with four other ears listening closely. Xen shifted uncomfortably. She was about to say more, when Kytani inquired as to why they had gone alone.

"I went alone," Xenovia said sharply, her gaze moving first to Kytani and then to Scarlet. She said nothing more than that, for she could offer no explanation as to why Scarlet had gone that way as well. Xenovia had done so out of anger; a reaction to Catherine's behavior toward the intruders. It was unlikely the other kit had not heard of the incident. Xen's temper was almost legendary.

And it was rising. As Muraco began to gush like an excited little girl, Xenovia could feel her muscles growing tense. It was visible in the workings of her jaw, the way her teeth were grinding together. At least Kytani was being quiet. She had asked only one question. She was thoughtful, understanding, considerate. Muraco? Muraco was like a child asking "why" far too many times. Closing her eyes, Xen bit her cheek hard, opening them again only after she could taste blood in her mouth. Licking her lips once, Xenovia looked straight at Muraco, her soft tones sharpening suddenly.

"Contain yourself! She almost died."

Her blood was almost on my hands.

[Brytan]

"Yes, almost..."

The voice of the shaman broke the brief silence.

"But not quite. You kept each other safe in the face of a danger you could not have known anything about."

The man stepped into the light of the fire. He looked...older, tired. And Gannas Hawkeye never looked tired. "Mind if I join you children?"

[Scarlet]

"But I didn't..." Scarlet's voice crept out, a quiet whisper almost obscured by the crackle of the flames. "So it's worked out fine." Her eyes, shining in the firelight, flicked between Xen and Muraco as a smile worked it's way onto her face. A fight between these two was nothing; Xen's patience was hardly legendary and Muraco's tact was similarly famous. But for the lethargy that ached in her muscles she would have spoken louder, but she shared a grin with Kyanti and sat back. She knew her kin cared for her, Xen's sharp words and Muraco's enthusiasm idiosyncratic of their differing characters and their own way of expression. She would talk to Xenovia later perhaps, there was more of an edge to her voice than seemed usual.

The Kanthrop could be a violent people, the predatory nature of their inner animals merging with their own instincts to make a proud nation. Spats and quarrels seemed common-place to Scarlet, but the ties of blood and kinship bonded them closer than family. Had Xenovia tackled Muraco to the ground, Scarlet would have made small effort to stop them short of blood. So preoccupied was she, that she hardly noticed Gannas approach.

"Mind if I join you children?"

Scarlet almost choked on her mouthful of bread but turned to face the Shaman as he entered the circle of light.

"No, by all means Elder. Taking in the night air?" Her eyebrow raised in mock question. Something troubled the Shaman, that much was evident, and Scarlet's curiosity sparked.

[Kytani Hajgomb]

Kytani’s primary focus was removing the last braid in Scarlet’s hair, taking silent suggestion when the girl leaned back to continue along her path of soothing her fellow kit by placing her hands on Scarlet’s shoulders and beginning to knead the tense muscles. She had no training, formal or informal, in massage, and so her efforts were probably clumsy or awkward at best, but it was the effort and thought which counted, in her mind. While her hands were focused on Scarlet, her eyes stayed focused on Muraco and Xenovia, the former seeming to take more pride in the disappointment of others over the fact that something horrible had caused the warp. It had not been a choice for the girl, nor had it been willing. A small frown played upon her lips as she listened to him babble on like a schoolgirl and she was about to speak when Xenovia interjected.

Kytani looked to Xenovia for a flicker and then back to Muraco. “That’s right, Muraco – they almost died. Would you be this giddy overjoyed and aching for a story if Master Gannus’ wing was clipped by a hunter’s arrow and he had to crawl back to camp after falling…not flying…to the ground?” Her inner panther gave a warning growl after she spoke as if to punctuate the question with angry applause. “Or if Master Oni got entangled with a Cryer and barely survived? NO. And do you know why?” she asked, her fingers digging into Scarlet’s kanthar subconsciously wishing it was Muraco’s instead.

Instead of answering, she shook her head and growled once more. “I would blame neither of these ladies if they took you into a hut and showed you just how---“ And then, at once, she shushed with a frustrated sigh, both for modesty and for the fact that one of her examples had just entered the circle. “Please do…” Kytani said to the elder, echoing Scarlet’s sentiments and concerns. She looked to Gannas for a flicker and then turned her eyes to Muraco and shot him a warning look, perking one eyebrow.

Her hands relaxed a bit and she returned to the massage, wondering what was on the Kanthan’s mind.

[Muraco]

Muraco frowned as Xenovia spoke. Her sharp words were few but they were intent on trying to cut. The wolf kit could not say he did not expect a reaction like this from her. He was a bit surprised that she felt the need to remind him that Scarlet had almost died. It was something that was on the mind of every villager that eveningtide, almost assuredly. To be so intent on dwelling on such dark things, the almost death of another of their people...it simply did not make sense. Scarlet was alive, so was Xenovia...it was something to celebrate, not brood over. Or so he thought. Kytani added her voice to the bird warper's but Muraco's eyes were only on the latter. He squeezed Scarlet's knee of her uninjured leg gently and looked at her. It did not matter much what they thought, as long as Scarlet understood the intent behind his words. They were the words of congratulation from a peer, a friend...kind words that needed no reprimand. His brows knitted for a flicker and he turned and stood up turning a gaze to Xenovia. An anger he felt was righteous welled as if in response their words. Gannas approached and made his presence known before the tall kanthrop could speak. For a flicker he was nonplussed and wondered if he should respond even as he inclined his head to Gannas in greeting. He first glanced back to Kytani and rested his gaze on Xen.

"No, I will not. You say almost but there she sits, here you stand...alive. You scold me for celebrating her life, her achievement, her doing what no other Kanthrop in recent memory has done. No, Xenovia, the fact that you both nearly lost your lives in that cave is not something that I have conveniently forgotten. I would say that it is largely on my mind even as I welcome you both home and rejoice in Scarlet's first Awakening. Even so I am not going to dwell on this fact as you both seem so determined to," turning to level a gaze on Kytani, the white haired youth frowned, "and if Gannas, Oni, or any of my people came home injured as these two did, I would have the same joy in their being able to live another day with us as I would for any other. For you to both be angry with me for being happy? It is simply ridiculous. Perhaps I should have responded with a 'You warped? Well Scarlet that is horrible'. If it will please you both, I suppose I can try to become more adept at dwelling on terrible events."

Muraco would have yielded if he felt a scolding was warranted and it was a scolding he would likely receive after letting his mouth spill words in frustration. From Gannas he could accept this, it was not what he should have done but Nether take him if he would let their words pass without a reply. It was good he was not privy to Xen's opinion of him. He would have been deeply insulted at what she believed. It was not glory he wished to have gained by being with them, it was the fact that he could have fought beside them, assisted them. Muraco nearly winced as he turned to look at Gannas. It was foolish to let his irritation on the matter bubble forth in front of him. He did not know how the Elder would react, but whatever his reaction, the wolf kit tried to mentally prepare himself. For the first time Muraco could remember, however, Gannas Hawkeye looked exhausted. Even at his advanced age, the man normally had all of the energy of someone a third of his yahren. It was concerning to see, but it was also hard to express concern on the heels of his previous words. They never once raised to a shout but there was a good chance this did not matter. For that flicker, Muraco shut his mouth...it was probably the best thing he could have done.

[Xenovia Canace]

Xenovia tensed visibly when the voice of Gannas Hawkeye met her ears. In her irritation she had neither heard nor sensed his approach, and as he entered the firelight she turned her head just slightly to look at him, noting instantly how tired he looked. But it was his words that brought her a strange comfort. Yes, of course, she didn't know the danger. And she hadn't led Scarlet into the cave, she had gone in of her own volition. It wasn't her fault. But still...

Suddenly her attention was diverted as Muraco suffered from another bout of verbal dysentery. As her glittering orbs shifted their gaze back to him, one eyebrow lifted slightly. The half-lidded look she gave him suggested both mild irritation and a complete lack of amusement, as if he were telling her an invigorating story about spending five marks watching a snail crawl across a rock. Had her physical response been any more dry, the nearby flames would have caught onto her skin. As it were, she remained silent until he was done. Suddenly her anger had been replaced by little more than annoyance.

"Are you done?" The words were level and soft, that eyebrow lifting further, though it was clear the question was rhetorical. She continued on, her gaze lifting skyward as she slowly shifted the scroll to her other hand and rubbed her aching shoulder wearily. "You misjudge me, Muraco. I am unhappy with you because right now you make the Cryers seem peaceful, and they have been howling in my ears for many moons now. Scarlet is tired, and recovering from serious wounds. I--" Xenovia paused. If there was one thing she didn't want, it was their pity. "Just try to hold your tongue a bit more, alright? Until the morning tide at least, if that isn't too much to ask."

Usually a woman of very few words, Xenovia had said quite a mouthful. Of course, it was nothing compared to Muraco's landslide, but it was much more than she had wanted to say that evening. Hoping that for once Muraco would just swallow his words, Xen turned her attention back to Gannas, her chin lowering once more. To him she showed obvious respect, her head tilting slightly in a birdlike manner.

"You are weary, Elder. I hope we have not troubled you greatly."

[Brytan]

As Gannas sat down, the kanthrop around the fire noted he was carrying a leather tube, embroidered with colourful figures of animals and plants. The embroidery was rather faded, but stood out against the light of the fire which blazed in their midst.

He smiled.

"It could never be you that trouble me Xenovia. You children are the future of our tribe. It brightens my heart to feel such pride and concern in your voices, yet the reason saddens me slightly."

He pulled out a pipe, one the shaman smoked during the eveningtide around the elder fire. Yet this eveningtide he chose to smoke with the kit. Kanthrop who walked around the fires that were lit within the village walls saw the shaman sitting there, amidst the arguing kit, and wondered what was going on.

A cry erupted from the forest, sending chills down many a spine. It was swiftly followed by other cries. They seemed...closer than before.

"You brought with you two items, two you could not have had before. One of them was a piece of paper. Can I see it?"

[Scarlet]

She felt her heartbeat quicken at the forest's cries. Two days hiding in the shadows from the threat of shadow itself required a certain paranoia and Kytani felt Scarlet's shoulders stiffen. Still, within the fires of the village she was safe and the Bane sat so inert on the dusty floor was a weapon unlike any the Kanthrop had seen before.

For now, however, she stayed silent at Gannas's words and merely watched to see Xen's reaction. She could still clearly hear Xen asking the guards to guard the scroll and the bow as she passed out at the village gates. Scarlet, who had been absent from the events deep in the mountain was as curious as any about the scroll and the bow, for Xen had said precious little on their journey home. Perhaps now there would at last be some answers to the questions no one had asked. Well, no one except Muraco.

[Kytani Hajgomb]

“…and if Gannas, Oni, or any of my people came home injured as these two did, I would have the same joy in their being able to live another day with us as I would for any other. For you to both be angry with me for being happy? It is simply ridiculous. Perhaps I should have responded with a 'You warped? Well Scarlet that is horrible'. If it will please you both, I suppose I can try to become more adept at dwelling on terrible events."

Kytani released Scarlet’s shoulders and slid from the log, taking a small loop away from the fire as to allow Master Gannas, Scarlet, and Xenovia to converse, bringing herself closer to Muraco so that she could finish her thoughts with him before turning her attentions to the others once more.

“It is not what you said…”, she said in a near-whisper, placing her palm on his chest, near his shoulder, letting him know (hopefully) that she meant him no harm if her soft tone did not already give that message. “It was how you said it – it sounded as if you took joy in the fact that they were injured just so that you could hear an exciting story.” The young Kanthrop gave a small shrug and tried for a hopeful smile. “Remember this morningtide, Muraco? I do. I know that we are both aching to bare our teeth in one form or another… that all study and no play make both of us go nearly mad… but our time will come… I can smell it in the air…” Kytani gave a small sigh and ventured a friendly hug on his arm.

“What they went though, we can only imagine and Scarlet lay tossing and turning because of it.” She looked Muraco deeply in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Merrily wanting them to re-live those fears might not help them heal…it may only worsen the problem, okay?” Without awaiting a reply, she gave another squeeze and passed him a wink. “I’ve said my peace and will let it go now…” she finished, releasing his arm and turning to face her fellow kit, noting both the curious bystanders as well as the cries of the not-as-distant-as-before Cryers. Their noise sent chills up her spine, yes, but also set a thought into her mind – a question that she would have to ask one of the Kanthan about in private.

[Muraco]

Muraco was nonplussed and because he was wound up by her scolding, the kit completely missed the meaning in her words. In his mind Xenovia had removed all doubt that she was not in the possession of any sense. Muraco had a sneaking suspicion the woman had a problem with her ears as well. Nothing in his words had alluded to the fact that Cryers were cuddly, diplomatic beasts. In fact he had said nothing of them at all, so the wolf kit wondered what she had in fact heard. If he had been actually listening he would have realized that Xenovia was referring to his constant babbling and not the content of his words. Were they having the same conversation? It was obvious they were not. To Muraco it was like speaking to a stone, an ill tempered, sharp toned one but a rock nonetheless. It was altogether tragic that he was the one being dense and the one that had a right to be frustrated was indeed Xen.

She was being misunderstood; by Muraco and it seemed he was not able to shift his mind to understand that she was weary of his howling as much as she was the Cryers. The white haired kit felt he was being misinterpreted as well, and in truth he was but a much lesser degree. The difference between the he and Xen was the willingness to communicate. Muraco was all too willing to talk endlessly, Xenovia was not willing at all and they both would not likely be able to convince the other of anything. The tall Kanthrop was standing and mulling this over when Kytani approached. Thankfully he had spent this time thinking rather than putting his foot firmly in his own mouth. With Muraco’s train of thought the panther warper's words almost answered the questions he had without him vocalizing them. He looked at Xenovia...

If that is what you meant, woman, then why not say it? I sure as the Nether did not mean to make anyone think I was taking any joy in your injuries. But...how? Bah, forget it.

Had he been more in tune with his inner workings he may have realized that in a subconscious way he was trying to get their minds off of the attack. If Xenovia and Kytani knew him better, they may have realized this fact as well but even he was unaware of the underlying motivation of his words. Muraco did remember the morningtide, yet the difference between then and this eveningtide seemed yahren long. He gave a grim smile as she hugged his arm and simply stood for the gesture, being in too awkward a position to reciprocate. Kytani’s words acted as a bucket of water on whatever anger he may have had. Fizzled out, quenched, Muraco followed the shorter panther warper’s gaze as she watched their fellow kit with Gannas. The shrieks of the Cryers were the same as always to Muraco but their closeness made him shiver despite himself. Even with the chilling serenade, he was still curious when Gannas referred to a piece of paper that Xenovia had. He looked expectantly at the bird warper and waited for her to react.

[Xenovia Canace]

Muraco had finally grown silent, and Xenovia was grateful. As Gannas spoke of the future of the tribe, her eyes strayed back toward the fire. Our future.. It was only a few days ago that she had been worrying terribly about the future of the Kanthrop. Their island had been discovered by the outside world, and that was just one more threat to consider.

It was then that a cry reached her ears; one that was quite well-known to her. Xenovia was perhaps one of the few in the village that did not shiver. She'd had more than her share of run-ins with the Cryers already, and nearly died several times at their claws. They were almost familiar to her now -- more like old enemies than anything else. Not only that, but she was suddenly distracted, her eyes glazing slightly as she looked into the fire.

A bright light, fire all around, and something shifts in the darkness...

Sub-consciously, Xenovia quickly looked up toward something unseen, in the same way she had looked toward the Cryer in the cave. Yet as soon as she grasped at the wisp of memory it was gone, and she found herself staring up only at the stars. For a few long flickers she searched them, trying to will herself to remember, the angular features of her face illuminated by the fire. By the glimmer in her eyes, it was clear she was searching for something, but not what. Was it weariness that had made her forget what happened in the cave? Was it trauma? It's annoying, whatever it is.. Inwardly she ruffled her feathers, her gaze finally dropping from the sky. It was only then that she realized Gannas had spoken to her again.

"Eh? Oh, yes. Of course." Shaking her head slightly as if to straighten out her thoughts (and perhaps reaffirming Muraco's suspicions that she was quite out of her mind), Xenovia held the scroll out to Gannas, loosely grasped in long, spindly fingers. While still trying to be polite, Xen peered curiously at it, as she had not yet opened it and was oblivious as to its writings. Despite the fact that she couldn't read, perhaps it would help her to remember somehow.

[Brytan]

The shaman took the scroll from Xenovia and held it in his hand, weighing it, looking at it. He drew more smoke from his pipe, laid down the scroll and breathed out a small cloud which smelled of herbs and tobacco freshly dried.

"I can not believe you found this. It has been lost for...a long time."

He opened the scroll and looked at the letters on the parchment. Those within visual range of the words would see that there was quite a large amount of scribblings on the paper, written in a deep black ink that didn't same at all faded despite the obvious age of the paper it was written on, the sheet torn at the upper end. Though the words meant nothing to the Kanthrop, to the shaman they appeared to mean something at least as his fingers passed over several lines of text as he drew more smoke from his pipe for a few long burns.

"It is indeed what I thought it was...amazing...This..."

He looked up at the young kanthrop around him, closing the scroll shortly after.

"I apologise young ones. I should explain what it is you have brought to our village before getting lost in the memories of an old man."

"Gannas is going to tell a story!"

"Come listen!"

"Hawkeye is speaking at the fire!"

Word of Gannas' involvement with the kit's adventures spread like wildfire and soon the circle around the fire had to be widened as more kanthrop stepped in to listen to the tale Gannas was obviously preparing for. Though he usually kept his skills for ceremonies and rituals, the older kanthrop knew him to be quite adept at the art of storytelling. A story from the shaman's mouth was one to spread, and this promised to be a good one.

"Many yahren ago, our people came to this island during the Great Crossing. All of you have heard the tale many times. Our people came from a village to the west. Taken from the town by the Dreamweavers after a band of adventurers desecrated one of the Mother's most noble creatures. They celebrated the death of the dragon they slew in our town, and payed for it in blood, as did our ancestors who aided them by giving them shelter and taking their coin.

Thus did it come to pass that the children of the town were gifted the spirits of the wild. Beings that cling to our souls even now, teaching us the proper way to deal with nature and all it's creations. Never to slay that which should not be slain, especially something as grand as a dragon."

The shaman paused.

"The story has been recounted often and many details were lost in the retelling. Like the name of the dragon aswell as that of the town."

He took out the leather scroll case he carried and pulled out another piece of parchment which seemed identical to the one Xenovia had found. He opened it, and the kanthrop around the fire could see that the bottom of this parchment was torn.

"My great-grandfather was a child when the Crossing was made. Back in the day when he was human his name was Gannas. He was the son of the town major, something we now call Akanthan. As he got older he found his inner animal to be a hawk, so he was given the name Hawkeye. I was named after him and am honored to share his given name. A boy born from a wealthy family for that time, he had learned to write and read at a young age so he wrote down the story of the Crossing on a sheet of paper...this sheet of paper."

The shaman drew smoke from the pipe aswell. Around the fire some of the other kanthrop that were listening gasped and seemed thoroughly shocked that the piece of paper contained the story of their origins.

"Now, the Crossing was an event unlike anything we can imagine. My grandfather and father used to recount the tale to me. They told me that during the entire journey, across land and water, the Dreamweavers were among the kanthrop. My great-grandfather described them as..." he took his own scroll "...lengthy figures, dressed in dark cloaks. Their faces covered to hide their true nature, like they are teaching us we must do, as we will become hunted like the hunters we are to other creatures of nature. They referred to the Mother often, speaking of the heresy done to her by the adventurers, the death of a great being, destroyed by mundane weapons. They spoke of the dragon, a being none had seen. They did not describe it, but from what we were told it was one of nature's first creations and responsible for our existance."

Gannas paused, looking around the fire. He took the parchment out again and started to read.

"When we arrived at the island, we found a splendor unlike anything we were used to. The woods were lush, the animals beautiful. A single hut stood in the meadow where we were taken. No one had been there for many moons. The Dreamweavers told us we should build a home for ourselves here. That we would be safe from persecution like all Mother's creations were at the hands of humans and the other races."

He folded up the scroll.

"That is where the story of the Crossing as you know it ends. But my grandfather told me that there was another piece to the tale. A piece he had never seen nor heard. The Dreamweavers once visited my great-grandfather. When he was old and ready to die he was ordered to take the final piece of the tale and bring it to a place where another might find it in the hour when the Kanthrop would need it most.

He took Xenovia's scroll.

"Now, my reading is a bit rusty so you must forgive me if I make a mistake here and there. This is what the scroll says;

"The Dreamweavers had not only taken us to this wonderful island of safety and bliss. They had brought the weapons that had destroyed the dragon Kanthanar. A sword, a bow and a spear, forged by...mundane...smiths. These weapons they had told us, were taken to ensure that our kind would live in safety. The magic of the Mother would wane come the yahren.
One faithful eveningtide the Dreamweavers gathered all of us together. A large fire was made and the weapons were cast into the flames. At that moment they asked us all to shift into our animal forms, which ofcourse we did. We shifted, but the feeling was different from before. It felt as if my soul was torn and taken from my body.
When our shifts were complete, the fire had gone out. In the place where the fire had been lay three black weapons, glowing silver lines flowing across the handles and woodwork.
The Dreamweavers told us that they would leave. The essence of Her and her children had been engraved into the weapons, safeguarding her creations for many yahren to come, safeguarding it from the dark menace that lives underneath our feet, locked away in crystalline prisons. The menace they call Nightmare."

"Then...in similar handwriting there is this..."

"I was visited today by a Dreamweaver. It is nigh time for me to abandon this world. he came to me in a dream and spoke to me, telling me to take the final piece of my story with me, as my children and their children would not need to know all.
They would not need to know of the nightmare beneath us. Many have already forgotten as life is good. They would not need to know of the horror that would befall us if one of the keys was taken before it's time, and they do not. But I remember and so it is I must go.

The three keys are safe, holding up the island in the sky, Ursa Etheria. The tethers drawn from the keys will ensure the safety of my people for many generations. One day they will be needed. Hopefully that day will not come soon. It is now upto me to ensure they stay where they should be, only to be found when it is time;

One in the village of Weldar, south of Dragon's Keep, West of Ursa...the sword they call Vanquisher. The key to Ursa's flight.

One in the temple of Kanthanar on the island Sierra, East of Ursa...the spear they call Destiny. The key to Ursa's people.

One in the prison domes of Ursa Etheria...the bow they call Bane. The key to Ursa's destruction."

"And so it was my great-grandfather left on a long journey, taking the knowledge on this parchment with him. It would appear as if Vanquisher was found by someone who should not have found it. Ursa's flight...gone. The Bane is the one you hold Xenovia, that much is obvious. That leaves Destiny..."

Gannas paused again. His pipe had gone out. Around him people started to whisper again, but quickly stood silent once more as the shaman continued.

"The sword, spear and bow are the keys to our existance. Without them, or with them in the wrong hands, who knows what horror might befall us. The Cryers are apparently just one aspect of this dreaded reality. We dare not guess what else might happen if more of the keys are lost."

He turned to Xenovia.

"Where did you find the Bane? But more importantly; Where did you find the scroll?"

[Scarlet]

She could have hurled.

The Key to Ursa's People.

It was as if every life present hung by a thread and she did not even know where it lay. She tried to choke back the roar of sheer injustice and it trickled past her lips in a snarl.

The crashing of the Isle she could take, the mountains were barrier enough for the moment... but the role of Destiny seemed ominous to say the least. Why was this happening? Why were the Keys not buried in 20 feet of solid stone where no curious hand could reach for them? She closed her eyes and sank back into Kytani feeling beaten. She was too weak now to give chase, it would take weeks for the wounds to her flesh to heal. The other and more pressing issue was that Scarlet had precious little idea of where these lands even were.

She cast her half-lidded gaze back to the fire and tried to listen to what Xen would say. Scarlet suddenly felt so tired.

[Xenovia Canace]

OOC: Hope no one minds me posting out of turn, just trying to keep things moving since the recess is fast approaching.

Xenovia looked on as Gannas gazed at the scribblings that meant nothing to her. Such methods of communication were foreign to her; history was passed on through tales, not words. Yet it suddenly occurred to her that words could clearly be useful as well; here was a large chunk of their history which had been lost for many yahren.

The bird warper remained standing as the circle around the fire widened, her sharp glare warning any others against crowding her. She still held the Bane tightly in her grip, though once she had intimidated her kin into giving her enough room she stared stolidly into the fire, listening carefully to Gannas' words. This story she had heard many times, but there was a part of it that caught her attention, and for a time she heard nothing. Those who were paying attention to her would catch for a second time that glaze passing over her golden orbs, her mouth opening slightly as she stared listlessly.

Lengthy figures, dressed in dark cloaks. Their faces covered to hide their true nature...

You are not the one we were expecting...

Her head swam. Visibly she swayed just slightly, like a branch bending in the wind. Slowly her eyes focused, then unfocused. Gannas' words passed in and out of her ears. Sword. Bow. Spear. Glowing silver lines, essence...Nightmare.

It was all so sudden. Just like everything else in the last yahren or more. The island crashing, the Cryers attacking, the invaders appearing, and suddenly another chapter was written in their history. Suddenly there was a threat far greater than the Cryers. Just like that.

Vanquisher was found.

And she had the Bane. The key to Ursa's destruction. Flight, destiny, those were all well and good. Why did Ursa's destruction exist? Would Ursa be destroyed? Or by keeping the Bane, would she save it from destruction? Her thoughts continued to bubble over, her free hand moving to her temple and rubbing gently. But it was all coming back to her, rushing into her mind for the second time, possessing her thoughts. Shaking her muscles. Her eyes were wide as she stared blindly into the fire. Mother.

"Where did you find the Bane? But more importantly; where did you find the scroll?

Xenovia turned her head, staring blankly at Gannas. She opened her mouth and breathed in as if to speak, but found no words to utter. Her chest had expanded, but within flickers it deflated again, and she turned to look at her earlier three companions. She searched for Niamh in the crowd, but did not find her.

"Two days ago," she began slowly, her voice slightly scratchy from the tightness in her throat. She was not as adept at storytelling as her respected elder. For a moment she paused, then began again. "Two days ago, I left to be on my own." Big surprise there. No doubt a few of those present had heard about her losing her temper and running off. "I went to the fields, and stopped to drink at the brook." The brook we were told never to follow. "I followed it."

For a moment she stood up straighter, looking around sharply as if challenging anyone to chastise her for disobeying the rules. Once she was sure no one would speak out, she continued.

"I followed it upward into the mountains, until I met..something. My Inner Animal screamed, told me I was in danger. It was a lengthy figure dressed in a dark cloak, its face hidden to hide its true nature." She used the words of Gannas' grandfather, pausing long enough for them to realize what she meant. A Dreamweaver. "It spoke without speaking. In my mind, like the Cryers. It said I wasn't the one they were expecting. That I hadn't yet walked the path. I asked if I could, and I was told, 'You can not become something you are not meant to be. Only the strong bear the right to survive.' It also said it wasn't mortal, and I saw its hand. Scaled, almost like a snake, but different...

"I followed it into a narrow crack in the rock face. It was dark, and I followed the path inward blindly. Eventually I had to crawl on my hands and knees. The creature I'd met had disappeared, and eventually I met with a wall. A thin one, though, which I broke through." That's what that rock was. The one I'd thought was thrown at me... "I came to a passage, lit with torches. There were two paths before me: one leading up, and one going deeper into the mountain. The walls were smooth, and covered with images, symbols. I saw a floating island, torn from a larger piece of land, with great wings open above it. Below it, left behind, there was one house, one family. A father, mother, and three children."

Here she paused, taking a few breaths, letting all of this sink in. Xenovia was writing another chapter of their history too, she realized. The family was not mentioned in the scrolls, only the Dreamweavers. Nor were the wings spoken of.

"I went down the lower path, and came to a great cave. There was a dim light inside, and I took a torch from the pathway. Beneath my feet there was some kind of thick substance. Oil, perhaps. As soon as an ember from my torch met the liquid, it burst into flame, illuminating the whole room before me." Remembering the wonder she felt, Xenovia gazed upward. "The fire burned in a pattern far below my feet, the flames barely reaching the ground on which I walked at their deepest points. In the middle of the room, a bow, suspended in air and illuminated with light.

"It was then that I saw movement. A shadow, from the corner of my eye. Cryers, in the depths of the mountain! They hissed, called out, began to swarm at the edges of the light. They called me half-breed, and said the drakelings let me in. They cried out for the key. They were all around me, and I had only my spear. But with a bow, I could attack from a distance. I took it. That is how I found the Bane.

"When I took the bow from its perch, I was overcome by a flash of white light. Suddenly, I found myself in a meadow. Nearby, a house. In front of it were a man and a woman, three children playing nearby. Just like in the drawing.

"The woman beckoned me over and called me by name. The man left as I approached. She told me I had nothing to fear, that the Cryers couldn't reach me there. I had never seen her before. She had long black hair, and pale skin, and she was as tall as I am. Her eyes were strange. Serpentine, with slitted pupils more narrow than those of a cat staring into the sun. Her children were young, maybe nine yahren. Their skin was grey. Darker than mine.

"She told me I had walked into the prison of her shadows and taken the key that had bound them. Told me she would answer my questions if I answered hers. She said I wasn't supposed to be there, and asked how I found the entrance, and who had ordered the release of her shadows. She said I was in her home, and also my home. That her children had brought me here. She said..." Would they believe her? "She said she was our mother."

Our mother.

"I told her the island had fallen from the sky, that the Cryers attacked every night. I thought that was what she meant, that I had released the shadows. But I told her they'd been released a long time ago, and that the island had fallen from the sky. She seemed..confused. She said something had gone wrong, but she didn't know what. That somehow the Cryers must have found another way to get to the surface. She said I had to find the other seals, and then she went into the house, and came back with a scroll. She said it was what I needed to find the other seals; that they were artifacts that upheld the balance of the dream. She told me to return to the island and keep the Bane safe. Then everything disappeared. That is how I received the scroll."

Xenovia looked bewildered. The words falling from her mouth were memories she was recalling almost as she spoke them. Until that moment she had been too weary, too weak to recall the tale. But necessity had drawn it from her -- necessity, and the fact that it was burned into her mind. How could she ever forget such a thing?

"When I found myself back in the cave, the light from the fire was going out. I ran, and that was when I encountered Scarlet. She had followed me, and was at the entrance where I broke through the wall. We ran together, but were stopped on the second path, the one that went up higher. I thought we were going to die but she...she yelled at me. Kept me from losing my senses. She gave me her arrows." Xen's gaze flickered to Scarlet for a moment, but she quickly looked away. "I knocked an arrow and aimed at the Cryers, and that was when it happened. The whole bow began to shine with light, all through the lines of it and straight into the arrow. Even the tip glowed silver. When I let go, it tore through the Cryers like nothing I have ever seen before. As if I had thrown a sliver of the sun into their midst. It worked a second and third time, before we finally escaped. Once we were safe, Scarlet warped for the first time."

She left out the details. If Scarlet wanted to share them, she would.

"Then we made our way back to the village, hiding from the Cryers at night. And now we are here, with the Bane, and the scroll."

Finally Xenovia fell silent, looking quietly at Gannas without any sort of expression in her eyes.

[Kytani Hajgomb]

Kytani released Muraco’s arm and returned to her spot next to/behind Scarlet to listen to the story, the young panther paying careful attention to both Gannas and Xenovia as they spoke, her eyes pausing on Muraco for a flicker before returning to Gannas. “Well then…” she muttered after a flicker or two of silence. “Looks to me as if we will have to expand our circle, correct, Master Gannas?” she asked, allowing the great cat within her to pounce via her words upon an opportunity that others might not be so willing to take, especially if it meant enduring what Xenovia and Scarlet had endured. “The Cryers grow bolder and so too must we – the sword is lost, for now… The bow is found… The spear…” she stated, giving Gannas and the crowded kit around him a look “I would rather die knowing that it is safe than live not knowing if it still rests or hangs within a trophy room somewhere…” Her left eyebrow arched above yellow eyes which glowed with determination, almost silently challenging those around her for support.

“Master Gannas, I know that I am young yet and have not yet warped, but I wish to go to Sierra – to seek out and retrieve the spear – not for personal glory, Shaman, but for our people… So that yahren from now another is not reading our history scrolls and wondering why things happened as they did.” She gave a small intake of air, which she let out slowly, expecting her request to be shot down in front of the whole of her peers. She didn’t care about the disgrace, but she refused to stay silent and await another to volunteer for the task.

“May I, Master Gannas? I am young, so I have less to lose than the Elders, who have so much life behind them…”

[Scarlet]

She bit down on her lower lip, her mind too easily recalling the vaporous claws that had slid so easily past her steel. She looked up at Xen, her own eyes wide in the dark as she looked up at the woman who had saved her life. She wondered by what fortune she had stumbled across that track by the river, and by what stroke of fate had bade her follow it. It was as if she trod some predetermined path, a river she could to little to steer. It seemed to Scarlet as if the foundations of her life were made of little more than dreams and lies. The story of the crossing itself was no longer some fire-side yarn, but a dark prophecy by which the future of her race seemed governed.

Still, at least now they knew.

Her gaze flickered to Kytani, her elder but somehow different. Scarlet was a full Kanthrop now, warped and whole. It was a strange thought that Kytani was still a kit. She stood, slowly and painfully, raising one hand to quieten Kytani's eager outburst before looking to each of the Kanthrop about her. She had no more right to speak than any of them, but Scarlet had always been incisive and rarely quiet.

"Now isn't the time Sister." She spoke to the flames before raising one eyebrow towards her hutmate. "We must first select our prey before anyone dies chasing it."

Scarlet grinned at her before turning to face Gannas and the other assembled Kanthrop.

"I do agree that Sierra must be our first hunt. The sword is already gone and that is dealt with. The Key to Ursa's people sounds like something I do not wish to gamble on."

Quite aside from what we do with the shiny little fuckers once we have them.