Take the money. Join a guild. Kill monsters. Why wasn’t anything ever as easy as it sounded? Why couldn’t Matteo just be part of a big party--maybe ten or fifteen people much more qualified at what they were doing--and just coast along, throwing a punch or two or stealing a rabbit here and there? Why was he the one wrestling in a muddy stream with a goblin pinned under his arm and a brand-new machete wound just yet another tally on the list?

How discouraging.

He thought he must have screamed again as the first blow connected with his skull, but he couldn’t be sure. Somehow he withstood the barrage, brain shuddering under the sickening reverberation as the little monster struck again and again. He felt like stars were exploding behind his eyes as he reeled from the counterattack, grip starting to slacken despite himself.

Thankfully, Ash’s shouting gave him something to come back to. Words for a bruised brain to process, orders for a numb conscience to follow. Keep him down, keep him down. He wasn’t the strongest, but they’d taught him close-quarters combat. With the creature’s knife gone, the two were on the same level. He didn’t have to overpower it. He just had to hang on. His grip around its waist tightened, determined not to let the muddy waters grease the goblin’s escape. “No--you don’t,” he panted, barely able to string together words. Wouldn’t it be easier to just...

”And always commit.”

Matteo screamed again when Ash slashed down at its throat.

The goblin blocked her attack. The goblin was not dead. Muu couldn't believe it. The pain in her hand didn't matter. The fact she likely saved Ash escaped her mind. Instead...

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!" Muu cried out in annoyance, pain, and anger. This wasn't what she wanted. Not what she had expected. Somehow, deep inside her, the prospect of fighting was an exciting thought. But this? No... this was... not what she had envisioned. It was wrong.

"AAAAAAAHHHH!" It did not stop, her fluffy and big scarf making it quite difficult to strangle her, the girl let go of her blade. Falling to the ground, with the goblin on top of her, she couldn't even feel its sharp claws pressing into her flesh, or maybe it just made her that much angrier.

Grabbing the next best object she could feel, likely a stone, Muu tried to hit the goblin with it. "DIE YOU GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT!"

Everything hurt. The human skull was one of the toughest bones in the body, and a goblin’s true physical might was still only that of a child, but everything still hurt. It was bursting down the base of his neck now, the spikes of pain that reverberated through his cranium. Nausea and dizziness were basic annoyances compared to the blood that was pouring over his face like a mask as the naked beast pounded with a frenetic pace, muddy waters splashing everywhere. He must have blacked out once, twice, maybe even more. It felt like an eternity.

But he committed. Matteo held on. Tight. Unbudging. A dead man’s grasp.

And the violence that Ash brought to reward his dedication ended everything in what must have been only a few seconds. The first slash cut into the goblin’s wrist as he lifted it up to block the blow. The second slash did as well. Then the third. Fourth. Fifth. Cutting away until fat coated the blade and she cracked through the arm and pounded away at the throat until thick redness bulged from the throat that bled internally and a dark, nauseous crimson spilled from the monstrosity. He gurgled, struggled still for another five blows, and then slowly, painfully, grinded to a stop. Monstrous as he was, he was so much smaller in death than he had been in life.

It was the deathrattle of his ally that made the goblin hesitate in his bareknuckled assault on Muu, giving her the opportunity to crack a stone against the monster’s skull. Blood spurt immediately from the wound as the green-skinned freak tumbled off, and Muu could have sworn she felt something give away at her blow as well, but though she braced herself for a renewed attack, the monster turned tail and fled instead, bounding away on four legs into the bushes. He couldn’t win, after all, not in these circumstances.

A “Wuoracc wuoracc” sounded while he tried to escape, the only noise left in the scene outside of the blood dripping and the lungs heaving.

In the fire pit, charred wood crumbled and crackled.

Do they pursue?

Ah.

It worked.

Tired from cleaving, Ash huffed and huffed. The urge to vomit filled her throat as she weezed and huffed, but she refused to. She tried her hardest not to. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths in an effort to not get sick. Not a single thought crossed her mind. Huffing like a kid at fat camp, her body feeling like it was going to give out. She opened her eyes to the decapitated goblin.

It was less disgusting than she thought. The deer was much worse. Even the rabbit made her feel worse. The goblin was, instead, coated in enough red to conceal most of the damage. There were no organs to touch and deal with, blood to let, or anything. It was simply a corpse. It was a mushy, blood covered body with no life.

And that was it.

There was no point in dwelling on it. As much as Ash wanted to rest, she couldn't. Looking over to Muu revealed the other goblin fleeing. The three of them were, technically, safe. If Ash had more energy, she could have nocked an arrow and fired. She couldn't spare enough energy to reach for her bow.

Her machete coated in a thick viscera, she instinctively dragged it across the riverbed. She had no interest in carrying a blood-soaked machete with her.

"Let's... take what we can... and get out of here."

Matteo didn’t remember the goblin dying. He was sliding in and out of consciousness, no longer fully aware of where he was or what he was doing even as the machete blade cleft its way through the creature’s neck. Just hold on. It wasn’t even a thought in words, just an urge, a remnant of something his battered mind had once assumed important enough to cling to. He clung to the small monstrosity as its life left its body, and he clung to the body its life had left, and he crushed the headless figure untill his fingernails cracked under the tension. Through his wavering eyes, the world swam with thick colors indistinguishable from the blood which stained the stream around them.

It was dead, and he still held onto it. Stubbornly. Stupidly.

He must have finally blacked out-- he came to choking, mud and water dripping from his nose and lips. The Thief didn’t even have to look down at the carnage before his stomach heaved and bile spiked in his throat, shoulders heaving as he retched. He would not pursue the other goblin. He would be lucky if he could pull himself out of the stream without help. Even after a week of painful experiences, the combined force of his injuries now swelled. Between heaves, his breath hitched as waves of lightheadedness pounded at his skull.

He barely acknowledged when Ash spoke. He didn’t even remember speaking. “Okay.”

The cold water numbed his bleeding fingertips, but somehow his hands still moved. They began to shake unconsciously as bits of broken nail felt clumsily over the headless corpse, seeking compensation, before he felt at the bottom of the streambed for the fallen dagger.

All it took was a single hit for the goblin to flee. The brunette stopped registering what her companions did as, way too slowly, she got up on her feet too. The rage was still burning, the adrenaline still pumping. All Muu wanted was this thing to be dead, dead, dead.

Trying to give chase, the girl didn't get far as she tripped on some roots. Get up. She thought to herself. Get up. Get up. Get up. Get up! But her body refused and, instead, slowly calmed down. They were safe. No longer had to fight for their survival. Her entire body hurt yet, it wasn't the worst.

"..." Curling herself into a bloodied ball Muu felt like she wanted to scream, but ultimately ended up just quietly sobbing.

Ash cleaned the blood off as she tainted the streambed, but not the fat that clung on stubbornly still, yellow and white mixed with pale chips of bone and tendon. Matteo’s own hands bit against his blade as he fumbled through the murky, bloody water for it. The pain was neglible though, compared to his skull splitting headache, and after a few times, he was able to sheath the knife into his belt once more. Muu, by the dying embers of their firepit, sobbed quietly, her show of weakness unbothered by whatever other monstrous denizens wandered the wilderness.

Off in the distance, the “wuoracc wuoracc” of the retreating goblin continued to sound, growing fainter and fainter. Their enemy was leaving. They were allowed this moment of peace amongst the stench of cooked rabbit, ashes, and blood. So the trio, for all of Ash’s directives, did nothing.

And as their blood continued to flow, as their injuries worsened, as their flesh turned paler and paler, they could just barely hear it, the “hraccc hraccc” of another monster’s cry.

They had yet to leave the woods, after all.

Breath in, breath out. The nauseating exhaustion that slowed her began to subside. Adrenaline that had been empowering her had faded and she was left with a heart that felt as though it was going to pop out of her chest. Her leg began to hurt even more. How she pulled through was a mystery to her. However, now wasn't the time to rest. The wilds wasn't their ally. Not now, anyways. Who could imagine what kind of monster cleaned up these scenes?

The duty of collecting their precious loot had been relegated onto the exhausted Ash. She wasn't really able to find much. There was probably a rusty knife between where the goblin had died and where Ash was tackled, but had it been thrown off it would be nigh impossible to find. The mostly decapitated goblin had some dirty metal earrings, but they were just that. Dirty metal earrings. In fact, Ash wasn't really able to tell if they were actually metal. If she just cut the ear off...

No. Experience was enough. Ash still had enough money to eat. What was most important was getting back to the church and getting healed.

She turned to Muu. Broken and despaired, Muu had collapsed crying. Ash had walked up to her and gently placed her right hand on Muu's back.

"Hey," she softly whispered, "you did great. Everything's going to be okay. We need to move, though."

After a quick and gentle rub, she held her right hand out for Muu.

For a moment Matteo wondered-- as he had before, during the darkest hours of his Thief training-- if it wouldn’t be easier to just die. Give up. Spurn whatever force had whispered that Awaken into his empty mind and return to that cryptic slumber. The stress, the pressure, the encroaching menace… It’s too much. I can’t. I just… can’t. He didn’t care. He just wanted to close his eyes and sink to the bottom of the river, let the waters drown out the sounds of Muu’s quiet sobs and the approaching predator.

...But it wasn’t safe. Lethargy was a luxury. Fear was stronger than despair and shock. At the end of the day, underneath concussions and moral quandaries, Matteo was not a Thief. He was hardly even human. He was just an animal--no better than the headless beast they’d slain, fighting for his life.

Fear quickened his blood, but not his mind. His vision was still distorted, deluded, and the bedraggled youth barely crawled over to the two girls from the streambed without sliding back into the tainted waters. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sickened by the faint taste of rabbit. Blood dripped from his fingertips. “Hate to… bring it up…” he muttered, swallowing heavily as the world seemed to spin around him. Pardon me if I’m not feeling as eloquent as usual.

Taking short, shallow breaths to make it through the rambling thought-- never mind the pain-- he continued “Something’s… coming. I think. Ash, how do we… lead us away from here… we have to…” To run, to hide, to lose whatever it was. Fighting to stay calm, to stay clear, Matteo delivered his last sentence. “We… might want to hurry.” He wouldn’t run away without them. Not when it might mean making himself an even bigger target, like wounded prey splitting off from the group to be picked off.

Muu's head was full, yet blank. A chaos in a void. Questions. Self-blame. Insecurity. Anxiety. Paranoia. Why I am here. What am I doing. What will the others think. I'm not strong enough. I don't want this. I'm horrible. Please don't look at me. Look at this scrub drowning in self-pity.

With each passing second, Muu could feel herself drifting further and further. Maybe if she pretended long enough, the others would just walk aw-

It was warm. Her voice soft. There was no malice, judgement, or hatred in Ash's voice. With a sob, Muu slowly lifted her head and looked up. Had the girl always been so bright? She was right though, they had to move. With a weak nod, Muu grabbed Ash's hand and was ready to move on.

They moved on. Ash took the vanguard once more, but Muu, for all her tears, was the one who travelled the fastest amongst them all, her own body the least injured. She lent her shoulder to Ash as they both trailblazed, the huntress’s leg damp with blood, a fresh spike of pain shooting up with each step. She could feel it burning, the flesh becoming feverish. Behind them, Matteo stumbled as well. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have been capable of running anyways, not when his headache continued to drill buckets of nausea into his lower intestines. Moving was a necessity though. They were leaving behind a trail of blood for any curious monsters to follow, but moving was still a necessity. If they took another break, they wouldn’t be able to get up again.

Forward. Onwards towards death and rebirth, as nails drove themselves one by one into the casket. Around them, the forest darkened, the sun setting early in the mountainous region around them. More nocturnal predators began to stir. From somewhere, they could hear the chirping of a dozen hundred bats taking flight. From somewhere, they could hear the hunting cries of beasts. And occasionally, they could hear that same guttural ‘hraccc hraccc’ that had sounded fifteen minutes ago, a whole eternity ago. If they tried to pick up the pace, they wouldn’t be able to, no matter how slowly they currently did. The part of their brains that unleashed adrenaline could not force those numbing, accelerating chemicals into their bodies.

This wasn’t a sprint. This was a grind. And they were losing precious light, precious blood, precious warmth.

Ash’s experience with the wilderness would teach her, at least, that they had maybe an hour left before the sun would become obscured by the mountain ranges of the west. A small comfort of sunlight, compared to the more pressing problem that was the fact that they had been romping around the forest for far too long now, having not stumbled across a single path.

Another way of saying this?

They were lost, all memories of the path they had taken to get to the river having been wiped away by the trauma of the ambush.

So they fled. Stumbling, bleeding, withdrawing into themselves due to emotional and physical shock. The usual first-day syndrome. Near-death syndrome. Death-still-not-out-of-the-question syndrome. No, the shadow of the group’s mortality seemed only to lengthen as the sun dipped lower in the sky and the forest-- dark as it had seemed before-- only grew darker.

Matteo’s desperation to stop and rest-- anything but this grueling pace with no clear direction-- was still second to his desperation to survive, however. If we stop now... well, that monster might still catch up to us. He was painfully used to the dark after his training, fortunately, so the fading visibility was at least a lesser handicap compared to his other addled senses. As dusk encroached, the Thief became attuned to the forest sounds around them. It felt almost like paranoia-- for every warning trill or distant cry, Matteo’s head shot up reflexively and he felt his world spin and stomach lurch, the throbbing behind his eyeballs growing stronger. Pain tolerance he’d been taught, but pain endurance? Ugh...

He was in bad shape and he knew it, but they had to keep going. If he stopped now, he was as good as giving up the will to live. And don’t think it’s not on my mind. He trusted Ash to get them through the forest even in the dark, and if she couldn’t… well, even as injured as he was, he was reasonably sure he could hide himself if it came down to it.

So barring any directional sense-- or sense at all, in his current injured/befuddled state of mind-- Matteo began to talk. “They were a lot… harder than I thought. It would be. Don’t you agree?” He trudged along, cradling the arm in which the broken arrowhead was still buried. “We certainly got one, but more… how do people do it?” All that talk about cannon fodder and insurance, and in their wounded state… well, Matteo didn’t feel like they were ready at all. “I don’t… know where we are anymore. But all rivers lead to the sea, don’t they?” Was that really true? It seemed right. “Maybe if we follow the stream, it’ll lead back to Andeave. Or at least we’ll know we’re not going in circles.”

Circles or not, he still felt loopy.

A cripple. That's what Ash was. If they were attacked by a group of equal size, then it would be practically confirmed that they would perish. The chance that they would be followed by a goblin was, in Ash's head, unlikely. What was a bigger risk was wild animals. Bears and wolves had acute senses of smells, Ash thought. Especially bears. Her mind kept wandering. It kept the pain off her mind. She was used to it, she told herself. She didn't know why she kept on telling herself this, but it was what little warmth she could find in this cold, cruel situation.

Ash understood where she was going, more or less. They headed west, towards the mountains. To return, they needed to head east. AKA, their backs to the mountains. The biggest issue was the waning daylight. It was dangerous at night. She had to keep it in her mind on where the moon rose and stars appeared. They would be their guide at night. Andeave was on the coast, so as long as they could reach the sea, they could find the city.

Matteo opened his mouth to mutter whatever that concussed brain of his was thinking. Ash would have preferred to listen to the suspicious sounds of nature, but the stress of an odd noise every so often made her want to avoid listening to the forest.

"They... were more experienced," she quietly uttered, "but we beat them with numbers and dumb strength." The win, Ash had thought, was completely hollow. Pyrrhic, even. But she learned something. Matteo had muttered something about how adventurers worked. "The issue is us. None of us did what we were supposed to." Recollections of the fight fluttered in Ash's mind as she tried to analyze what had happened. "I have a bow, but had no room to use it. You have a dagger, but you were caught by a goblin. Thief isn't... isn't just a fancy name. I'm not sure what a Blade Dancer does, but the point stands. We all did the same thing there. What I'm saying is, we need more people. In MMO terms, we're running a ranged DPS, a melee DPS, and an assassin as melee DPS. We'd need a tank to take the heat off of us, an off-tank to protect, and - most importantly - a healer."

She delivered the final word in a sardonic tone. Not out of malice, however. It was more because she was in pain and having a healer would have abated it. Matteo continued his comments, this time about getting home. "Rivers don't just flow to the sea. They flow into lakes and other rivers too. As long as we have the mountains behind us, we should reach the sea."

Forward. Forward. Forward. As the two girls supported each other, with Matteo behind, all Muu could think of was getting home as fast as possible. The sole thought of getting closer to their goal with each step she took was the one and only driving force that made her body move. Sure, physically she was less hurt than the other two, but mentally? Not even Muu could tell.

Thus, she comfortably dismissed the grim possibility of being surrounded by complete darkness. Of potential goblin pursuers that would have likely no problems catching up to them. Or even the likely scenario some menacing animal could make their life even harder. She just had to move forward. To the safety of the city. It was in that direction, right? Right?

It became a lot harder to blank out all of this when Matteo started to talk, however. Apparently trying some sort of small talk to alleviate the situation? Well, he did a really terrible job at it upon mentioning how he was lost and how they'd MAYBE reach safety. For a moment, Muu stopped in her tracks. A mix of frustration, fear, but also anger boiling up inside her as she clenched her one healthy hand. Although quickly decided to just keep moving, grimmer than before.

When Ash joined in, however, the brunette also became incredibly confused. MMO? DPS? Off-tank? If not for the seriousness of the other girl's tone then maybe Muu could have brushed it off as some sort of insider joke. But, considering her wounds, Muu now asked worriedly. The raven-hair got hit the worst after all. "A-Are you okay? Do you see any weird colours? Strange sounds?" Muu had no clue what people went through when they hit their head too hard and started hallucinating, but likely something along those lines?

Ash was right. The stream did lead to a small, murky pond, and they soon had to pass through, this time using the mountains to guide them. But as the shadows grew longer and dusk turned into night, even going in a straight line became a challenge. It was a new moon, the blackness so suffocating and vast that none of them could really see where they were headed at all. Constantly, Ash’s leg pounded with agony as the terrain shifted high or low, or a root or a rock caught her foot. In one particularly bad case, Matteo bumped headfirst into a tree, and it was all he could do to stop himself from screaming as he crumpled and nursed a fiery headache that struck back with a vengeance.

And as the path began to wind and wind and wind, soon even the mountains that they trusted faded into the background, melting into the night and leaving only vaguely foreboding patches of darkness that cut into the starry sky. Now, the night was in full force. Now, the terror was seeping into their bones. Now, that primal urge for light, the urge that caused their ancestors from millennia ago to smash rocks together, roared into their skulls. They were bleeding. They were exposed. They were lost. Ash had realized too late that the true geography of the wilderness around Andeave had been that of coastline circled by a mountain range.

The blood continued to flow, taking with it their ability to concentrate.

Then, in the distance, to their right, they could hear it. The ghostly howl of a lone wolf, echoing through the woods and silencing the dozen critters that roamed the wilderness. It was requiem and it was celebration, it was a high pitch that arced up until it fell into the dirges of a bass growl.

It was haunting, and it was beautiful.

But it was a beast, nonetheless.

Maybe it was just the concussion talking (if anyone was seeing strange colors and hearing strange sounds, it was Matteo) but Ash’s words made some amount of sense to him. Strategy. Balance. Even overlooking acronyms like DPS and MMO, which seemed to stir up some murkiness in the back of his head, the word Healer on its own deserved merit. Healer. Ah, I’d sure like a healer. He could have been a healer.

The word bent around his brain, bitter and tantalizing. In the wounded youth’s delirium he fell upon the thought, chewing it over, drowning in hindsight. He should have taken more time to find out about the guilds, learn about the mechanics of these life-or-death parties, scouted out the playing field. If only he hadn’t bought that guide from the Silver Moon office, which he didn’t even read all the way through. I would have had enough money then. I could have healed this arrowhead in my arm, and these scratches, and my head, and fixed my glasses…

When the howl resounded through the woods, a low, rattling moan left Matteo’s mouth as if in response. All his politeness, his conversation skills, his thoughtful approach to any given problem had been stripped from him like daylight from the dark woods. “Let’s climb a tree,” he said sluggishly, then “Never mind, that sounds too hard.” Then, rethinking what it might be like to have his organs pulled out by wolves, the dark-haired Thief shuddered again and said “Maybe we should.”

Maybe we should…

As if continuing that thought, slowly (head still spinning) Matteo said “Maybe we should...do what we’re supposed to. As you suggested, Ash.” She needed distance to shoot her bow, right? Well, Matteo needed cover to attack without being seen first. He made up his mind, wrapping his stinging fingers in a piece of his old jacket to protect them. “I’m going to climb. Muu, I would like a boost, please.” His crisp declaration was somewhat ruined by the fact that he mumbled and ran into the timid girl in the dark, inadvertently stepping on her feet, but his point still stood. They could follow him or not, but getting up high was the only advantage against a wild beast he could think of.

I'm fine, Ash had answered. She wasn't anywhere close to fine, but that's what she told Muu. The path back to their new home had been lost. When the sun rose once more, they could simply walk towards it to reach the coast. The night, however, was the greatest obstacle. If something happened, they couldn't run. Though, with the exception of Muu, none of them could run in the first place. With the howl of the wolf, Ash began to think. Why did the wolf howl? If it had been on the hunt, why wouldn't it stay quiet?

"Just... stay together. It's... one wolf."

It was a wolf. Ash's mind said she would be safe. Predators didn't like risk, she thought. They wouldn't attack humans unless they were starved. Was that really the case though? They were attacked by goblins. What would make a wolf different? Would the morsel that Ash had offered to the forest act as a blessing, or would it be discounted as it had been offered during daylight? Ash's mind was full of questions.

She just wanted to get back to the church. Then, the pain could go away, she could eat, and finally sleep.

"Y-You don't sound f—" Muu flinched at the sudden sound of a howl. Hadn't the fight against the goblins be enough? Didn't they deserve a long, long, moment of peace and tranquillity? Apparently not. The howl seemed rather distant though, so they would be okay, right? Right.

With the party unvoluntary stopping, Muu more-or-less fidgeted around as she perked up her senses, making the surrounding scenery just that more frightening. The boy's suggestion didn't sound all that wrong. They were safe...er on trees, right? But how were Ash and Matteo supposed to get up? Oh, of course...

"Owh!" Clearly not appreciating Matteo's clumsiness, she nonetheless complied to his request. "B-But aren't wolves usually in packs? Or if it's a very big, bad, wolf!? I think a tree is safer." She pretty much whispered the last sentence, nonetheless ready to help Ash up as well.

Even with a boost granted by a girl who was much stronger than she looked, Matteo’s ascent up the tree was still dodgy, only one of his arms being of any use for pulling himself up. He swooned occasionally, almost falling off the branches he used as footholds, and other times, he had to hug the tree with his legs and slowly inch himself up. More often, the youth was forced to simply stay where he was, his limbs shaking, his clothes soaked with sweat, trying to summon up more strength from a body so thoroughly exhausted. It was just one wolf, but they were all hungry and tired, and it was fear that gave him the extra boost he needed to reach eight feet off the ground, braced against a large branch with his feet dangling off.

All of Ash’s own comments were overruled by her party members, and when safety in numbers came hand in hand with climbing a tree, the adrongynous Ranger had no choice but to ascend as well, her one injured leg shaking as she was hoisted up by Muu. After reaching the first noticeable branch, however, her own muscle training, biceps developed from days of pulling bowstrings, proved sufficient. It was a shame that she didn’t have the grace or speed of Muu, but Ash ascended without much trouble once she put her mind to it.

For all her whispered rambling, Muu was able to climb the tree with ease alone, her acrobatic training as a Blade Dancer coming to play here. Though the darkness of the new moon made it hard to accurately bound from branch to branch, her arm strength was tremendous and her body weight was negligible. Within a minute, she passed Matteo, and slotted herself higher up on the tree than him, breathing easy, waiting, resting.

The howling had long gone, but as they waited in suffocating darkness, they could hear the rustling of leaves, the soft growls of a beast. From the brush, golden eyes emerged, transposed upon a gleaming silver pelt that seemed to give off its own light, irrespective of the new moon and the faint stars. This was no starved loner, no deranged beast. Its plentiful muscles rippled beneath the glossy fur, and it stepped with a gravitas, restrained violence and savage dignity. For a moment, it sniffed, turning its head up towards the three shadows nestled amongst the branches.

Then, it stepped over to the base of the tree, laid down, and closed its eyes.

Soon after, the sounds of the nightly forest began once more, insects and chirps and cries. But all three soldiers could smell it. The thick rustiness of fresh blood, coming from the creature that laid beneath.

Surprisingly, Ash still had the strength to make it up the tree. Safety, more or less. If they were in the tree, they were safe from whatever was on the ground. Unless those things could climb. If they could climb, then the trio was more or less a meaty fruit waiting to be plucked.

Could bears climb?

It didn't really matter right now, did it?

Vivid recollections of her training reminded her of the danger of the wilds. Wolves were, in every way besides thumbs, stronger than humans. This wolf specifically, as hauntingly beautiful as it was, was strong. They had a good sense of smell, didn't they? It could probably tell that they were in the tree. It could probably just wait out the three. But the wolf slept underneath them. As if to say 'you're not even a threat, even if I'm defenseless,' the wolf had begun to rest beneath them. It was probably right, too. The trio could barely deal with two goblins wielding a shoddy dagger and wood club. A wolf would, without a doubt, slaughter them in a fight to the death. The only way they could win was if the wolf decided that fighting the trio wasn't worth the effort.

But that was if the wolf was a threat. If the wolf had been an ally spurred by Kur-Innus to protect the trio, then it was most likely the only thing. What were the chances of that, though? This wasn't some fairy tale land. This was reality - twisted and cruel, but reality nonetheless.

Right now, Ash just wanted to rest. Her wound had mostly clotted, but the blood loss still made her mind fade.