Pirates, again that word. Whatever they were, Anise didn't like them. Pirates didn't exist in Anise's homeworld as sea travel was nothing more than a dream and the only ships that existed were rowboats used by fishermen in the lake of Riverforde. Darkness came back as Tyaelaem grabbed her hand and ran with her, again her one source of sight wasn't working. She had barely had time before they started running to drink some of the water that was given to her. She felt quite lucky to have not been hit by any arrows again. Were these the same Pirates as last time? She had hoped that she and Tyaelaem had lost them, but it seemed she was wrong. She knew not where she was going, but she felt she could be safe with Tyaelaem near. He was the only person she felt she could trust. The monkeybats were behind them as were the pirates, and she hoped that they would be too busy dealing with each other to chase her and Tyaelaem. She then saw the light of Kituo's lantern and saw an old man reaching out towards him. Kituo cried out for help and Anise found herself pulling away from Tyaelaem to go help. She rushed up to stand by his side and glared up the old man. "Leave him alone." She had her commanding voice on, something she had a lot of practice with being a princess.

As Simon was following behind the feet of the eager moving rabbit he scooped up the wolf mask that had been left behind from when Talan had gone missing. It might be of a benefit in the future, so he slide it into his pants and continued after the rabbit.

Wherever the smooth white wood of the mask touched Simon, his skin tingled ever so slightly. At the edge of the light of his torch, Simon might see shadows moving among the green-heavy trees. He might feel eyes watching him -- not only those of the batmonkeys that bounced in the boughs, but the eyes of something very, very old.

"Ah!" Kituo lost his balance, tipping over as the stray tree root caught his foot. He turned mid fall, now facing the man as he neared him.

The root shifted and cracked, moving like a rheumatic snake in the hard ground. It slinked into the brush, as it satisfied that it had done its job. Above, branches extended over Kituo like reaching fingers. The lantern light cast an eerie green glow on masses of shimmering leaves, and made the old man appear ghastly in his interest.

"Get away from it!" Kituo snapped, kicking out and attempting to roll over. Very seldom did his fear cause him to lash out. However, given his circumstances, flight was becoming less and less viable of a solution. To kick the man was a very impulsive and probably stupid decision on Kituo's part. . . . "Help!" Kituo screamed, kicking out again to prevent the old man from getting closer.

"Ooch!" the old man yelped, scuffling away from the boy's crazed feet. "Now, now -- hey!" While the first kick had had little effect but to knock the old man a bit off-balance, the second sent a sudden, electric zap up Kituo's leg, like a charged static shock. Bright tendrils of electricity rippled along the old man's armor for a split second, and his hair and beard stood on-end. "You watch it! I know you're no kith, settle yourself." he huffed, and he dragged his fingers through the staticky fuzz of his beard. But his eyes widened as the lantern light beneath Kituo's bulging shirt began to change and intensify. The green glow of the lantern swelled brighter, and brighter, like a star about to explode. And then it flashed in a quick stutter of light, glowed intensely for half a second, then pulsed rapidly again. The lantern was warm, but not scalding, against Kituo's stomach. In the woods behind the old man, a spot of intense purple light glimmered through the trees. The purple light stuttered in response to the green, as if the two were communicating. They exchanged rapid flashes twice, and then the purple light dimmed into the shadows and the green lantern faded to its original state. "Oh, the egg likes you, does it?" The old man frowned. "My father built that iron casing, and you should be glad for it, else the forest itself would be coming down on us. Now come, it's not a toy, give it to me, chop chop." His armor buzzed again with a bit of residual, broken electricity, and his face twitched but he continued to glare down at Kituo.

Kituo cried out for help and Anise found herself pulling away from Tyaelaem to go help. She rushed up to stand by his side and glared up the old man. "Leave him alone." She had her commanding voice on, something she had a lot of practice with being a princess.

The moment Anise released her hand from Tyaelaem's, the nighstick began working again. Where she stood over Kituo, facing the armored old man, she could easily see a prick of steady purple light in the distance, behind moving branches. Equally distant, and moving closer to the purple light, was a small group of people dressed in armor similar to that of the old man. They had bows and quivers, and one big man had an unconscious person slung over his shoulder who was dressed very much like Randold. All this was only visible to Anise: to everyone else, the woods were only shadows. The little bell still hung from a branch overhead. A group of monkeybats were perched around it, staring at it with mild interest. The old man's eyes were big again, this time in shock to see a lady in a rather muddy looking dress, standing defensively over the lantern-bearer and wielding a stick that he recognized very well. "Wh-what? What is -- who are you?" he huffed and sputtered, indignant and frowning. "Why do you have that! Where is Lord Argen?" He had barely finished speaking when a rock whizzed through the air and smacked him upside the head. The man stumbled a little, rubbing his head, and caught sight of Tyaelaem, who was preparing another stone. The old man calmly and heroically stepped between Anise and Tyaelaem as if to protect the princess, and withdrew his sword; the blade was etched with several dozen small runes, and unlike his armor it glistened like new. "Away, Kith demon!" he roared. He caught sight of Simon and gestured to him with the blade. "Don't just stand there, young friend. Attack, I say!" Randold would awaken upside-down, his wrists and ankles tied tightly together, with a spinning head and a vague memory of being attacked by a shower of arrows. A gash had been opened on his bleeding arm; he'd been grazed by a poisoned arrow, which had knocked him out after only a few seconds. The last image he'd seen before passing out was Tyaelaem running off with Anise in tow, and Hania running back toward the mouth of the cavern. And now, he was being carried over the shoulder of an armored and well-muscled man as they passed between dark heavy trees. The only source of light was the occasional glimmer of stars through the gaps in the canopy. "You saw it, right?" a young woman whispered. She was walking ahead of the man that carried Randold. "A purple flash, just ahead, there." "Could just be a dying firecat," the muscular man proposed. Randold could feel his chest rumble as he spoke. The man's armor was old but well cared-for, and made of iron and leather. It was etched all over with runes and sigil arrays. A bow and quiver was slung over his other shoulder, and a long knife was sheathed behind his back with the hilt facing away from Randold. "No, this was something entirely different," the woman assured him. "I want to see before we go back." The third person was walking quietly ahead, discernable only by the rustle of a cloak and the swish of leaves under their feet. It was quick like a blow to the head. Hot, crippling pain exploded in your skull. A piercing light flashed behind your eyes. A terrible, trembling horror ripped through you like knives of ice. Blinded, you felt as if you were falling, falling from an impossible height, down and deep into a hungry hot chasm stretched wide to receive you like the great maw of a beast. Its damp swirling breath smelled bittersweet, like chocolate laced with a hint of cinnamon ... You awaken at night to the creaking of crickets and the sob of an owl. Your bruised, aching limbs are tangled in a pile of warm strangers -- other people, like you, deposited all in one place, to the detriment of whomever was first to arrive. The night air is cool and calm on your cheek; it smells sweet like rotting leaves and copper. You and your new comrades are collected on a low, circular metal platform, ten feet in diameter, that is nestled deep among thick roots and thick weeds and looks as if it's been there for centuries; there are markings etched into the surface of the platform, but they're obscured by ancient moss and creeping ragged vines. Above, a thick rustle of leaves and mossy branches obscures the sky, but you are not without light: a weathered iron lantern hangs from a bough of a tree, twelve feet above the platform, held up by a thin shimmering thread. It casts a steady purple glow -- the hue of a deep sunset -- and it softly illuminates the giant pale structures of mushrooms growing out of the tree. The tree -- old, twisted, and white beneath the layers of moss and vines wrapped around it, and whose gnarled dead branch supports the lantern that is your only light -- is ticking. While every other tree and bough is laden with leaves, the tree whose roots embrace the platform has no leaves of its own but has died and been enveloped by the forest. The dead white tree is now merely a host for huge, plaform-like mushrooms. Within the trunk of the tree comes a distict sound: WHRRRRR-CLIK-CLAK . . . WHRRRR-CLIK-CLAK . . . WHRRRRR-CLIK-CLAK . . .

Anise glowered at the old man. None of what he said made any sense. Who was Lord Argen? There were lords here? She was about to ask these questions when Tyaelaem began to attack the old man. She didn't quick get why. Then she saw the sword come out and she shivered nervously. He was facing Tyaelaem and calling him a demon, which was something that angered her. She knew right away this man was no friend. The sword scared her, but she didn't want Tyaelaem to get hurt. "Tyaelaem is not a demon! He's a friend! He's going to help me get home!" She cried out with each swing as she swung at the old man's head with the nightstick with all of her might. Then she saw Randold in the distance being carried by a group of people. Her hopes soared! He was alive! He had to be! There was no way they'd waste their time carrying a dead body, right? In spite of all of her fear she had to defeat this old warrior and save Randold.

The sound and smells of the forest were no strangers to the small girl sprawled out on the platform floor, but the cold cool metal pressed against her cheek was foreign and strange. A inaudible groan escaping her paled pink lips, her soft blue hair was splattered across her face, the small crown of peonies still managing to hang onto her head. If it wasn't for the grimace of pain across her face, she would have seem perfectly at ease in the depths of the forest. She remembered a falling sensation, so familiar, as if she slipped out of a tree, the battered and brushed aching in her body helping keep her calm and peaceful. Her eyes lids flickered slightly as she tried to focus, the spots of light still dancing across her vision as a ringing sound continued to play in her ears, the dulling throb pounding in her head reminded the girl of when she was younger and had stolen her mother's potion, she seen her drinking from it most nights, but there was no sting to the back of her throat or the warmth pooling in her stomach. No, this was caused by something else, scrunching her eyes she tried to recall the last thing she remembered. The Caravan! Sitting up too quickly sent the poor girl's head spinning causing her to roll over using her hands to support her incase she decided to empty the contents of her stomach. After a few short moments of dry heaving, Eveline noticed the cold metal pressing against her hands, and the warmth across her legs making her turn and look blinking a few times at the presences of a scrappy looking...boy? On closure inspection he looked like one of the delivery boys she saw running around the village, before shaking her head. She didn't care who he was; she wanted to know who he was and why he was in her forest. Wait... 'This Isn't Your Forest...' Her thought crept in like a lovers whisper. A short look around help her confirm the nagging suspicion, she had never seen such huge mushrooms before, and the constant whirring of gears were a telltale sign that she was someplace new. The soft wash of light from the lantern caught her eye, curiously she slowly withdrew her feet from under the messenger, not caring if she woke him in the process before crawling her way towards the tree, her discomfort of being on metal growing even if it was buried under roots and leaves it still made her uneasy and did little to appeal the nausea toying with her stomach. Reaching the tree, she slowly reached out a hand pressing it against the trunk as she pulled herself up, her legs shook slightly under her before she sighed resting her head against the decrepit bark, the scent of rotting wood and oak calming her as she tried to ignore the taint of metal clawing the air. 'A Forest is A Forest.' She smiled at her own reassuring thought before giggling spinning around slightly her cheerfulness returning in wake of the dispelling pain and queasiness. Humming softly she looked up at the mushrooms wondering if she could climb on them, the soft glitter of the purple light catching her eye once more. Drawn to it, Eveline reached out finding some purchase in the tree and began ascending the tree, pleasantly surprised she could stand on the mushrooms feeling them give slightly under her. She would assume that anyone of a heavier set would find it more daunting to try and perch on the giant fungi; turning away from the light source she looked out over the forest, well at least as far as the lights edge noticing just how large the platefrom was. 'It almost looks like the hunter's traps..' Her gruesome thought startled her as she looked back at the lantern and then back at the area infront of the tree, if the forest was as dark as it seemed then perhaps it wasn't a bad plan to lure creatures out with such a bright light. She shivered slightly wondering if her and the other three bathing in the light were prey or bait. The darkening thoughts only lasted for a moment as the flower child turned back around continuing her climb up the mushroom, her barefeet slowly turning black from the tree.

The sound of whirring. The smell of petrichor. Warm skin. Movement. Robin jerked into wakefulness as skin brushed against her legs. She shot up into a sitting position and her muscles groaned in protest, before dragging her back to the ground. She pressed her palms on the cold metal, hunched over the body of someone else as she assessed the injuries on her body;there were splotches of purple on her skin and her entire body ached. What happened? She was in a clearing surrounded by forest; roots clung to the metal platform she rested on, and the rusted lantern cast an eerie purple glow on the bodies that lie around her. That should have worried her, but they all seemed to be as injured as she. After a cursory look over the others, she determined that they would be fine, and stood up, brushing the leaves and dirt that had collected on her body. The sound of whirring continued endlessly behind her, and she approached the root of the enormous tree that supported the only source of light. She pushed aside the upper layer of wines and traced a finger on a crevice of the calloused bark. It shone a curious white under the purple light, and seemed to pulse with life. She pressed her ears to the bark and listened; the tree was not alive. It ticked with the likelihood of machinery and held gnarled branches without leaves. Upon further inspection, what she thought were large leaves hanging over the platform were the shadowed bottoms of umbrella like mushrooms. Excitement blossomed in her chest, and she knew there was no use trying to squash it. A small movement amongst the fungi caught her eye. A figure was standing upon on of the mushroom heads—a young girl with silver hair. Robin shot a glance at the people on the floor, and decided to untangle those that looked to be in particularly uncomfortable situations before sprinting up to follow the girl.

Wherever the smooth white wood of the mask touched Simon, his skin tingled ever so slightly.

After running for a short while Simon, there was a warm tingling sensation on the lower left side of his back that concerned him. Like the feeling of blood spreading, which was a likely possibility since there had been arrows flying through the forest after their party, however there was no pain that accompained with this feeling. Which really didn't really mean anything since there were many poisions or remedies depending on what side of the line you were standing on. However when Simon put his hand to the location of this sensation he realized that it was the mask that he had picked up that use to be Talans. SImon was looking down at his hand realizing that is wasn't blood covered when the rest of the party stopped but Simon was so focused on his palm that he didn't notice this or anything else around him and slammed into the back of Tyaelaem both of them falling to the ground. When they collided together the mask that was in the waistband of Simons dislodged it self and rolled an arm length away from him. Swweeeettt Lorrrrrd !! Why did you stop rabbit! Simon shouted before he had even opened his eyes. Simon got into a sitting postion looking at Anise, Kituo and this new old guy a small distance away. They were out of earshot so he couldn't hear anything that was being said. Simon reached a picked up the torch with one hand and reached for the mask with the other. Simon had felt very overwhelmed with bad vibes at the moment. Simon dropped the torch onto the ground when he could feel a massive amounts of eyes leering at him some human, some not.

It had started with pain: sharp, agonizing, and crippling pain that pierced his forehead, surging through his brain before slamming painfully against the back of his skull. It felt as if he was going to die. And at that moment, Elijah wanted nothing else. Smacking his lips, his eyes shot as he gasped for air. Every movement he made, no matter how slight, sent a wave of agony roaring up his spine, blurring his vision and causing his throat to burn with a renewed sense of thirst. Dazed and confused, he stumbled to his feet, clumsily brushing off his overcoat before staggering forward. He wiped away the tears that streamed down his cheeks, stifling a cough as his gaze shifted skyward. A tree. It was a colossal, dead, white tree. While impressed that a plant could grow to such heights, he found himself much more intrigued by what was on it. A lantern dangled off one of the many gnarled branches that jutted out from the tree, swaying gently in the breeze as it steadily pulsed an amethyst hue. And it was through this sight that ELijah found himself being overtaken with a sense of fear; inexplicable and foreboding terror that seemed to permeate his skin and seep into the very depths of his mortal soul. This was short lived, however, when he noticed two figures moving in front of him. "H-Hello?" He choked out, the pitch of his voice sounding more like a sob than a greeting. Suddenly, a fire leaped up and roared throughout his belly, causing him to lurch forward and frantically clasp his hands around his knees. He hunched over in pain, groaning loudly as a stream of red bile came forth from his throat, splattering the ground and tainting the earth with its crimson hue. "Oh God, what the fuck?" He mumbled, wiping his mouth as he struggled to regain his composure. The forest was dim and damp, and the cool breeze danced lightly upon his skin and caressed his cheeks with kisses of ice. He had to follow them.

Through the fog and throbbing pain in her head, a single thought formed. A question actually... 'Where am I...?' It was a simple answer really. She was trapped in a world of nightmare, a land of demons and a place where bad girls went when they died. It was a simple answer really... MC was in Hell. What else could explain such a smell? So wet and dank, like decaying bodies in the cellar, covered up by wet earth and dead plants. Such coolness from the breath of giant looming canopies... and where were her stars?! Not a single cluster nor pattern did she recognize from the patches of sky revealed between the twisted branches and dark foliage! Mama always said that bad girls would end up in the frying pan of the Demon-Lord. But no, mija, he would cook you not from fire like you know, said Mama, for the most evilest of flames would not roast bad girls, but freeze their souls. Cubes of ice for the devil's drink was where bad girls would end up. And so regardless of the movements and sounds in this Hell, regardless of the warm touch of demons resting at her back, arms and feet, MC did not move as they stirred and eventually poked and prodded her. No she did not move, lest she wish to stray from what protection her poncho provided her as she hid her head beneath it. Oh, but they lifted her arms and legs, inspecting such a girl, such a bad girl, and all the while, she just kept her eyes tightly shut, hoping beyond hope that they would just go away and take their violent violet lights with them. This was a bad place, of this MC was certain. This was a bad place that took bad girls from their homes. This was a bad place that punished girls that liked to kiss other girls. Mama found out and Mama was right. None of Mama Lasperritas babies would ever stray from nature... for if they did... if their devious ways were ever found out... They would be cast away. And so here she was. In Hell. She could hear the demons move. They giggled too. The moved with eerie quiet, trying to keep their slithering motions hidden in stealth, but MC heard them. Beyond the pain in her head and nausea in her tummy, she could feel them leering at her. They hummed away neath violent violet lights but mercifully, they finally left her alone in the frying pan. Oh but soon they would call to her, whisper in her ear and ask her one question about her life. One question-- "H-Hello?" Wait. What..? It sounded human?! Both hazel eyes snapped open then a single reddish brown brow furrowed as the other arched up ward. A rushed ruffle as she pulled her poncho from over her head, then she looked around and caught sight of some strangely dressed gringo throwing up. MC's light brown face scrunched up as he swore and wiped his mouth, but she did not dare move to help him... for he may just be a demon in disguise. She only understood a few words he spoke. 'What the' and 'Hello--' Wait! 'Hello?!' Hola... The pale people that came to buy their dogs on their farm said 'Hello!' Pink lips parted and her jaw held open in surprise. Maybe he just was another soul trapped in Hell too? Just like her...? Now he was running from her! “¡Anda! ¡Senior! ¡Senior, espera un momento, por favor!” MC rose and stumbled about, vertigo slamming in her head, but she just could not be left behind in the Devil's Frying Pan. Oh! But she could make out two other figures climbing those... those big flat lichen thingies? That's where he was going! Wait, how did they say that again? What did those pale peoples say to Papi-- “¡ Si, lo se!” Mia-Canta nodded as she waved her hands, bracelets lining her muscular arms clinked together like desert wind chimes as she tried to speak like those outsiders that came to her family's farm, “Hello, there! How are you today!!” Her bare feet squeaked upon the metallic surface of the giant frying pan as she scrambled after the boy. Oh so cold! But she called out again: “Ey, mister! Hello! How much for this doggie!!!”

The lantern continued to sway slightly as the constant whirring from the trunk sent vibration through out its dead branches. Frowning childishly Eveline did her best to keep to the edge of the fungi, her pale dress taking on the same tone as her skins as the black spores and powder from the plant coated her slightly, a small streak of black smeared across her forehead when she went to wipe it readjusting her flower crown, the bright red and pink peonies still shimmering brightly in the lamp light. She always loved climbing, and was almost giddy at the fact she was climbing on giant mushrooms, she had never seen any so big before, it as exhilarating at this point she wanted to keep climbing just as much as she wanted to reach the strange source of purple light. The soothing sounds of the forest were interrupted by a man's voice, causing the girl to frown slightly as she turned around once more walking to the edge of the mushroom. In the soft dim glow of the lantern should could make out the silhouette of a man down on the ground, she vaguely remembered him from early as he looked around frantically calling out before his bright red bile grew eerily where the light hit it. Tilting her head, Eveline watched as his calling stirred the last laying figure on the platform, her bracelet tinkling clearly against the hollow silence where the strange man's voice had silenced the music of the forest. Her eyes narrowed slightly as foreign tongue filled the air, the girl didn't like it, it sounded harsh on her ears. She wasn't used to people speaking in her forest, and was hoping this new one would be no different, a slight frown etching it's way on her mouth as she watched them head towards her tree as well, she wondered if either of them knew the meaning of being quiet, of letting the forest sing to them. Shaking her head, she caught wind of the soft footsteps of someone much closer to her, a pleased smile reforming back on the woodland girls face as she peered down over the edge again catching sight of the boy from earlier. Clapping slightly Eveline debated on waiting and letting the lone figure catch up or continue her climb towards the bright lantern, but waiting meant giving the loud ones time to catch up as well and she really didn't much care for them. The boy was different he was quiet and seemed almost as pleased to be here as she was. Humming softly Eveline grinned as the forest recovered from the interruptions, the lone hoot of an owl echoing, as the rest joined in the song. She would imagine most would find it unsettling and daunting, this place, it didn't seem like either sun or moon light would ever grace the floors of the forest, the canopy wasn't extremely thick by any means yet it seemed to eat the light for the lantern greedily. 'Such a strange place, how did we get here...' She wondered silently before giggling plopping down on the edge of the fungi, her blackened legs danging off the edge as she waited for the others, mainly the boy to catch up watching his progress curiously the closer he got the more unsure she was that he was a he, perhaps it was the light but the messenger boy had rather feminine features it's confused the girl as she shook her head returning her gaze to the two down below wondering just what was going on. The warm glow of the lantern splayed across her back beckoning and calling her to continue her ascent.

Robin sprinted swiftly across the top of the fungus and leaped easily onto the next. The girl clapped at her fast ascent and seemed to be waiting for her at the top. She wasn’t sure who she would find, but her gut told her that there was no danger—only opportunity. The sounds of human voices erupted behind her, and she stopped, before peering down at the source of the noise. She lie against the top of the fungi and watched the man, who looked liked he belonged in an aristocrat’s house rather than a forest, stand and topple before puking. She snickered, but then remembered her own reaction to the pain—hopefully she didn’t look as embarrassing. The other girl had already awoken, and started speaking in a foreign language. Her bracelets clanked against one another loudly, breaking the eerie silence of the forest. Erin wondered if she should approach them, but the man seemed to already be stumbling near the fungus. She felt reluctance dredge in the pit of her stomach; logically, it made sense that she should meet with them to figure out why they were here; they were in the same situation as she was; but, in the end, they were strangers. She glanced back at the girl above of her and back to the others still on the platform. “They’ll be fine. We’re all heading to the same place, anyway,” she thought. Robin stood up and continue her ascent, making her way closer to the mysterious girl, only visible by the light of the swaying, creaking lantern.

Waking upside down and bleeding was hardly a welcome way to wake up, as he dangled Randold tried to piece together what happened. Last he remembered they were suddenly assaulted by a stream of arrows, fortunately the others found their way out, at he least he could assume as much. All he could hope is they'll be alright and the rabbit boy doesn't harm the princess... perhaps the boy himself had something to do with the attack. Randold tested the ropes, no such luck these were tight knots, it'll take time he didn't have to undo them, if even possible in the first place. Good news it seemed his captors didn't notice his waking up, an advantage he wanted to keep for sure. For now his plan was to wait, not to draw attention to himself for as long as possible, eventually they'll have to stop for one reason or another. Its then Randold will start searching for a way out, more importantly he had to find everyone when possible. Funny thing is he didn't realize how close they truly were, Anise's words didn't reach him.

The electric shock jolted Kituo, causing him to pause before resuming his tirade. The old man was no one to be trusted. Just what did he intend to do with the lantern? In his mind Kituo pictured him taking it away and leaving him alone to perish in the forest. There was nothing stopping him from doing so. He had weapons and armor - a bizarre armor at that. His fear intensified as it never ceased to do. Kituo let out another exaggerated and bloodcurdling scream. Either he was hallucinating or the lantern was responding to him with a brighter glow. Wait a minute. It wasn't. A feint purple intruded upon the shower of green light that dared to obscure Kituo's vision completely. Kituo sat up, the heat of the lantern warming his stomach. He didn't mind the heat of its touch for it seemed more soothing than ever. Observing the battle of flashes between the purple light in the distance and the lantern's green glow, Kituo became so fascinated that he almost forgotten about the old man who was antagonizing him. He was snapped back into the moment by his voice which sounded rasping and scratchy - at least to his perception. With the exchange finished, Kituo whirled around to face the old man. Poking his bottom lip out in a passive protest, he wanted him to get the message. "No," Kituo hissed. He didn't feel the need to say more. Further justifying his stance, the old man revealed that the egg had taken a liken to Kituo and quite frankly he reciprocated that sentiment for what was now a multitude of reasons. There was something inside of the lantern and Kituo had little doubts that it would emerge into a wondrous sight. Glaring up at the old man, Kituo received a greedy vibe. While it was possible that he was prejudging him, the stress that accompanied their encounter so far had given him all but a negative notion of the veteran warrior. If Kituo wanted to get out ahead in the confrontation he would have to do what he did best - flee. He was stopped by a voice. The voice...of a girl? It surprised him, making him jump. His mind went to work as a swarm of questions swept through it. When Anise appeared he felt eased. He recalled catching a glimpse of her back at the clearing before dashing out. Remembering that made him feel worried. If she were there then Simon and the spear craftsman would undoubtedly be far behind. The must have survived the monkey-bat assault. Hopefully they would understand Kituo's decision to take off with the lantern and save his own skin. He was sure any other sane person would take the same protocols. Then again, given all of the duress, the status of Kituo's sanity was currently up for debate. Kituo remained silent as an ensuing conflict erupted between the old man, Anise, and some strange rabbit guy - the last of the trio giving him the chills. The rabbit guy seemed to be in Anise's companionship but that didn't make him feel any less weary. After all, he was still unaware of who exactly was friend or foe. He had the feeling that a reunion with Simon and the spear craftsman was unavoidable if the girl had come. He couldn't bare to face them again. Not after what he tried to get away with. I'll slip away while they're all killing each other, Kituo thought, grief pulling him back. It was a very reprehensible idea and while it wasn't the best, it was the easiest to execute. Running had yet to fail as his most effective solutions to his problems. Sorry guys, but me and the egg are getting out of here. Kituo rolled over, his eyes passing over Simon, and he started to crawl away. He only cleared a few inches before an accumulating of familiar adversaries petrified him. The monkey bats had definitely followed them but they didn't seem to be worried about the humans squabbling among themselves. They were instead captivated by the bell. Still their presence was enough to keep Kituo from moving. He didn't dare to utter a single breath, the earlier attack replaying as if no time progressed since his escape.

The old man was no one to be trusted. Just what did he intend to do with the lantern? In his mind Kituo pictured him taking it away and leaving him alone to perish in the forest. There was nothing stopping him from doing so. He had weapons and armor - a bizarre armor at that. His fear intensified as it never ceased to do. Kituo let out another exaggerated and bloodcurdling scream. Either he was hallucinating or the lantern was responding to him with a brighter glow.

At the boy's shriek, a swish of shadows in the canopy announced the arrival of more curious monkeybats, silent and light on the branches, red eyes bright as rubies.

. . . slammed into the back of Tyaelaem both of them falling to the ground. When they collided together the mask that was in the waistband of Simons dislodged it self and rolled an arm length away from him.

Tyaelaem had just drawn back another stone when he squeaked and tumbled instead, pressing a hand to his mask to keep it from being knocked off. He rolled once and hopped to all fours like a startled cat, and the hollow eyes of the rabbit mask fixed warily on Simon. It seemed to the Kith that Simon had helped the old man by interrupting Tyaelaem's attack, and the thought crossed the boy's mind that Simon -- with his odd spectacles and too-quiet demeanor -- must be a pirate in disguise. Tyaelaem was tense while he glanced at the dropped wolf mask, and he wondered what Simon had done to its previous owner in order to take it.

Simon had felt very overwhelmed with bad vibes at the moment. Simon dropped the torch onto the ground when he could feel a massive amounts of eyes leering at him some human, some not.

Tyaelaem skittered backward on his hands and feet, and he suddenly looked up, spying something above and behind Simon's head. He shrank and trembled, staring at a spot in the branches that to everyone -- even to Anise -- seemed to be only empty. Whatever was looming there in the dark woods over Simon, only Tyaelaem could see it through the eyes of his mask -- and it filled the young Kith with terror. Meanwhile, the torch on the ground had kindled the dead leaves and dry grasses there. Tendrils of fire snaked slowly out along the ground, and the flames crackled and grew higher. Small flat mushrooms grew on the damp bark of the mossy trees; just beyond the edge of the clearing was a wide carpet of tiny, slightly glowing blue flowers; and the fire was quickly spreading toward a clump of Spirit Weeds that was nestled in the crook of a tree's roots.

Kituo rolled over, his eyes passing over Simon, and he started to crawl away. He only cleared a few inches before an accumulating of familiar adversaries petrified him. The monkey bats had definitely followed them but they didn't seem to be worried about the humans squabbling among themselves. They were instead captivated by the bell. Still their presence was enough to keep Kituo from moving. He didn't dare to utter a single breath, the earlier attack replaying as if no time progressed since his escape.

Even as the fire cast bright shadows on the trees and tainted the air with smoke, the monkeybats only shifted in the branches, their red eyes hypnotized by the shine of the bell.

"Tyaelaem is not a demon! He's a friend! He's going to help me get home!" She cried out with each swing as she swung at the old man's head with the nightstick with all of her might.

One hit to the back of the old man's head, with all the force of the princess' fury behind it, was all it took. The nightstick cracked against his skull and he sprawled to the ground with a choked cry of shock. Dazed, his head throbbing and spinning, the old man whimpered and struggled to push himself up -- but his armor was heavy and his vision was unfocused, so he lay facedown on the ground, groaning pitifully. A shock of electricity rippled along his armor at the impact of the ground against it, and then was quiet; touching the armor was safe, as long as it was gentle. The sword was on the ground under his hand, but the old man was in no position nor state to wield it. "There is no home anymore, my lady," the old man croaked, shuffling his armored knees uselessly in the grass. In the distance, the group that had carried Randold off had disappeared among the trees, no longer visible to Anise. But they had been heading for the glimmer of purple light, which still shone through the branches.

For now his plan was to wait, not to draw attention to himself for as long as possible, eventually they'll have to stop for one reason or another. Its then Randold will start searching for a way out, more importantly he had to find everyone when possible. Funny thing is he didn't realize how close they truly were, Anise's words didn't reach him.

"Sshh, here!" the woman whispered. The armored man grunted as he heaved Randold off his shoulder, and he none-too-gently deposited Randold on the ground, propped up against a boulder. The armored man sighed with relief, flexed his shoulder and cracked his neck, and then he knelt in front of Randold to study him. "He's still asleep." The third traveler stepped forward into the clearing. This was a young lady, not much older than Tyaelaem, who wore no armor but was laden with etched iron jewelry beneath a deep cloak. She lifted a staff like the one Anise carried, and the prostrate body of a young man floated silently along the ground. Through some work of magic she gently deposited the young man in the grass near Randold. This second captive was gagged as well as bound, and he was bloodied from a fight. He wore crude leather armor and a necklace of small skulls. "Keep an eye on them, they'll be awake soon," the woman leader said in a low voice. The armored man grumbled under his breath and sat down at Randold's side, a few feet away, watching him boredly. He was thick and black-haired, with a grizzle of dusty beard and an array of tools and pouches strapped to his thighs. An iron pendant hung from his neck over his etched armor. He took a canteen from his belt and took a long swallow. "If yer playing at sleeping," he spoke to Randold, "there's no point. As soon as ya prove you're no Kith, we'll untie ya. Precautions, ya know." His voice was gruff, but he was only interested in Randold in a curious sort of way. Randold had no mask and was not at all dressed like a Kith, but he didn't have a tattoo on his palm like the rest of pirates. It was hard to say what should be done with him. The armored man put the canteen in Randold's bound hands, and sat back again. He did not, however, speak to Talan. Talan would awaken on his back on the ground, with little memory except for a sudden surrounding of shadows and a cloth at his mouth that smelled like bitter lavender. His ankles were bound, as were his wrists, and a gag was tied tight in his mouth. These pirates had no doubt that Talan was a Kith -- they'd found him wearing a mask, after all -- and so would spare him none of the luxuries they had extended to Randold. The small mage folded her legs under her and sat near Talan to stare at him with big vacant eyes. The leader had her back to them. She was crouched at the edge of the hill, looking out at the glow of a purple lantern that hung not too far away. From here Randold might see the shapes of people climbing the platforms of gigantic mushrooms, up the side of an ancient tree, toward the lantern. These people shouted to one another, but from the pirates' perch it was hard to understand what they were saying. The woman glanced back at the armored man and hissed excitedly, "It's a summoning lantern!" "Not possible," the armored man scoffed. "Those went dead a hundred years ago." "Well this one's alive," the woman whispered, and she stared out at the lantern and the people below it, her eyes big with wonder. She wore a leathery version of the man's armor, though it was covered by a ratty blue cloak. She had a long wooden box strapped to her back, and a bow and quiver over her shoulder.

. . . Eveline noticed the cold metal pressing against her hands . . .The soft wash of light from the lantern caught her eye, curiously she slowly withdrew her feet from under the messenger, not caring if she woke him in the process before crawling her way towards the tree . . .

Moments after Eveline had turned her back on the platform, something glimmered in the spot where her hands had been pressed. A faint sparkle delicately illuminated an etching that was partially obscured by lichen and vines.

She smiled at her own reassuring thought before giggling spinning around slightly her cheerfulness returning in wake of the dispelling pain and queasiness.

At the sound of quiet laughter, the lantern above seemed to glow a little brighter, if only for a moment.

She pressed her palms on the cold metal . . . After a cursory look over the others, she determined that they would be fine, and stood up, brushing the leaves and dirt that had collected on her body.

It took a bit longer than the first, but eventually a faint shimmer struggled out of a second etching in the metal, where Robin had touched the platform.

She pushed aside the upper layer of vines and traced a finger on a crevice of the calloused bark. It shone a curious white under the purple light, and seemed to pulse with life. She pressed her ears to the bark and listened; the tree was not alive.

With her ear so close to the clinkings and groanings of the clockwork within, Robin might discern that the metal pieces that coursed through the trunk of the tree were rusted, squeaking and ill maintained, as if they had just begun to work after a century of dormancy. Each grind of weathered gears threatened to bring the whole contraption to a halt, but it continued resolutely. High above, the dead branches of the white tree were moving -- one small click at a time.

Eveline reached out finding some purchase in the tree and began ascending the tree, pleasantly surprised she could stand on the mushrooms feeling them give slightly under her. . . . the flower child turned back around continuing her climb up the mushroom, her barefeet slowly turning black from the tree. . . . Eveline did her best to keep to the edge of the fungi, her pale dress taking on the same tone as her skins as the black spores and powder from the plant coated her slightly . . .

Robin shot a glance at the people on the floor, and decided to untangle those that looked to be in particularly uncomfortable situations before sprinting up to follow the girl.

With every shift of weight on the mushrooms, their spores floated imperceptibly into the air, clung to Eveline's and Robin's skin, filled their lungs. The black powder streaked their arms and legs and floated gently down over the platform, disturbed by their quick ascent.

"H-Hello?" He choked out, the pitch of his voice sounding more like a sob than a greeting.

"H-hoo?" an owl responded. It was barely visible, perched above the dangling lantern, half-hidden by a knot of vines. Its big eyes stared down at Elijah in particular, apparently fascinated by his unease -- or plotting his demise. "H-hoo?"

“¡ Si, lo se!” Mia-Canta nodded as she waved her hands, bracelets lining her muscular arms clinked together like desert wind chimes as she tried to speak like those outsiders that came to her family's farm, “Hello, there! How are you today!!”

The owl was thus distracted by something shiny and noisy, and its feathers bristled and its claws kneaded into the branch. It seemed to have forgotten Elijah for the moment, so offended it was at Mia-Canta's voice and sparkly jewelry that so completely destroyed the solemnity of the forest, already tainted by the spread of smelly bile along the platform. The bird huffed and puffed and fidgeted and glared, and did not seem to notice at all that Eveline and Robin had ascended quite close behind it.

She would imagine most would find it unsettling and daunting, this place, it didn't seem like either sun or moon light would ever grace the floors of the forest, the canopy wasn't extremely thick by any means yet it seemed to eat the light for the lantern greedily. . . . 'Such a strange place, how did we get here...' She wondered silently before giggling plopping down on the edge of the fungi, her blackened legs danging off the edge . . .

The lantern brightened again, only for a moment.

Robin stood up and continue her ascent, making her way closer to the mysterious girl, only visible by the light of the swaying, creaking lantern.

Soon Eveline and Robin were close enough to the lantern to see it properly, as more than just a stagnant light overhead. The lantern itself was very old and wrought of iron that was etched with intricate runes and sigils. The etched iron casing protected a warm glass orb -- and what glowed inside the glass was not a flame at all, but something round and hard like a stone or an egg. The lantern hung by a shimmering, delicate silver thread. The thread reached out of the top of the lantern and rose five feet, at the top of which the thread was not tied but buried in the dead bark of a vine-wrapped branch. The owl was perched only a foot above the lantern, its flustered back to Eveline. It rattled angrily in its throat and shifted from foot to foot, its eyes glimmering in the violet lantern's glow. Was it only a trick of the light, or was Eveline's skin turning just slightly translucent?

"There is no home anymore, my lady," the old man croaked, shuffling his armored knees uselessly in the grass.

Those were not words that Anise wanted to hear. She did not want to hear them again. Ever. Her fear and her panic rose and she felt her hope slipping away. No, she couldn't let that happen. She couldn't let this man take her hope away. She'd have to take it back! She raised the night stick with tears rolling down her face. Her vision blurred and she swung down on his head again. That was for her hope. Again. That one was for her fear. Again. That was for her frustration. She kept swinging until the old man no longer moved and then she fell to her knees. She simply stared at the old man's body panting heavily. Something in the back of her head told her she had done something horrible, and yet she didn't feel badly for what she did. She then remembered he had a weapon. A sword. Her father had one just like it. She pushed the old man onto his back so she could get a good grip on the handle and remove it from his grasp. With it, she could save Randold. Yes, save him. That's what she needed to do. Once she had pulled the sword out of the man's hands, she removed the scabbard and belt from his waist. After all, carrying a sword in your hands all the time was silly. She put the belt on as tight as she could and made sure the scabbard was put on, hopefully, correctly. She turned to face the old man's body one last time and spit on it. "I will get home. You won't stop me." She noticed that the young man she had come to help had run off, but this time she wouldn't pursue. If he wanted to run away from them there was nothing she could do to stop him. She finally looked over to Tyaelaem and saw him cowering from something. She glanced over to where he was looking and yet she saw nothing. She looked back at him with a look of concern. By now she could believe that this forest had dangers she couldn't see which really worried her. "Tyaelaem." She wanted to get his attention. "What is it?" Her voice contained both stress and concern. She wanted to help her friend out, she wanted to help all of her friends out. She looked quickly towards where Randold was being carried. While she couldn't see the group carrying him, she knew they were headed towards the purple light. Fear was something that either caused the senses to go haywire, or sharpen. Anise could feel her fear was only serving to sharpen her senses.

The others had fled the metal surface. Up the tree and towards the violent violet light. The hooting owl. The whirring and clicking. Dark eyebrows jumped upwards over hazel eyes as the thoughts in her head suddenly fit together like broken pieces of a lost puzzle. The others fled not because of demons she thought were here, but because of the demons that would come later. For dinner. The whirring and clicking could only be the sounds of the frying pan being turned on. ...But then again, maybe she was meant to follow them, perhaps they really were demons leading her into a trap? Better to find out for certain than to have your soul cooked in the Devil's Frying Pan, she surmised. So MC kept running then slowed up a bit as she neared the edge of the disk. Strong leg muscles tensed up as she lowered herself to assert her leap. Two huge strides she took and with a grunt that was more of a growl, MC leapt upward. Strong arms reached skyward, aiming to catch hold of the edge of those strange mushrooms growing out of the trees. Charms, beads and baubles in her long braids clicked and clacked together. Bracelets, dangling chains and more beads and baubles tinkled and trickled from her arms as she firmly grabbed the fungi's edge. Taut arm muscles bulged, as she hauled herself up and swung a leg onto the mushroom top seven feet off the ground; all this in one fluid motion, her colourful poncho swishing after her. Not very lady-like, Mama would say, but even she would have been impressed with her baby girl's physical prowess. Yes, she was not as graceful as Maria-Dulce nor as well-spoken as Luna-Corazon, but they could not match their little sister's athleticism. As quickly as she stood, MC leapt again and caught the edge of another mushroom and scrambled upward on onto its surface. She looked about and found herself upon a mushroom to the right of where Eveline and Robin stood. A hip bumped out to the left and a hand rested upon said hip. A shy grin she gave them coupled with a wink. With her other hand, she then tapped two fingers to her temple and flicked her wrist in a greeting salute. “¡Como-estas, senioritas...! ¡Encantada de conocerte...! I am called: Mia-Canta Suzanne Risalinda Lasperritas. Pero, you maybe call me MC, por favor? It is easy, no?” Then upon seeing the smoothness of their features neath the light of the violet light, MC had to shield a surprised giggle with her hand, smearing blackness upon her face. 'No, they were definitely not demons... such a fool am I...' If only MC looked in a mirror, she would see just what a mess became of her poncho and maybe she would not be so giggly. But she did not see a reflection right now. No, she saw something else; something worse. Suddenly, all humour washed away from her twinkling eyes, and slowly blackness smeared from chin to where her hand ended its uneasy slide right at the base of her throat. She had noted the colour of the flower girl's skin, or lack thereof, and MC's hazel eyes widened... perhaps the others were demons afterall? MC inhaled slowly and took a step back, and just then she noticed the owl perched above the lantern and let out a surprised gasp. Such eyes, oh such eyes and such a stare... “Hola, Senior Buho... Encantado de conocerte...”she said softly and politely, “I am called: Mia-Canta Suzanne Risalinda Lasperritas. Pero, you maybe call me MC, por favor...?” A shy smile held at her full lips, but she could feel the blood pumping away within her; her heartbeats thumping in her ears. Papi always said there was always one thing to expect from stranger wild animals: the unexpected. And Mama always said demons would always catch up to bad girls... or the other way around. The shy smile still held, but her body readied to move in reaction if need be. Beneath the violent violet light of the silvery lantern's eye, she gave a single slow nod at Mister Owl.

There was darkness for the first few seconds. Then as Talan opened his eyes he was reminded of where he was however as to how he got here was a mystery. He tried hard to remember what happened before he awoke but all he could recollect were feelings of pain and fragmented visions of a struggle. "This nightmare won't end it seems..",he thought as he laid on the ground staring up into the massive trees. To his surprise when he tried to get up he found that he had been bound hands and feet. He struggled hard to break free of the bindings but to no avail. Swiveling his head around he trulied to get a look at his surroundings and found a woman sitting near him, watching him. If this was the one responsible for his capture Talan was quite embarrassed as to the fact he allowed her to get the better of him. His embarrassment was short lived however as it turned towards anger and frustration. He struggled once more to break free of his binds all the while cursing in his native toung through the gag. He pulled against the rope with all his strenght and could feel it loosening ever so slightly but not enough for him to get his hands free. He wiggled over to the girl and once he was close enough began headbutting her leg to signal her to remove his gag. He was acting on instinct now, his inability to get free made him desperate enough to plead with his captors. He hit his head against her over and over until he grew tired and ceased. "If I wasn't bound..", he reveled in the thought of what he'd do if things were different. No doubt he'd teach these people a lesson for putting him through this. For now he'd wait and see what would happen, but not without a back-up plan should things not go his way. He turned his head away from the woman and looked for something to cut the rope. All he could find were a few twigs small enough to be concealed should he lay on his back. He tried as best he could to inconspicuously pick up the twig and while on his back began to whittle away at the rope. This would take time, time Talan did not necessarily have. For now he could only hope that they wouldn't do anything with him until he was ready.

Curiouser & Curiouser

A slight cough, a brief protest from the lungs at the intrusion of the fungus spores, followed by a swift shake of Eveline's head before looking down as the strange jeweled woman started up the tree at a rather fluid place. She titled her head as the messenger boy...err girl...person, she would work at the pronoun later, finally reached her mushroom perch. Grinning brightly she waved slightly giggling before reaching up easily removing one of the flowers from her crown offering it out towards the boy, catching sight of how eery her pale skin looked betwix the black powder and the purple light it almost seemed like it grew as if the light was seeping through it. Her eyes widen slightly as she slowly turned her arm back and forth curiously, 'How strange...' she thought wordlessly before turning her eyes back towards the other occupant on her platform, tilting her head as she observed the boy. He was definitely feminine in feature, and was as covered in the strange powder as she was, the bright red flower in her head seemed untainted by the substance. The sharp angry hoot of an owl caught her attention as she turned her gaze slightly back towards the light, it seemed to be a lantern of sorts, her curiosity growing more and more as she briefly meet the state of two glowing eyes perched behind the source of the purple light. Eveline smiled brightly at it, before the jarring words of the foreigner reached hers, another brief look of annoyance crosses the girls face before turning to look below her seeing the strange woman wave, more so salute the two of them rattling off a rather long name. 'Do all strangers have such long names..' She wondered tilting her head curiously once more, before giddily mimicking the strange woman's salute, debating on offering her a flower as well. She didn't have many, a brief thought towards whether the strange forest held flowers abundantly as hers did or would she have to hunt for them. This place was rather strange but she didn't feel any trepidation at all.

Tyaelaem skittered backward on his hands and feet, and he suddenly looked up, spying something above and behind Simon's head. He shrank and trembled.

Simon had no idea what was making the rabbit act this way, maybe he could read peoples minds. Simon was starving after not having consumed any food for as long as he had been in this 'delightful' forest. Even though he was almost 100% positive that Tyaelaem wasn't a real rabbit it didn't stop Simon from day dreaming, rabbit roasting on a barbeque spit, roasted rabbit soup. Maybe the pirates had a large pot to cook the rabbit in, what was he thinking ... of course pirates wouldn't have a pot, just good old barbeque! Simon realized how much time and focus that he just put into daydreaming about this and shook himself out of it. Man, what hunger can do to a person. Simon noticed that he had dropped his torch and ... OH DEAR LORD. Simons glimmering hope of sight and survival was now lighting the forest on fire. On the bright side things would be a little bit more visible, haha haha he thought in his head. Simon decided to walk over to where Anise was with the pirate and since Tyaelaem was still cowering Simon grabbed the hand of the rabbit and started dragging it along with him. Once Simon got within earshot of Anise he could hear the conversation.

"Tyaelaem is not a demon! He's a friend! He's going to help me get home!"

That was when Simon seen Anise strike the old man with her nightstick! He was absolutely shocked at this since she was just a little princess.

"There is no home anymore, my lady,"

Anise had gone off the proverbial deep-end and started going ballistic on the pirate, beating him until he stopped moving. Good thing she wasn't stronger or Simon feared that he might have stopped breathing. Simon let go of Tyaelaems hand and took two steps closes to Anise before Simon froze with a flashback. He was struggling to remember everything that was said word for word.

Damnnaggin kith ... They think they own the place. Boy, don't ever trust a kith, no matter what they tell you ... You see anybody with a mask on, you put your hands over your ears and you keep on walking, you hear.

Simon looked like he had been hit in the face with a brick. That was when the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Simon was slightly worried about trying to tell Anise this after watching what she did to a pirate with a nightstick what Anise could do to a freaking apothecary with extremely minimal combat skills with a sword that had been looted from the pirate. Despite Simons gut telling him not to disclose the information he figured he could put his cards on the table. He stammered on his words thinking about Anise cutting his head off with the sword. A-a-a-Anise ... I don't think that the pirate was ... l-l-lying about getting home ... Simons blood splatting everywhere while at the toes of a little princess ... that's w-w-w-with Tyaelaems help however

There were only a few more meters that separated her and the girl with the flower crown. With every leap, black dust spring from the top of the mushrooms and coated her skin; she increased her pace, undeterred, and reached the girl.

Robin stood in front of her quietly, unsure of what to say or do; the girl was a bit taller than her, but looked much more lovely despite the similar coating of black on her skin. The light of the lantern seemed to shine through the girl, making her appear luminescent, and Robin could hardly tell if she was in the presence of a human or something else.

Grinning brightly she waved slightly giggling before reaching up easily removing one of the flowers from her crown offering it out towards the boy...

Robin cocked her head and took the flower, feeling completely calm despite the strange situation. She remembered nothing and didn’t know where she was, but trusted her survival acumen to carry her through. She tucked the flower in her pocket, and smiled faintly.

To her side, the owl hooted and ruffled it’s feathers and was making subtle, yet noticeable noises. She pivoted to face the owl and frowned, annoyed by it’s fidgetiness.

“¡Como-estas, senioritas...! ¡Encantada de conocerte...!"

She immediately inched away from the loud greeting and moved to a spot behind the flower girl. The foreigner had reached the platform more quickly than Robin thought she would, and before the she would be forced to interact with the lively newcomer, Robin scuttled away from the two and headed towards the lantern. She approached it slowly, not yet climbing the branch, and noticed that it’s light seemed to be constantly changing in intensity. But it was not the flickering of a flame, but the pulsating of an…orb?

Kituo twitched as he watched the accumulation of monkey-bats grow larger. It seemed that they had yet to notice him. Nevertheless, their presence was enough to keep him at bay. He remained as still as a mountain, his eyes fixated on the crowd of chimeric fiends nestled around the bell. How long would it be before they descended down on them again and wreaked havoc? Kituo shuddered to think but he knew it wouldn't be long. He wanted to run away but doubted that such a futile plan would suffice again. There were so many of the monkey-bats. He speculated they would only manage to corner him with little difficulty if he made a sudden break. Besides, scurrying away so abruptly could potentially put everyone else in danger.

Then again...what did he care about them anyway? He had never seen any of them before a day in his life before arriving to the forest. He owed them nothing. However, Kituo owed himself the duty of making it home alive. The duty of proving himself. He glanced up at the monkey-bat gathering to further assess it. If he moved quietly then perhaps he could pass by without drawing their attention. If they were from the earlier swarm, then Kituo knew they would be more than happy to resume their feast. He pushed the lantern against his chest, its warmth soothing his nerves and he proceeded to tiptoe into the undergrowth, the monkey-bats looming over his head like storm clouds about to downpour rain.

Then something wrapped around his leg and pulled him back. Only, it wasn't an actual object. It was a thought or rather a sentiment. It was guilt. Kituo had already left them behind once to deal with the monkey-bats on their own. For him to do so again was questionable. It was a miracle they all survived the first onslaught. Another swarming so soon might be too much for them. Curse his consciousness. Kituo was just about to make it away free with his lantern when it pulled him back. Forcing his body to turn around, Kituo looked at the other three people and, overlooking the fact that the old man had been knocked down, ripped his lips apart to speak coldly.

"Look up."

While normally his heart fluttered when his nervous, its beat was slow and dragging like the footsteps of a tortoise. There was no way of knowing what was going to come next with this forest. And it was absolutely horrid that it insisted on dropping onto him the same terrors repeatedly. If Kituo were to muster another flicker of hope, it would likely be diminished by the realization that he had yet to truly overcome a single adversity. The lantern had done all of his work for him so far. But just how long could it fight off his fears before its light blinked out?