Flin had been sitting on the bench with his eyes closed, debating between falling asleep or overhearing the conversation with a grin on his face. When Neale mentioned that his entire caravan had been killed and that he'd been injured by one man with a hammer, his eyes flashed open and he rose from his bench. He did wonder what was within Marilyn's pocket, but it was none of his business. He headed towards Zay, Noru and Neale. He leaned against the wall, peering at Neale with great curiousity.

"Apologies for interrupting, but what you spoke of peaked my interest. Just how frighteningly strong was that man, exactly? What is he capable of, and how did he look like?" He asked, crossing his arms. He looked more serious than usual. He was trying his best not to storm the man with questions, but the fact that one man could kill an entire caravan and injure a captain like this was almost unbelievable.

Neale looked up with Noru, and Captain Copp spun around to face him.

"What happened to formal introductions?" Neale barked, "You running a Caravan, or a circus here, Captain?" Zay looked back at Neale and breathed heavily, stifling a chuckle.

"Pardon the boy - This is Second Lieutenant Flin Meeru," Zay whispered, "But allow me to reaffirm his curiosity. For a single man to take out an entire Caravan is hardly a believable little tale." Zay turned to Flin for a moment, and motioned with his eyes for the man to sit down next to him. Neale rolled his eyes. Noru did the same.

"I don't know who it was, but he wasn't alone. It was a full-scale ambush. Happened too fast for anyone to react," Neale groaned, "I remember it pretty clearly though. The whole Caravan got toppled out of nowhere, like a colossal crashed into us. Two knight were killed on impact - Lieutenant Keflar Broke her neck and our pilot, Lieutenant Jones was crushed underneath the Caravan after getting tossed out of his seat. Jones would've been the one to ask about that what and the how."

"Toppled a Caravan?" Zay said, skepticism ever so thick in his voice, "How about that! So we've got a hammer-wielding nut job playing golf with Caravans, do we?"

"Captain," Noru said sharply, glaring at Zay. Neale looked down at his feet angrily. Zay immediately regret his mockery, even though he doubted Captain Neale's story.

"I told you, nobody could see what was happening outside. The wall cracked, and we were tossed. That's all I got."

Flin smiled at Zay and nodded, appreciating the fact that he wanted him to sit down. To him, it was a sign of respect. He ignored Noru and Neale's eye rolling as he took a seat. "Apologies, Captain Neale. I wasn't prepared to formally greet someone whose life I helped saving." He retorted plainly to Neale. He glanced over at Zay for a moment, and looked back at Neale. "Although, Captain Zay did the most. Might have saved our own lives, too. With all due respect, sir, you could be more grateful." He stated, looking back at Zay. "I know I am." He added.

"Let's look at the facts. Your caravan was knocked over, and you managed to limp all the way to our caravan. Surely, you must have managed to see the man who struck you up close with a hammer. How did he look like, and how many men did he have with him? What clothing or armour did they wear?" Flin asked.

Ebony waded through the deep caves perpetually. Low light was no obstacle for Ha’Kul and his ilk; the same applied to his firstborn, Za’kul’s eyes pried open with a conscious of their own. Falling into his eyes was as much illumination his eyes could muster. A grunt, a hard exhale. Transitioning from sleep into the waking world was as jarring from Lok’Sha as it was for normal humans. When he gathered himself, he rose.

Strapped to his chest was his bandolier. On the cave wall some feet above where he slept were his three weapons of choice: twin battleaxes and his two handed greathammer. The work of the morning had not to do with weapons of war, but greeting his father and then forging. That was the course of most of his days. Not long after Za’Kul awoke, so did the other members of the tribe. It did not take long before Za’kul had made his way toward his father.

Ha’Kul--chief and patriarch of the Low Kul tribe, among the weaker and more disgraced tribes in this land of rock--sat by the Hearth Stone which was the heart of his people’s protection. In his father, Za’Kul saw himself, a flash of greed; in this way he was more his mother, a taker. His father was a good man, cunning; good, cunning men did not survive long without relying more on their cunning than their goodness in Lok’Sha. Goodness had to be snuffed, buried--and that his father did well, at least the members of his tribe knew no different. Outside, however, Ha’Kul the Low could not fool the other chieftans. They knew he was weak, they just didn’t bother to stamp out the Kul because they were--in the words of the Great Shaka tribe--”ant.”

Za’Kul had intentions to change all their minds, whether it be war or peace. Finally in front of his father, he put one fist over his heart and spoke,

“Pa.”

As Caravan Centaurus slowly closed in on the Baeshri pass, the hills were beginning to stir again. Only a sharp eye would catch it, but the sounds were too clear to mistake. A low buzz hummed across the open hillside, its origins unknown. But it was getting closer. Unfortunately for those inside the Caravan, it wasn't loud enough to pierce through the outer walls. Marilyn looked to her right briefly, but was dragged back to the Venbu. They stirred anxiously. The pilot had to keep her mind focused, otherwise the entire cart would have been plunged into a ditch.

"This one's got a mouth on him, Captain," Neale grunted. Zay rubbed his forehead. "What I saw doesn't help in the least. They were wearing various clothes, stuff you'd see anybody wearing outside the walls. None of 'em wore anything that associated 'em with any Nation I'd ever heard about, and none of them looked familiar." Neale reached for his injured shoulder. "The guy with the hammer was a lot bigger than me. I could point his giant ass out in a lineup easily, sure. But unless I see him again, that information ain't worth a whole lot is it?"

"Not unless we come across them ourselves," Noru whispered.

"I doubt that'll happen. They wouldn't have followed me through the entirety of Baeshri. Probably thought I was as good as dead. If it weren't for Katelyn I wouldn't have made it as far as I did..." Neale's eyes went wide. Noru cringed at the mention of Katelyn's name.

"Katelyn?" The dark haired medic gasped.

"Aye! Katelyn! Katelyn Vestabar!" He rose his head high and tapped the bottom of the bunk above him again. "Eugh.." Zay cocked an eyebrow back curiously. Noru looked away from the men subtley.

"Remember something?" Zay asked.

"She was on toppa' the cart when we got toppled. It's a little fuzzy, but she's the one that gave me a chance to flee. Killed at least one of our attackers easily! I think the guy that crushed my soldier was forced to engage her." Neale covered his face with one hand. "She held her own easily, too. I don't understand how though! Girl was timid as a bunny. She specialized in soul and elemental magic; Invisibility, stealth, making armor, repairing the Caravan, that sort of stuff. I'd never seen her hold a weapon before in my life!" Neale's breathing began to rapidly increase. With both hands, Noru leaned in to catch him before he fell forward. It only took him a moment to identify the trauma that was cause for such a reaction. "S-Sorry," Neale wheezed.

"I know that girl," Noru hissed. Zay glanced at him in surprise.

"Oho? Old lover?" the Captain teased. Noru shook his head.

"No. She was a Paladin."



The runes lining Low Kul's Hearthstone pulsed timidly with a ruby glow as Ha'Kul entered the final steps of his daily ritual. Arcane symbols, prehistoric in their origins when compared to the technology and advancements of the most prominent Nations, began to fill with a more brilliant light one after another. It wasn't long before the entire stone was set aglow with a spell that hid the Lok'Sha from the presence of the subterranean terrors.

"Boy," Ha'Kul groaned, lifting himself off the ground quickly, "Morning bring us strength." Several other Lok'Sha emerged from their sleeping areas. Some slept in crevices, barely blocked off by carved stone. Others used the thick pelts of Venbu to drape their families in tenting. Regardless of how they chose to house themselves, the Low - Kul Tribe was small enough that even a single cavern could house not only their people, but their forge, Hearth site, and tribal walls with ease. There were several tunnels that lead away from the tribe. Some were used daily by nearby Tribes to access different parts of the cavern, while others lead to hunting grounds or the surface. Unfortunately, the Low - Kul, despite their minimal scope, sat right on top of a major Nexus leading further up towards the surface levels of Ruliman. The gate in question saw very little use. Rarely would the Tribe that bottle-necked their only way out, the High - Wor Tribe, allow for travel to the Deep Tunnels above. Only in the most desperate of times, on days when Chieftain Wor'Boa was feeling particularly generous, could anyone cross his wretched line of defense. Even Berserker Priests of the Deeper tunnels saw trouble when met with his law. Some hoped for a day when Lu'Li'Po would correct these injustices. But it was the unfortunately truth, that she did not concern herself with the dealings of Dark Skins in the tunnels under Ruliman. Until Smor'Gen'Blok reached an Age of true unity, Low tribes would be forever condemned to darkness.

"Ju'Kul wishes to speak soon. I will stay with Hearth."

Flin listened closely to the conversation. 'So, a big man with a hammer. What a detailed description.' He thought sarcasticly. As a Paladin was mentioned, his eyes widened. "A Paladin...? On your Caravan?!" He questioned, with clear shock in his voice. He always looked up to Paladins and their Divine magic. Honestly, anything magical related that he couldn't do interested him. "She was a paladin, and didn't wear the proper uniform or announced before hand that she was one? How odd. Why would that be?" He muttered.

Lyullia yawned as she watched the countryside lazily go by. Sure, it was nice to look at, but after a while it was starting to get boring. Always just trees, plants, etc.

She considered grabbing her book and resuming where she had stopped, but doing so would mean nobody would be keeping an eye on what was going on. And Lyullia knew that that probably wouldn't end very well, especially not out here only a short while after a previous attack.

Sighing, Lyullia returned to keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. She wouldn't have to wait long however, as soon she noticed a buzzing noise. At first she thought it was just a bee, but then as it slowly started to come closer, she became less and less confident that it was just a bee.

Standing up as tall as she could to get a better view, Lyullia looked around, hoping to spot whatever was making the buzzing noise before it attacked.

"You're asking questions I can't answer," Neale grunted, "Paladins in Arcadia don't go stomping around all willy-nilly, and Yvette has an air tight record of the Order's holy knights. She would've known about Katelyn, and she should have filled me in as well!"

"She wouldn't have known," Noru corrected Neale rather quickly, "...Nobody knew of her identity except for me and Father Exodus, or so she'd claimed."

"You sound awfully close," Zay teased.

"With all due respect Captain," Noru looked Zay in the eye with a profoundly angry frown, "Please shut up." Zay leaned away from Noru's glare like the man had pushed him back with some kind of magic. He deserved it. Even if the Captain remained doubtful of Neale's words, that didn't give him any grounds to mock a dead woman. Still, it made no sense to him. No man should have survived a romp through the Baeshri hills with an injury like that. A straight path from the Southern trading route was at least a couple of hours away on foot, after all.

"You're telling me Miss Eridal, Lieutenant Colonel Eridal, did not know about Katelyn's alignment with Maeti?" Neale growled, "The fact that you wouldn't report an unregistered paladin is tantamount to treason, boy." Noru flinched at Neale's comment.

"I'm in no position to explain myself. Despite my allegiance, I honor my debts, especially to those who'd play a part in saving my life. You'd do well to do that same." Noru sneered and crossed his arms.

"Is that a threat?" Neale planted his good arm on one knee and began to push himself up, but Zay moved his foot up towards the man's gullet and kicked him back into the bunk. "Just as I thought! You are running a circus here!"

"Call it what you want. We saved your life. I feel there are more pressing matters to consider than who was familiar with miss Vestabar. I'm sure her father and the head of the paladin order both played a part in concealing her identity, for whatever reason. Remember that she was the one who saved you, not the one who damn near tore off your arm," Captain Copp said irritably. Neale groaned in pain and rubbed his shoulder.

"So we're to ignore the woman's presence and write it off as political mystery then?"

"What?" Zay chuckled, "No! Don't be an idiot. All I'm saying is that we shouldn't immediately assume any malign intent behind her being there." Noru nodded along with Zay's comments.

"It may not be relevant at all, to be perfectly honest," Noru added, "The group that attacked you is an entirely different beast, far more fearsome than the creatures that hide in the wilds."

Outside of the Caravan, the buzzing quickly grew and became much clearer. Lyullia couldn't discern its origins, nor would she spot the creatures making the noise immediately. Before that, one of them zoomed towards her with reckless abandon from above. But as it made contact, she felt nothing. Not a single thing. It flapped its little wings as it sat in place, recreating the little buzz that accompanied its flight and giving away its presence. Turns out, that buzzing was merely a little purple dragonfly, finding respite on Lyullia's shoulder for a moment, likely after quite a long trip.

Marilyn was met with a similar entourage. Three more dragonflies stopped nearby, landing on her beret, the benches nearby, and the railing around her. Soon after, the entire Caravan was covered in the little purple bugs. Marilyn smiled as they approached her and gave them a little wave.

Flin listened closely and glared at Neale when he became more agressive, keeping a close eye on him. He really didn't like this man. Not only had he not shown any gratitude for being saved by them or by the Paladin, but he tried to raise his hand towards Noru as well. Of course, Flin didn't like Noru in the slightest, but Neale annoyed him more right now. He wasn't about to let him attack one of his fellow caravan members, even if Neale implied that he was a traitor. He sighed deeply when the situation seemed to calm down. "Noru, did Katelyn tell you why she wanted her identity to remain hidden? If she did, would you be willing to tell us?" He asked calmly. "I know you made a promise to keep it secret, but her cover has been blown now, anyway." He added. "And the fact that there's a giant man with a hammer that can topple caravans and take on a Paladin really worries me."

Noru paused for a moment and stared at Flin blankly. He wanted to say something, but nothing he could share would help unveil the situation at hand. The man finally shook his head. "Of course not," He huffed, "We weren't familiar with one another in the least."

"We shouldn't concern ourselves with this attack one way another," Zay interjected, "When we return from Marrenfall, I'll submit my report and let Yvette deal with the situation. We have other things to worry about." The Captain yawned and rose from his seat. Neale lowered his head reluctantly in agreement. "There's no good in investigating any further on our own, is there?"

"No. No, I suppose not," Neale agreed while laying down on his bunk. Not another word left his mouth as he turned to face the Caravan wall. "I should rest, anyways."

"You should," Noru grunted. Zay made his way outside right afterwards, showing no interest in furthering the conversation with a casual wave of his hand. When he spotted the sudden influx of dragonflies outside though, he went rigid like a statue. A chill crept up his spine as he climbed up the ladder leading upstairs, shooing away dragonflies that rested on the handlebars.

"The hell is all this, Lia?" Zay said quietly, tip-toeing past the bugs that covered Caravan Centaurus' roof.

Flin nodded, and rose from his seat. "Alright." He simply said, and wandered off towards where he'd been earlier. He wanted to sit down again, but stopped himself as he noticed the purple dragonflies. "Huh..." He muttered. Something seemed off, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Was he just being paranoid since the event with the maw hounds? He leaned against the wall nearby, and decided to simply observe the creatures for now.

Lyullia freezes as the dragonfly suddenly lands on her shoulder. It takes her a few seconds to realise that, in fact, it's just a dragonfly.

Smiling, she cautiously sits down, trying not to squash any dragonflies as she does so, amazed by the insane amount of them while wondering whether or not she should alert someone.

Fortunately, Zay soon arrives and Lyullia gives him a wave. "I honestly have no idea. They all just sorta arrived here. Are they dangerous or are they just dragonflies?"

To his father Za’Kul knelt with his fist still pressed over his heart. He rose and spoke,

“I go. You rest.” Ju’Kul, the informal second in command. Smor’Gen’Blok’s tribes had no formal ranking system besides the official chieftans, and within the tribes themselves there were those who were respected enough to hold positions of power. Ju’Kul was one of his father’s oldest friends, though he was nowhere near the same age as his father. Lok’Sha remained in their primes until he died, and Ju’Kul--among the Low tribes--was respected as a warchief, but more for his leadership. An old Lok’Sha tale long circulated around the Low tribes about Ju’Kul’s stand against an army of Maw Hounds with nothing but a rock. The truth of said legend was doubtful indeed.

Za’Kul, nonetheless, aspired to be like him. In age--and everything else, if he was honest with himself--Za’Kul was nearly everyone’s junior and was sometimes treated as such. Unlike many of the other races of Thoris, 30 was near infant. For Lok’Sha especially, one did not reach their ‘prime’, they were always in their prime. Their bodies only got better: faster, stronger, more durable. Blood of four hearts blessed Lok’Sha with physical gifts unparalleled in all the land, and they were a hearty and ignorant group because of it.

Morning lingered, Za’Kul prepared himself for the day by making sure he carried his small armaments--his two battleaxes--with him. The Great Warhammer was for massive battles and sieges, too cumbersome for quick travel. Navigating the system of the Low Kul’s respective cave was not difficult, theirs was miniscule. To the surface is where Za’Kul planned to take his people once given the chance; he would subdue the Shaka and the Wor if necessary, he was tired of looking up at them--tired of having to prostrate before them because they had numbers and connections. Alas, there was nothing he could do but wait for a miracle.

It didn’t take long for Za’Kul to find Ju’Kul. Again with his fist over his heart, he spoke,

“Ju’Kul. Strength. Pa send me. What work for today?” he let his arm fall to his side, the blood red of his eyes fixed directly on the man who had been like an uncle to him.

Zay glared at the small creatures with a hint of doubt, but their surroundings seemed to be fairly calm. "I think we'll be fine," He responded, swatting a few of the creatures away from him as they tried to land on his head. "Can't say I'm a fan of these things though."

Caravan Centaurus continued down their path without any delay, powering through the harmless swarm of dragonflies that continued to gather around them. Zay glared at one of the bugs on the railing, and it seemed to glare back. The captain couldn't help a smile. Most of the creatures in Thoris were intent on harming humanoids, regardless of how small they were. But there was something alluring about the little guys. They didn't look like they could hurt anything.

---

Ju'Kul turned from the forge and clapped his hands free of soot. Even beside his brothers and sisters, the man was a specimen among Lok'Sha. He was a massive collection of muscle. Nearly ten feet tall and wound tightly in a ridiculously thick layer of skin that shared its ashen hue with charred rocks. From the base of his neck, to the corner of his left shoulder, a row of rivets in his flesh marked where he had allegedly been assailed by the terrifying beasts of the wilds. Above, his skin looked almost seared, scarred in such a way that simply wouldn't heal. It was uncommon for Lok'Sha to be scarred, but not unheard of. Even the might mountain people with skin of stone were not capable of hiding scars that marked near lethal injuries on such a large scale. Ju'Kul wore it as a badge of honor, as did many other men and women in Smor'Gen'Blok. To survive an injury the brings one close to the precipice of death was nothing to look down upon. Not all Lok'Sha thought like that though. For one, a scar brought honor. To another, it meant only shame.

"Bruddah!" He roared, clapping Za'Kul's right shoulder with a heavy smack of his free hand, "Good to see! Morning brings too much stress, too much weight." Ju'Kul motioned past the chief's son towards the other side of the Low Kul Cavern. He turned back to his workstation for a moment and hefted a backpack over his shoulder. It was jagged and lumpy, likely full of some type of ore or stone, but Ju'Kul didn't say a word. "Come, we walk. Business today with the Wor."

Ju'Kul's workstations, one of the larger forges that many used with his permission, sat right between two tunnels that lead away from the hearth stone. Many Lok'Sha from other tribes would use those tunnels frequently once the afternoon rolled by. But for a man to pass by this early in the morning was unheard of.

Which is why Ju'Kul almost tripped over his own feet when he was met with a woman skirting between him and Za'Kul, moving from one tunnel to another. Ju'Kull staggered back and glared at the girl. She didn't apologize. Apologies were rarer than diamonds in Smor'Gen'Blok. Instead, she glared back at Ju'Kul angrily and hid something within the bundle of clothes that she carried.

"Early for travel," Ju'Kul murmured, shrugging off the woman's temperament.

After a period of time, Ilruvae woke up from a dreamless sleep, about five minutes before eight, and did a quick warm up to wake himself, both using magical force, and a physical warm up, walking up to the top floor and noting the dragonflies, with a slight hint of suspicion. Probably wanted to eat his flesh or something.

He gave a salute to Zay up top, leaning on the railing, avoiding the dragonflies “Reorting for watch, Captain. Did I miss anything while I was out?”

Zay looked like he was about to pass out. Several dragonflies had turned him into a perch against his will, lining both of his arms and the full breadth of his hair. There were even a few of the little creatures crawling up and down his back, and nestled on the edges of his shoes. If he made one wrong move, a few crunches were sure to follow. Captain Copp turned his head carefully towards Pyra, careful not to disturb his visitors that he'd so vigilantly tried to shake off throughout the evening.

"Nothing important," He mumbled, "We've reached Baeshri pass and should be back on course within a few hours." The rugged fields thoughout Baeshri hills were much more uneven along the pass. There was a massive trench that ducked at least 20 feet down into a pit of jagged rocks on the edge of the road. Opposite to that however, a forest of trees hugged the edge of the pass. They were getting thicker as they proceeded, to the point that it was becoming impossible to see past the first few rows. But there were very few bushes or foliage, and the tops of the trees were not nearly as thick with leaves as those found around Arcadia. If they weren't so tightly packed together, one might've been able to see the sky clearly from underneath their branches. "I could use a nap. Do me a favor and spook this little bastards. I've been leaning against the railing like this for nearly an hour now." He turned his head slowly towards Lyullia. "You may want to get some rest soon too. Marilyn's going to need to stop by 3 AM, we'll need several people fully away until morning."

Back inside the cart's common area, Noru had already put himself to sleep in his bunk. Neale also looked like he was fast asleep, but it was hard to tell with his body turned towards the Caravan wall. Marilyn was starting to get a little dazed as well, but she maintained her focus perfectly.



Several Myti were gathered together on top of a massive rock that jutted out of the hills, overlooking the pass like a leaning tower of sorts. It was large enough to conceal their bodies from anything passing below unless they peered off the edge, and wide enough to block the moonlight from above almost completely. At least 20 yards of almost sheer darkness rested underneath it, hiding two more Myti near the base of the stone where the trench was shallowest. The forest opposite to the makeshift cliff held a couple more lingering assassins, both of whom had taken cover in the treetops. They wore cloaks that changed color and didn't move an inch. In total, their combined forces numbered seven. What each might've been capable of was another story entirely.

Sasha opened her mouth slightly and sniffed the air. They were downwind from their target, and had plenty of time to prepare for Centaurus' arrival. From where she stood atop the massive stone spike, the makings of their target were starting to become visible on the edge of the horizon. Clutching a Psy-Stone in her hand, the Myti alerted her squad to their arrival.

One of the members climbed up from the trench and placed something in the dirt. A small black stone with green veins of Mana flowing across it like webbing. She methodically buried it in the dirt, so that only the keenest eye would notice her handiwork. It was positioned just outside of the stone spike's shadow, and further concealed by the natural darkness of the late evening.

The Myti in the trees pulled something out of their cloaks and readied themselves, aiming directly into the darkness with one hand nestled next to each of their cheekbones. They closed an eye, each focusing predominantly on a specific spot, a few yards ahead of where the rock was buried.

Those above drew their weapons one by one. Daggers, a short sword, and two clawed gauntlets, all while abandoning their cloaks and crouching low to the ground. The very last woman in their squad remained concealed by the based of the giant spike, while her partner ran back to her side and placed one hand on Myti's shoulder.

"All set," Sasha's voice blared through the squad's minds like a confident siren, "Be ready for anything, sisters. Do not let Ria's death be in vain."

Flin had relaxed after the five minutes that he'd been observing the dragonflies. They did not seem hostile. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit." He said. He walked away and decided to sleep in his bunk as well. With Pyra back up, he felt more at ease to sleep. An Eldi wasn't to be underestimated, after all. If something did go wrong, surely someone would be screaming soon enough. After three hours had passed, he was still soundly asleep. "Best sound mage...heh..." He murmured to himself in his sleep.

Something tiny and prickly scurried across Daelin's nose. Despite somehow having slept through the yelling and arguing between the guest of their caravan and its members this little purple bug had stirred him. Daelin swatted away from his nose as it floated across the room. He sniffled as he lurched back up and rubbed at his bleary eyes. "Hey Captain! Why are we letting these things in? They're nothin' but bad luck." He complained. These violet dragonflies were seldom seen but from what he'd heard they meant something bad was coming. Kind of like the volcanic firebugs that floated around an impact area days before an earthquake or an eruption. Rare but consistent little buggers.

Daelin lurched over the side of his bunk, dangling his legs and yawning. "Might as well get up." He muttered, popping down on to the floor. He moved toward the rations to grab a snack and paused. Perhaps it was the dragon flies that were humming around the caravan or the night air moving in but something was making the hair on his neck stand on end. He didn't know what it was but he'd learned to be paranoid when his instincts told his something was wrong. Sometimes he was wrong, but he would rather be wrong than dead. Daelin had survived years of this for a reason. He grabbed himself a piece of jerky regardless, placing it in his mouth and half-chewing it as it stuck out the side.

The crossbow he had used against the maw hounds earlier was nestled against some of their heavily secured supply crates. Daelin picked it up and pulled a few bolts out of the same crate he'd used earlier. He took them to the front of the caravan and looked out into the dark night over Marilyn's shoulder. Daelin started trying to say something that came out as more of a garbled yawn before he actually said it. "Notice anything off? Something's bugging me." He prodded a pair flies from his shoulder and continued. "An' it ain't just these flies. Nothing in this blasted place does something without a reason. These dragon flies have an agenda. I think they know something we don't." He concluded.

Marilyn looked back at Daelin with a profoundly doubtful expression, with one eyebrow cocked so far back that it stretched her tired eyelid wide open. "You think the Dragonflies have... An agenda?" Her doubt melted away and she burst into a giggle. "That's outrageous, Daelin. Does everything with a pulse or a wing beat put you on edge? They're harmless little bugs!" One of the dragonflies landed on Marilyn's hand and looked up at her with several babies nestled on its back. "Some of these smaller creatures are attracted to the smell of humans. They're very common on farmland at night. Considering we're riding something that's surrounded by humans night and day, I'm not surprised!" Marilyn stopped herself and looked forward with a sharp turn of her neck. "You should drop by a library some time. It might make you a little less anxious." The Venbu stirred slightly, but Marilyn put them right back on track with a tug of her wrists. The dragonfly on her hand flew away and buzzed off into the forest.

"A library?" A look of consternation crossed Daelin's face. "Yeah, no can-do on the library." He looked away from Marilyn out into the darkening night. Daelin looked like he was holding something else back on that subject. "I prefer to experience things rather than read them."