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They chatted softly for a while longer, Faeril oddly enough being the first to turn in for the night. Though to be fair, Gen had been anything but accommodating to the Black Widow. The Green Jeweled Warlord hated seeing his friend so weakened, especially when she got hit with the recoil from a spell she had patterned onto their last hope to combat the poison that was spreading through the Realm. The mistrust that was the seed and the watering of dark amusements from those in the Aristo caste. Tempted with what they could get away with. Denvar had followed after the Healer-Black Widow to the house they had set up for sleeping. Briefly stopping by Gennar to inform the eldest of the brothers three that Bellinar was not back from his scouting yet.

"Do you think something happened? We should have felt something I would think." Denvar noted as the two of them walked towards the house. The darkness sending a chill across the ruined town.

"He probably went further. Hunting game." Usually Bellinar would return long enough to tell them he had spotted game he was going after. They were always keeping close and keeping an eye on each other, but Bellinar was going on longer outings alone and coming back with goods and gear they needed. Gen didn't want to question his brother, but there was something going on. Had been going on for months now. Nothing ill had come from it, but it worried the Warlord.

Denvar was not a fool, he could sense that worry in the dismissing words. "Gen-"

"We can't afford to worry about it. Bellinar is our brother, and if he's going off on his own..."

"Then he has a reason." Denvar supplied, relieving the worry from his brother's shoulders. "He wouldn't do anything foolish. Dangerous, of course. He is Eyrien. But nothing to risk us or Ashke." Watching Gen nod in mute agreement, Denvar held the door to the small first floor dwelling they had choosen. It was intact enough to offer some decent shelter. A decent pile of blankets from on of the many trunks and the bed was passible. Just a door down was Faeril. While they would rather be in the same room as the witch, they suspected their long time friend wanted her space for the time being. With all the excitement Faeril needed a solid sleep, and their coming and goings would only disturb her. "He probably just has some intelligence in the area and refuses to share it. Some old gran he's been smooching up to."

There was a grunt from Gen as the larger of the two gave his brother a tired look of exasperation. "He does have a way with charming the old folks doesn't he?"

The night wore on with the general shift of watchers through the night. The first up was Xandar, who witnessed little and heard even less. The odd rat scrabbling through the ruins. The odd owl swooping through the ruins before deciding a better meal could be had elsewhere, bats swarmed in and out of their dark dens high up in those buildings that still stood, their squeaks a soft counterpart to the sharp noises of foxes off in the distance. Common noises and movements. Nothing that would cause alarm. Reluctant as the Warlord Prince might be, his watch was taken over by Mikhail as the wee hours began with the moon dipping towards the horizon and there still being no hint of sun. The bats were returning for the night and the odd herd of deer was skittering through the land. Their groups were far smaller than they should be. A hint of the overhunting by those too poor to pay for the food on their table.

A shadow that did not belong, however, slipped through the ruins. Eyeing the box-thing that was called a 'Coach' the tiny creature was not at all large but was very certain what it was looking for was in the boxes that held things that were needed by people and thus he needed them too. Or rather his person needed them. Carefully looking about to make certain the coast was clear and no one was going to be watching, the small dog trotted up to one of the storage-boxes. He was a dusty looking fellow with tan fun and grey specks splattered across him. Noticing it wasn't locked, the sneaky fellow was relieved. One less worry! Not that he was overly worried, his friend has asked him to follow the humans-who-were-in-a-hurry from the town. It had been easy enough with the trail they made! The dusty dog was a bit miffed at the thought it was supposed to be hard!

Nosing the latch up as his friend had taught him, the small dog studied the lid with an almost perplexed look in his eyes. If he used Craft that would be noticed if the humans were looking for Craft to be used, but if he nosed it up he'd make noise. It was not a light lid, after all. Nosing his nose under the lid, he tried to heave the large storage-box's lid up. To no avail. Taking a quick look around, he hesitated slightly. There had been several large-winged humans in the camp and his friend had told him they were very dangerous. Especially the males. Especially the Warlord Princes, but then Warlord Princes were always dangerous. Males were always dangerous. Except for him, because he was a friend and his human-friend needed him. So, with a bit of a worried whine, the small dog set about lifting the lid with Craft. A simple enough thing since he was very good at lifting things with his Craft. Pleased within himself and the fact, he hadn't been noticed as far as he could tell, the small dog hopped into the trunk and began searching through the hodge-podge of items. There were plenty of stuff for his friend to use, but what would be most useful? This would require a bit of thinking, but that was okay! Because no one would be up for some time! The small Sceltie was so very proud with himself as his tail wagged furiously. Every now and then, poking his head out to drop something outside the storage-box that wasn't on his list of useful and was in the way. Happily vanishing a few of the human-metal-teeth he found, he was trying to decide if a delicate and tiny net would be useful on one of the human head-fur pins. He had never seen humans have nets on their head-fur pins. Growling slightly, he hopped up to toss it out, then paused as if in second thought. What if his friend needed it? But he was wasn't supposed to take too much... Taking too much was bad and caused trouble.

As the night fell, Mikhail made sure to sleep a bit while Xandar was the one watching them. Even if he was used in sleeping very little, resting was still good for both his mind and his body. When the time came for Mikhail to assume the shift though, he woke up a few minutes earlier than the time they had agreed on in order to get ready to replace Xandar...
The first hours of his shift were unremarkable. Other than the sounds of the night and the occasional animals nearby such as bats, a few deer and the such, there was nothing really noteworthy. That was until Mikhail felt the familiar sensation of the craft being used somewhere nearby.

Immediately putting up his sight shield and quickly getting up, Mikhail scoured his surroundings, in search of anything suspicious. It was then that in the corner of his eyes, he noticed a suspicious shadow nearby the coach. It was far too small to be a person, but it was undeniable that it was currently going through their stuff inside one of the storage compartments in the coach. Not feeling any other presence around, Mikhail sheathed his his weapons again, silently moving closer to the coach to inspect the mischievous little creature. Surprised, he watched as the tan furred, grey speckled dog went through their stuff, occasionally dropping something out of the box and then putting his head inside again, in search for more things for him to take. Mikhail simply watched, amused as the dog did his thing. Not only it was smart enough to select only the things he was interested in from the bunch of things but it was also able to use Craft to open the lid.

Approaching the small dog from behind without making a sound, Mikhail undid his sight shield as he gently patted the dog just as it raised it's head once more to drop something else.

"Curious little one." Mikhail said, with an amused smile in his face.


"Hungry? Let's see if I can get you something to eat." he asked, looking at the small dog as he made a small mention with his hand, indicating it to follow him.

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Pleased with the selection the small dog vanished the items, much as a human would. His friend would be very please! Now he needed to find some food too, no one was awake yet so there was plenty of time! Wagging his tail with enthusiam at how well things were going, the dusty fellow gave a startled yelp as a hand patted his head. Half-ways jumping out of the storage chest where Faeril had packed clothing, a sewing kit along with several blankets (most of which were in use). Tripping over the ledge the furry creature tumbled head over paws before perking up as wide brown eyes full of innocence stared up at Mikhail, ears perked with interest.

There was a person, and he was awake! The banner-like tail drooped as he considered the trouble he might be in. It wouldn't do to lead that trouble to his friend. It was one of their agreed upon rules. They could hardly afford it after all. Yet the trouble the fellow thought might come never did as the strange paler fellow with pointed ears and strange smells gestured that he should follow? There had been the mention of 'eat' and 'hungry'. Giving happy bark, he trotted after Mikhail. *Food! Food! Food!* Bouncing and dancing about the fellow. It seemed safe enough since this man didn't smell like the 'bad people'. He just smelled like dark things and blood and not with the undercurrent of cruelty that was often following bad people.

Absently Mikhail would hear a voice muffled as if someone was trying to speak through a wall. Leaving a slight trail that pulled at Mikhail's mind towards a 'gap'. If the Dea Al Mon followed the tugging sense, he'd hear the remarkable sound of a decidedly happy Sceltie. *Food! The human will give me food! Good food? Meat food? Green food is good and cheese is really good! But cheese makes my nose feel full. I smell bread and meat and meat and bread! Food! Food! Food! A human who is nice is giving me food! I shall have to tell my friend about pointy ears! I've never seen a human with pointy ears!* The voice was decidedly younger and excitable as the dusty dog bounced and barked happily.

Mikhail couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he saw the items the dog got disappear. He did feel someone or something using Craft but he was still not sure if it was the dog but after seeing now he was sure of it. He had never seen an animal using the craft before but there was simply no denying what he had just seen.

"Calm down, there are people sleeping." Mikhail said with a small chuckle as he heard the strange dog yelping in surprise after seeing him and tripping over the ledge. Fortunately, he didn't seem to be afraid of him, in fact acting quite friendly when he mentioned food. He was undeniably smart.

Judging by it's barks afterward though, it seemed like he knew exactly what 'food' is, and was quite happy, which made Mikhail give a small laugh as he went towards the camp together with his new friend to search for something for him to eat, maybe scraps from the food they had yesterday. It was rather rare to see Mikhail, who was usually incredibly serious or, when in calm occasions, simply calm, tranquil and absent-minded to see him playing with a dog like he was at that moment, indeed a rare side that not many people knew Mikhail had. It was unfortunate that most of the others were asleep though.

As Mikhail was going through the camp searching for some scraps to give the dog though, he again felt something strange, related to the craft, almost like a 'trail', like a faint voice, if someone was trying to speak through a wall or something... Curious, Mikhail stopped searching for a moment, trying to follow that trail with his mind. It was then that he heard a clearly happy and excited voice, that obviously belonged to the dog. It was surprisingly talkative, mentioning that it liked food, meat and green food, that cheese was very good but made his nose stuffed. Even though he did hear about his 'friend' Mikhail couldn't help but to laugh, surprised.

"A Sceltie, right?" Mikhail asked with a laugh, patting the dog once again.

"I never saw one in person... Only heard about. I'm surprised you can use craft though, just like the Kindred from the tales, right?" Mikhail said with a chuckle, looking to the dog with a kind but curious smile before resuming his search for food.

"Would you mind telling me more about your friend and what he wanted you to take to him?" Mikhail asked as he continued the search.

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The dark of the early morning hours caused the hours to stretch and bend in a haunting way, not that the furry little sceltie noticed as the pointed eared man looked for scraps. The tail thawcking the ground with a rapid delight at the thought of food. His friend had warned him that food freely given was not something to be trusted, but surely that was only for the human Blood that smelled wrong. This one didn't smell like that, funny perhaps but not wrong. Hearing the laughter, Dunny (as his name was) sat and tilted a head with an almost shocked look on his furry face. *You can hear! You can hear and I didn't even train you!* There was a slight nervousness in the sceltie's motions as he whined softly. Looking a bit bashful and worried for all his features were canine and covered with the dusty tan fur. *I'm not supposed to talk to you. My friend said talking to humans will lead to trouble.* Popping up on his paws again, Dunny danced about nervously. Circling in tight little circles away from Mikhail before revolving back towards the Dea Al Mon. *But you have food. You don't smell bad.*

Whining nervously, Dunny was horridly torn. He wanted to get food which would be an excellent find between his friend and himself, but he had been warned not to trust people. Even if they smelled nice. But this pointy-eared fellow had seen him snatching a few things and wasn't raising a fuss! So maybe he actually was nice? The tail dropped and then wagged, only to still again as Dunny pranced about nervously. *Bad humans take Kindred because they want them and hurt them. My friend says to stay away from humans because even nice smelling people can be bad humans.* Flopping in the dirt, Dunny gave a mournful look at Mikhail. *Humans have very confusing ways, and you have pointed ears.* Mikhail could find the food easily enough, not far from where it was earlier in the night. Someone, most likely Gen, had stored away what hadn't been eaten and shielded the box with a very basic shield that would not block out people but insects and any rats who got the bright idea to test it.

Mikhail handed over the food to the small sceltie with a discreet smile and a chuckle as the small dog exclaimed, surprised that Mikhail could hear him even though he didn't 'train' him. He couldn't help but to think a bit about the words the small sceltie's friend told him. Whoever it was, it seemed to care about the small animal.

"Your friend is right. Humans are a... very cruel, greedy and problematic race... Most of them are. Taking that which they want by force and destroying that which they don't like or don't understand." Mikhail said, looking to the ground, almost as if lamenting the fact that the words he said were indeed true.

"Your friend cares about you. You should really listen to him. You were lucky that you met me and not someone else this time, but next time, if someone figures out you're a kindred..." Mikhail said, with a serious tone, almost as a warning to the small animal.

"You should be especially careful around those who conceal themselves behind colorful and expensive clothing, who try to conceal the greed in their eyes by wearing jewels and surrounding themselves with wealth." Mikhail said as he continued to warn the small sceltie.

When the sceltie mentioned his pointed ears though, he couldn't help but to chuckle, touching at his own ears. Dea Al Mon were indeed rare around these parts.

"Oh, these?" He asked with a discreet laugh.

"I'm a Dea Al Mon. Most of my race live in Kaeleer. Indeed, It's not common to see people like me so far from home. It's also one of the reasons why some greedy, powerful people, might have some... ideas... if they figure out I'm a Dea Al Mon..." Mikhail said, explaining to the sceltie.

"I promise I won't get mad at you, hurt you or anything, but could you show me what did you take from the coach and tell me why you came to us specifically? There are a few bad people who are currently after us. While I know that you're innocent and certainly wouldn't do anything with evil intentions... Well... It's easier to trust Kindred and Animals than it is to trust humans... No offense to your friend, of course..." Mikhail said, with a calm and tranquil voice, trying to be careful and not frighten the sceltie as he asked that.

"I wouldn't care if some of the stuff you got disappeared too, depending on what they are. I'm sure the others wouldn't notice, right?" Mikhail asked, with a discreet, mischievous wink and a half smile.

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Seeing the food, Dunny sent up a joyous bout of barking as his tail stirred the dust that covered the ruined village into a impressive cloud. Scarfing down the meat while Mikhail talked, Dunny was thoughtful enough to vanish half. His friend would probably be all puffed up and annoyed that Dunny had trusted this pointed-eared fellow so easily, yet how could he not? This one smelled of blood to be sure, but he was being nice and didn't have the stink of 'evil', as his friend called it, about him. Evil was a silly word according to the Kindred Sceltie. There were plenty of acts and things that might not be good, but evil was... Too focused? It closed out the other aspects of life. If you called one human of the Blood evil, then why were they not all evil just because of the Jewels they wore and the status they held? It was an old argument between the two.

Studying Mikhail as he ran his hands over the strange pointed ears that this human Blood had, Dunny nodded with a gleeful yap. *You are Dea Al Mon. Dea Al Mon have pointed ears! They are from Kaeleer!* Which stood to reason what Kaeleer was and where it was. Dunny stored that particular question away as the Dea Al Mon asked another question that had the tail drooping slightly. *I can't tell why...* Dunny huffed, looking a bit guilty before there was a slight feeling of Craft from the edge of the village where the woods was starting to encroach on the once pristine lawns. Whoever was there was hidden in the deep shadows from the leafless branches as moon was setting and the sun was slow to rise- the sky not yet holding a hit of the light that was going to come and soon. *Oh! My friend is here! I will show you again sometime!* Turning to go the Sceltie paused and gave a goofy dog-smile to Mikhail. *Thank you for food!* There was a slight crackle as leaves snapped underfoot off in the dying forest. *Impatient.* Came the amused Sending from Dunny as he trotted towards the figure. *He had good food!* The figure within the deep shadows appeared average height, broad of shoulder and there was a certain sense of 'male' to the figure, if Mikhail were to probe the weaker Jewel- a lighter Jewel.

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Mikhail gave a discreet laugh as he watched, amused as the small sceltie barked in joy as it ate the food. His tail was wagging so fiercely that it was stirring the dust covering the floor. Storing half of the food Mikhail gave him and eating the other half, Mikhail couldn't help but let out a surprised expression when the sceltie mentioned that he knew who the Dea Al Mon were.

"That's right. We all have pointed ears and we come from the eastern corner of Kaeleer." he replied, nodding with an amused chuckle.

The moment Mikhail asked about his friend and what he took though, the sceltie's tail immediately dropped a bit as he said that he couldn't tell him. After a moment, the sceltie said that his friend had arrived. Thanking Mikhail for the food with a funny dog smile, he trotted towards the woods, from where Mikhail himself could feel a slight feeling of Craft, coming from the very edge of the village. As the friendly sceltie walked towards where the strange figure was, Mikhail still could hear it, telling his friend excitedly how he had good food.

Using his sight shield, Mikhail started going after the strange figure, the sceltie's "friend". Probing on to the craft feeling he had felt, he would notice it was a weaker, lighter jewel than his. From the distance, Mikhail noticed the overall silhouette of the strange figure. It was probably a male due to it's broad shoulders. Approaching both of them, Mikhail would try to just stay hidden and evaluate both of them first before making any move. He wanted to know if they were working for someone or if they wanted to just steal something in order survive and know exactly what did the sceltie took from the coach.

The shadows deepened as Dunny trotter towards his friend, drawing closer revealed that the figure was not as Mikhil first thought. Shorter by far, the height was boosted by the massive pack upon the you lady's back. A thick bedroll giving the appearance of broad shoulders. Pale blonde hair that Mikhail would recognize as a trademark of the Glacien race of Kaeleer revealed in part the origins of the boy though the skin was darker and toned to one of the long lived races. "Dunny. C'mon, we got to get afore you get us into trouble." The voice was oddly feminine, though the psychic scent was indeed and dominantly male.

Dunny looked unperturbed at his friends anxious state. I got things! Good things! Oh, and the point-eared-from-Kaeleer-good-food Prince is following me! The sceltie turned his traitorous fuzzy face to Mikhail with a smile. He is nice! I like him!
"Hell's Fires! Dunny!" The voice pitched as the lad scooped up the dog, yanking it away from where the intruder might be. The Sceltie gave a confused whine. What? Where is danger? I dont see danger!
"He is danger you fool!"

As he got closer to the sceltie's friend, Mikhail quickly noticed that the figure was shorter than he initially thought and was carrying a massive pack on his back. Despite the male psychic scent, it had quite a feminine voice. It's pale blonde hair was similar to a Glacien but it's darker skin was one of the longed lived races. Probably a mixed blood.

Just as he finished analyzing the boy though, he heard the sceltie mentioning that Mikhail had followed him there. Surprised, Mikhail raised an eyebrow. He wasn't expecting them to notice him there, but it seemed that the sceltie was much sharper than he thought it was.

"Impressive." Mikhail said with a chuckle as he undid his sight shield and showing himself to both of them, despite the boy's clear panic, having scooped up the dog and telling that Mikhail was dangerous.

"If I wanted to harm you both, I would have already done so. You should trust on your sceltie friend. I'm not here to harm you." Mikhail said as he began explaining.

"I simply wanted to know your reason for coming to us and what exactly did you two take from the coach." Mikhail said as he looked to the blonde boy.

"As I explained to your little friend, there are some... 'bad' people after us and I need to know if you work for them and what exactly were your motives to come to us. And yes, the things you guys took from the coach too." Mikhail said, giving the boy a serious look, but clearly meaning no harm. At least not yet.

"By the way, I don't care for some of the stuff to simply have... 'disappeared' from the coach. Depending on what they are, of course." he finished with a chuckle and a smirk, considerably lessening the pressure from the serious stare he gave before.

The pale haired lad glowered at Mikhail in clear distrust. "We just took some supplies and we don't work for nobody." He hissed, his voice soft as he edged away with the squirming and disapproving Dunny. The latter clearing explaining that his friend had it all wrong and Mikhail was a person who gave food and pats. "And how d'we know yer a 'good' person?"

I would have smelt it otherwise! Came the indignite growl from Dunny.

Mikhail silently watched, analyzing the boy's reaction as he said that he didn't work for anyone and telling they just took some supplies. Even though the sceltie seemed to believe Mikhail was a good person, the boy seemed to think otherwise.

"Simple. If I was a bad person, do you think I would be asking these questions or do you think I would have simply killed you after being stolen?" Mikhail asked, raising an eyebrow, almost laughing at the boy's distrust towards him.

"Besides, it's the second time I said I don't mind if a few things disappear from the coach that I'm guarding and I saw no reactions about that." Mikhail finished, eyeing the boy almost as if silently asking if he was satisfied now.

"I just want to know exactly what did you take from the coach. Depending on what did you take, I won't mind if you keep it. Also, can I trust that you aren't working for anyone?" Mikhail asked with a penetrating stare, analyzing every movement the boy gave, every reaction, almost as if he was reading the boy's very soul.

The boy took a step back nervously looking about, while Dunny looked perfectly annoyed at the situation. The little Sceltie knew his friend didn't trust other and with good reason, but why couldn't he trust Dunny? Dunny liked the pointed-eared Dea Al Mon and Dunny wasn't often wrong about things. Tell him, Thom! Tell him! Maybe he has more food! "You think only with your stomach." Can the retort from the lad, muttered in a undertone. I'm not wrong about this. It's not like that time with the chickens. "Or the cats-?" Or the cats, or the ducks... "Dunny, I aint." It's not like that! "It's exactly like that, it is!" The two seemed rather engaged in an argument as the boy continuously backed away from Mikhail.

Mikhail silently watched, giving both the sceltie, who apparently was called Dunny or the boy, Thom as they argued if they should trust Mikhail or not. While the sceltie was inclined to trust him, the boy was exactly the opposite, going as far as to back away from Mikhail as they talked with each other.

"I'm just here to talk, there is no need to run away from me." Mikhail said, raising his hands in the air just as the boy started backing away from him.

"Again, even though we were stolen, I'm willing to let you both keep what you took if I judge them to be things that won't be that necessary to the rest of the group. I gave Dunny food simply because he looked hungry and I came here to talk instead of simply restraining you and forcing you two to give back whatever you stole." Mikhail said, once again trying to calm the boy down.

"Be reasonable, Thom, trust Dunny, I can promise he's not wrong this time." Mikhail said, purposely using their names.

"And you are encouraging thieves to steal? Perhaps it was you we should have been wary of." The large growl came from the dark shadows of the forest, a hand clamping down on the lad's shoulder preventing the boy from running. Bellinar had returned, and now steered- dragged- the lad towards Mikhail. "What the hell was going on while I was away?" The Eyrien Warlord Prince looked immaculate, if a bit tired and smelling of a woman's sweet perfume. Dunny growled at the large Warlord, the tiny Sceltie looking about ready to take a chunk out of a threat far larger than himself.

The very moment Mikhail had finished talking though, a rather familiar voice sounded coming from further inside the forest. A large hand grabbed Thom's shoulder, preventing him from running and probably frightening the boy to death.

"Come on Bellinar... It's just a poor boy and his sceltie. The boy is probably as hungry as the sceltie was before I gave him some food." Mikhail said, sighing as he replied to Bellinar as he watched him grabbing Thom.

"Just calm down everyone... The boy just tried to steal some food and a few things that were on the coach. Probably to sell to buy food." Mikhail said trying to explain.

Jandar awoke to the sounds of rummaging and scuttling. He peeked an eye open and saw Mikhail headed to the coach…and the dog? What followed were broken noises of conversation. The Prince was apparently talking to it. Jandar turned over, attempting to go back to sleep. Mikhail could handle the animal thief.

Except he didn’t. The Dea Al Mon prince mentioned a Sceltie. Jandar’s eyes opened fully. Could it be a Kindred? If he listened carefully, it didn’t seem that Mikhail was just talking to the dog. His responses soon revealed that the Sceltie had indeed telepathically communicated some things to him. Jandar huffed, lips in undue amusement as he heard Mikhail offer their wares – that the dog had already stolen – multiple times to it.

It was curious. The most cautious person in their party was being lenient and understanding. As the duo moved farther away, Jandar stood up from his bedroll. His previous noble guise had long since been removed, and he was in his usual attire. Well, his usual sleeping attire. Summoning his leather vest and belt, the Warlord quickly put on some overclothes. His boots followed, and then he was off.

By the time Jandar arrived at the edge of the village, the spot in the dying forest the Sceltie had trotted off to, Bellinar was also there, and Jandar barely caught what the Eyrien had said. The Warlord strolled forwards, his gait easy and posture unconcerned. “That was a lot of racket for a would-be-thief,” he commented mildly, looking from the Kindred to the mixed-blood human. He was a strange one; a very feminine sounding boy. Jandar stared at the Glacian, and simply added casually, “You better start explaining yourself.”

He then looked towards the Eyrien with a sweet smile. “Oh, I don’t mind sharing information, Prince. I’d also dearly like to know where you have been and what you have been doing,” he said pointedly, but softly enough that it wasn’t accusatory. Jandar really didn’t want to deal with another pissed off Warlord Prince, after all. “But perhaps we should talk away from these intruders, hm? Mikhail can take care of them. After all, if he doesn’t judge them to be a danger, then they are most likely not a danger,” he concluded.

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The boy's eyes widened as Bellinar trapped him under an imposing hand. Yet as a third showed up Thom's eyes narrowed to slits as he glared at Jandar in wary annoyance for reasons that were not readily understandable to poor Dunny who was trying his darnest to warn the Eyrien Warlord Prince off his friend. Without much success. Bellinar meanwhile just looked annoyed at Mikhail and Jandar. The Eyrien didn't want to release the boy or the mutt. Especially not if they were going to race off to tell tales. "Think perhaps it would be best to let the Queen decide that?" At the mention of a Queen, Thom paled the stark white most Glaciens were naturally. His golden eyes wide with fear. Dunny snarled all the louder. *I do not like him or Queens!* The dusty fellow declared to all four humans about him.

Bellinar stared at the dog with a furious glint of malice in his golden eyes. His wings spreading slightly. "What trick is this?" He snapped at Mikhail and Jandar. It seemed the Eyrien was on the border of arguing about the lad, but as Jandar asked where he had been and what he had been doing, he glared at Mikhail. "Do yourself and us a favor and wait for Faeril to wipe use from their minds. We don't need to borrow more trouble." Shoving the lad at the Dea Al Mon he turned to Jandar with a jerk of his head. Walking a bit away from boy and assassin. "I was taking a look about, I'm the fastest flier here, and women find me charming to talk to." He answered in a gruff voice, his wings tucking onto his back. "I would have been back sooner, but there was a bit of an issue over when I should leave." He gave Jandar a cocky smirk that was so typical of the males of his race.

Thom, however, was anything but full of himself as he shook with utter terror. It was one thing to run into a group of people. It was another thing when those people included a Queen. "Look, we'll give the stuff back. Won't tell no one yer out here. Just don't give Dunny to the Queen." Thom pleaded, his voice rising higher in terror. Dunny had been dropped from the lad's arm as he stumbled. Now the Sceltie danced about Thom's feet whining in worry and slight fear at Thom's reaction. "I swear I- We didn't mean any harm. Was just hungry." He gripped Mikhail's sleeve desperately. Outright pleading with the man. *Thom? Are you hurt? Do we need to run?* Dunny's dark eyes peered up at his friend and the Dea Al Mon. "No, you stupid mutt. We're should have run, but you had to be chatty!" Snapped the boy to the dog, the latter taking a few steps back looking shocked and hurt.

“Mm, looks like the Sceltie is a Kindred,” Jandar casually commented to Bellinar’s snapped question. He then walked a ways from the thief, following the Eyrien. He calmly listened to the man’s explanation, though he wasn’t entirely pleased by it. “I hope you don’t get too chatty with them. Getting information from sex can be a double-edged sword,” he declared, though he hoped he was saying something the Warlord Prince knew well enough already.

“Now, as for our town expedition…” he trailed off, grimacing slightly. “We met SaDiablo,” he whispered. He could have put an aural shield around them just in case, but that would have just drawn unnecessary attention from the Sceltie. “It wasn’t the best of meetings, but no-one died or got hurt too badly. Also, he advised us to leave soon, and the Queen agreed with that suggestion,” he continued speaking sotto-voice.

“That’s the gist of it,” Jandar rolled his shoulders, gaze briefly landing on the thief, his canine companion, and Mikhail. Lips pinching into a thin line, he began speaking in a normal volume. “Now look what you did to that poor kid, he’s scared to death. You don’t know the Lady well enough if you honestly think she’d care about him taking things he needs for survival. In fact, I bet she’d be just as supportive as Mikhail is,” he claimed.

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It was the usual clamor to bed. Deciding watches - Fatima offered to be the first but it seemed Xandar was determined to be as such. She would take the last then. She would do her part. Of that she would ensure. She could not allow herself to be some useless twit of a Queen. And she'd already done enough damage. With a soft sigh she found a dry, quiet corner of the broken village to rest herself. A decaying hut that was far enough away for the solace of solitary but close enough that the men did not throw a fit about it. She sat a while on her blanket and studied the odd flute she had found earlier. She liked holding it in her hands. It felt... soothing. The ridges and notches in the wood allowed her fingers a slight insight to the history of the object. She considered the day as her hands moved over the flute. She considered her wrongs and what she would do going forward. She thought about their plan and what steps she needed to take to ensure the safety of the odd troupe. Of her Court, though it was no where near complete. And she thought about the person who would be a part of it. The dangerous, black jeweled Queen killer that was undoubtably hers. The thought of him caused her to shudder and she vanished the flute before rolling herself up tightly in a cocoon of blanket.

Sometime later she awoke.

Not from sound or trouble.

Not from some sixth sense or the tingle of Craft.

It was because she had to pee.

Badly.

Fatima took some time to untangle herself from her safe haven of cloth; she had managed quite the knot around herself. Once free she did her best to tiptoe out into the wilds of the night. She didn't want to go near the camp, she needed quiet. And a tree to lean against. She found the perfect spot and whilst relieving herself she began to overhear voices.

Shit.

She did not wish to be caught with her pants down, quite literally, especially if it were an enemy. Hurriedly Fatima finished her business and righted herself. Trousers in place, shirt tucked in, and no dribbles. She carefully made her way toward the voices, her bare feet avoiding branches and rotting leaves. Softly, calmly, precisely. As she came upon the scene, it was not anything she could have imagined. There was Mikhail and Jandar. Bellinar. A child. A dog.

Bleary eyed, tired, dressed men's clothing and her hair a fantastic, alive mess which stood out at odd angles from her head- she was the perfect picture of what we in these parts call 'a hot mess.' Not at all Queenly. But she managed to keep her air about her, the birthright that would never allow her to seem as anything but what she was. She was a Queen. She allowed herself to be less conscientious of her tread and approached the group just in time to hear clearly - "...bet she’d be just as supportive as Mikhail is."

"Supportive of what?" She inquired in a voice cracked and raspy from disuse. She cleared her throat and continued in a voice more normal to herself, "What cute pups, could someone tell me what sort of misadventure has transpired while I slept? I always seem to miss the fun." Her tones were intended to sound jovial and joking. The air here was thick with tension and she would not allow that to fester.

Shortly after Bellinar appeared, grabbing Thom firmly to prevent him from running, another voice joined the conversation. While Jandar also wanted explanations from the boy, his approach was a bit better than Bellinar's who immediately grabbed the boy upon seeing him.
Fortunately, Jandar did trust Mikhail's judgement, agreeing that the boy and the sceltie weren't dangerous. Not only that, but judging the reaction the boy had when hearing the name of the queen, he certainly wasn't the type that would work with one. Dunny was equally alarmed upon hearing that too.

"Then we do have something in common. Not exactly a big fan of queens myself, boy." Mikhail said as he looked to Thom and Dunny.

Surprisingly enough, it seemed that the mere mention of the queen made the boy quiver with fear, changing even the way he was acting. Mikhail was genuinely surprised when Thom grabbed his sleeve, almost pleading for help.

"Calm down, boy. We won't take you to the queen. We trust her as much as you do." he said, trying to calm down both Thom and Dunny.

"The boy and his dog are just hungry... They didn't mean any harm nor they are agents of the queen. Just look how the poor boy is reacting merely after we mentioned her. I can take care of it." Mikhail finished, looking both at Jandar and Bellinar, reinforcing what Jandar had said earlier that they should probably talk about what happened in the town away from the boy.

While Mikhail did notice the... peculiar scent that Bellinar had on him, he didn't press him for answers nor cared that much about it like Jandar was doing, going as far as to provoke him a little bit. Mikhail had nothing to do with what Bellinar was doing, as long as it didn't harm his goals.

"At least that worked to our favor in one way or another... Despite the... rough meeting Thom and Dunny had with our kind Bellinar, they should trust me a bit more now." Mikhail said with a chuckle as he teased Bellinar and looked at the boy and the sceltie, nodding to them.

It was at that moment that a familiar voice appeared from behind them, inquiring about what they were talking. Due to the ruckus they were causing, mainly Bellinar, most of the others who were asleep had probably woken up. Fatima was no different as she further inquired about what was happening, in her characteristic jovial, pleasant voice.

"Oh Fatima, good timing. This is Thom, and this chatty little guy is Dunny. I found them going through our stuff looking for some food. Needless to say, Bellinar wasn't as understanding and supportive as I was." he explained with a chuckle. Fatima's presence there was indeed good. If there was someone who could make the boy and the sceltie feel safer and calm them down, that was Fatima.

"Thom, you said you didn't like queens, didn't you? Well... This one is different. One of the reasons why we're not exactly in the best of terms with the others. Would you mind talking with us for a bit. I'm sure Fatima wouldn't mind in sharing some snacks with both of you." Mikhail finished, looking to Thom and then to Fatima, almost as if inviting both of them to go back to the camp and sit down to talk.

Dareen was an expert sleeper.

Some people didn't really understand what that meant. But years of pseudo-military service made the mercenary quite skilled at falling asleep quickly, and waking up at the drop of the hat. It was one of the few things she didn't regret. When she was a child she would go to sleep tired and wake up even more so. Now, she was skilled. Great at it, even. A light sleeper, who could immediately return to sleep once the danger had passed. It was far more magical than any Craft, in her experience.

Dareen blinked her eyes open, watching Fatima literally tip toe out of the house. Some of the others were gone, too. Mikhail was on watch. Bellinar, too? It was somewhat dark. Other than that, nothing but the ambient noise of the old house. Dareen was underneath a blanket, a feather stuffed pillow beneath her head, hood removed, a simple cropped tunic and trousers as her pajamas. Everything else on her had been vanished. What a convenient Craft. Truly a marvel. She didn't know how she'd live life without it.

Well, Fatima was probably just going to take a piss, or something. If anyone saw anything they could easily make enough noise for Dareen to be up and at it.

What a strange dream she was having. Wearing that dress had really messed with her head, apparently, because she had a dream where she was Ranina, and living in a house with Johan. A Johan that didn't look like Jandar, but instead a scruffy looking pot-bellied fellow who ate too much and smiled without it meeting his eyes. So, really, it was more of a nightmare than a dream.

Dareen looked down at her blanket and saw a bug on it. She flicked it off and then lay down on her pillow, staring up at the dark ceiling. Her life had certainly taken an unexpected turn. These people were an odd bunch. Or maybe she had just spent too much time around cutthroats and sellswords and didn't know what real people were like. Yet still, the only person who knew her past was Faeril, who hadn't spoken of it since. All she had done, for years, was kill for money. Now she was fighting for...something else. Why? Not even she truly knew. But she wouldn't speak of it. When Fatima had asked, she learned something about the origin of her intricate tattoos but nothing more.

This was why she was thankful of her sleeping skills. No more of this thinking. There was plenty of boring daytime to do that, nighttime was for sleeping and drinking- and she was all out of ale. It was time to shut off her brain and get some rest. Closing her eyes, Dareen breathed in deep, and in a few moments she was back to sleep.

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Bellinar skipped over Jandar's question as the Kaeleer man noted that he had scared the poor lad to death. Shrugging his large shoulders, the Saroth brother gave a non-commental grunt and was about to reply when the far sweeter voice of Fatima interrupted him. The rebellious Queen appearing in the shadows of what had once been a lush forest. Already Bellinar could see the slight hint of light in the sky. Dawn was coming and with the dawn their departure. Though what would they do with a boy and a Kindred-dog who knew too much? "A boy and a talking dog who know too much and were stealing from what I gather." The Eyrien informed the bedraggled queen with a slight bow. Those his words turned to address Jandar once more. "Though honestly I saw we just wipe their minds- permentantly- and be done with it. We can't risk leaving a trail especially if the Sadist met the Queen." There was a worried look on the Eyrien's face as he gave a great yawn. The man had been up all night and most of the day. Now low on sleep he was feeling the effects of his folly.

The lad, on the other hand, was anything but reassured especially when Fatima appeared. It was one thing for Mikhail to not be a fan of Queens, and yet another thing when he appeared to be a fan of one in particular. Thom wasn't a fool, he knew there could be a draw that a man of the Blood would feel towards a Queen. One that could drive a good man to justify doing very bad things in the name of the Queen. He had seen it before and had fallen victim to it. "You said you didn't trust Queens! None o' them are different, their all the same. Desiring and wanting for their own ends!" Hissed Thom as he shook in positive terror as wide blue eyes stared at Fatima. His pale blonde hair of his Glacian parent hanging limpy around a mask of horror as he gripped Mikhail's sleeve. Dunny taking up a defensive stance between his friend and the Queen growled lowly in warning, his lips drawing back from an impressive set of teeth. Though oddly enough for anyone who had been around the Sceltie for any length of time, Dunny remained silent. His tail tucked tightly between his legs. "We'll give it all back, I swear. Just let us go, Lady." Pleaded Thom, his feminine voice soaring to new heights in his fear.

Meanwhile, Faeril heard the distant noise of a group of voices. Didn't anyone know to keep their tones down? They were fugitives in hiding. Rebels who were being hunted, though not in earnest. Not yet. Opening her blue eyes weakly, the Black Widow-Healer could feel the weariness of using her Craft and the ache of the breaking of her illusion. Sitting up, the Eyrien woman covered her mouth with a yawn as she listened to the not so distant and loud snores of Gen and Denvar. The two brothers still sound asleep so long as she didn't try to leave through the room where they slept, and so long as no one tried to enter. Staggering on legs that didn't quite have the strength to hold her. Faeril limped along up the old and creaking stairs, the wood threatening to rot as she appeared on the balcony where the largest of her race lay. Snoring if she had any thought. Sitting on the hearth of a fireplace tucked just inside the door to the balcony where Xandar slept, she gave the large Warlord Prince a soft jab with a slippered foot. "Prince. There seems to be a racket." She whispered, her voice hoarse.

Jandar considered Bellinar’s suggestion. “That idea does have some merit, but…I don’t think we should trouble Faeril too much. If she uses her power for every metaphorical pebble on the road we encounter, she won’t have the strength left for when it really counts. As for having left a trail…I’m afraid it’s a bit too late to erase our presence entirely. Whether through convincing, kidnapping, or mind-wiping, we just need to deal with this, then leave as soon as possible. Maybe we shouldn’t even wait until morning…” he trailed off, as his Queen had arrived at that morning. Jandar frowned at her bedraggled appearance, but didn’t comment – it was in the middle of the night, after all.

“As Mikhail said, they’re just a couple of thieves,” he reiterated nonchalantly. Honestly, he was getting somewhat perturbed by how very gentle and understanding the Dea Al Mon Prince was being. Did he have a soft spot for kids and animals? Jandar would have never guessed.

When Thom responded, the Warlord turned to the boy with a mild scoff. “You know, on the one hand, I’m impressed there are folk as young as you who can see how fucking rotten this whole Realm is, but on the other, I’m not really surprised,” Jandar drawled at the youth. “But, kid, you’ve lived how long? A decade and a half, maybe?” he asked, tone amused. “You have seen nothing, believe you me. It wasn’t always like this, though it sure has been for a while…at least in Terreille. Just chat a bit with Fatima here and you’ll soon see there’re still gems here and there,” he offered with a shrug.

“If that doesn’t work, we really will have to wake up Faeril,” he sighed, not at all looking forward to exhausting the Black Widow for such a minor matter.

Location: In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador

Xandar has insisted he took first shift, as he wasn’t very tired yet. Most of his day had been spent getting into trouble with the Widow, napping, and cutting down trees waiting for his Queen to return. And, now that she had, all she wanted to do was be alone. The Black Jewel has changed her... He now wasn’t the only Queen Killer in her life it seemed. He was angry. Bitter. Jealous. But even still, he was glad that she was back safe. He wouldn’t try to push her though. The Warlord Prince would leave the Queen alone as she wished, he had learned his lesson about trying to hold her hand through danger. If she was to be a Queen, she would do it her own way.

After the uneventful shift, he reluctantly gave his position to Mikhail, not exchanging any words but simply a nod as he left. After the bad blood with Mikhail he had brought his Queen safely back to him, even in the face of a Black Jewel. The man had balls at least, he already knew that. He started to respect him for that, one of the only people who would even try to talk back to him. He hadn’t seen Dareen much either, but, he would cross that bridge when he got there.

Since the Queen wanted to be to herself, he decided to sleep on a large balcony to himself, sleeping outside of where the Widow and the brothers slept. It was nice, actually being able to sleep and not have to worry about being the only one watching his own back. They were still on the run, being hunted, but at least they were on the run and being hunted together.

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, however, it didn’t take very long for him to get woken up either. He groaned when he felt a swift jab to his bare ribs. He had vanished all his gear and clothing, only a light cloth barely covering his lower half. And, well, as the large Eyrien stood up, the blanket fell off of him and he stood up tall, yawning and stretching as he faced Faeril. He could see her pretty well now, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight.

”Widow. It seems you’re the racket, kicking in my ribs. If you wanted to bed together you could have asked a bit nicer.” he said dryly, half asleep, chuckling slightly before hearing some voices in the distance. He paused for a moment, listening. Some of the voices were familiar, but two in particular were not, although not hostile. But, whatever the situation was, it seemed to be escalating.

”For gods sake, as soon as I walk away, we have visitors, and they’re not dead yet. Pity.” He looked over at the Eyrien woman, looking into her rather bright eyes. ”Well, there doesn’t seem to be any danger as of yet. Do you suppose we investigate? Or, we could just lay here and let the others handle it. If there isn’t any fighting going on, I’m not particularly interested.”

Mikhail silently heard Bellinar's words as he explained the situation, albeit a bit poorly, to Fatima. Despite everything he said and the fact that Mikhail himself thought that his approach to the situation was a bit... violent, he did have a point. The boy and the dog did know too much... The only two options right now was to either earn their trust somehow or to wipe their minds clear... Just as Bellinar had suggested. Jandar, similarly thought that it was definitely an efficient solution to their problem, but indeed Faeril had already used too much of her power. Another point they couldn't simply ignore.

"Despite everything... I do agree that wiping their minds would be definitely an efficient solution. That said, we cannot ignore the point Jandar just mentioned. Faeril already used her power too much. Not only that, but the boy and the kindred are just thieves looking for food. There are three ways we can deal with this situation. We can either earn their trust and be sure they won't speak about us, we can ask Faeril, who is already tired and exhausted to use her powers once again or we can simply... eliminate the problem. Between them, I do think that the first one is the cleaner one, don't you agree?" Mikhail said, looking to Jandar and Bellinar. Even though he wasn't speaking directly with Thom, it was clear that he was giving a warning to Thom. His options weren't many and the one he was trying to suggest him was the better one between the rest.

Unfortunately, the boy did seem to have a poor reaction to Fatima. He did understand the boy's fear though. Fatima was indeed a rather... unique queen. Different from the vast majority.

"Calm down, boy. Fatima is indeed... unique for a queen." Mikhail said, trying to calm him down.

"Besides... It would be easier for us to just do as Bellinar said and wipe your mind clean. If we wanted to do you any bad, we would already have done so. It won't hurt trying to talk with her a bit and see for yourself if she's like the others. Listen to Jandar's words if mine are not enough to convince you." Mikhail said, looking to Thom.

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She should have been less shocked at the vehemence of Thom's reaction. She'd seen it more times than she'd like to count. It was what her kind did to other, it would seem. She put an exaggerated pout on her face and reached up to pat the wild mess of brambles she called hair. "Do I look that bad?" she joked softly. Despite Mikhail and Jandar's assurances that she was of a different sort, she knew it would do nothing to assuage the fears that were rooted deeply in the child's heart. "Jandar, Bellinar, would you be so kind as to set about getting us a nice fry-up started? It is nearly the morning so we should be leaving soon enough as it is. A little breakfast for everyone would be a grand way to start the day. See if you can roust the other please." She turned her attention back to the boy.

Cocking her head to the side she surveyed both him and the dog. She then looked toward Mikhail and silently did the only thing she could think of doing to potentially calm the frantic pair down. Her soft, white gold eyes settled over Thom's blue ones and she gave the biggest, broadest, crookedest smile she could muster. Fatima lifted both hands into the air and performed a passable front flip. Not as graceful as she would have liked but certainly nothing to sneeze at. She turned toward the boy and bowed. Her bow went lower and lower to the ground until she did a roll, flopping onto her back with a very un-lady-like "Mmmph," as she had just about knocked the wind out of herself. To end up on the ground had been her intention. To do it so hard, not so much.

Fatima sat up, rubbing her lower back and wincing. "It's been a lot longer than I'd like to admit since I did any clowning about. What do you think? Was it satisfactory?" Hopefully, that would put him at ease. Dirt all over her back and bum, her hair a crazy bird's nest and she was now in a position lower than he. And if there was one thing she knew about bored little boys, it was that they all managed to somehow be spectacular little gymnasts. Or at least they all thought they were. This would make her less scary... right? But then again, the Queens had a way of drilling the fear of... well... Queens into people.

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"I was woken up." Noted the Black Widow-Healer as she gave Xandar an exhausted but no less devious smile. A rare thing for the woman who took pride in being called the 'Ice Healer' and 'Razor-tongue' by her own clientele at times. Her dark head leaned against the doorway, a testament of just how exhausted the Black Widow was, and Faeril hated it. While she would never admit it Faeril was very aware of her vice of overdoing things a majority of the time. It was a common flaw among Healers where there was a pressing need. With Faeril? It was a point of pride. Of being able to do as much as she could from when she was an apprentice working under her aging Aunt. "You're the one who would have to look into it, being of higher rank than I. She is your Queen after all, Prince." It was a play that was common among Courts, before the corruption and distrust that riddled the Blood. The give and take of power to where it was needed. If Faeril had been working officially as the Court's Healer or Black Widow, she would have been well within her rights to report a problem to a higher ranking member within Court. Xandar wearing the Ebon-Grey Jewel out-ranked her and was a Warlord Prince which our ranked her as well. Though it was rare any male would remind a Black Widow of the latter. "Can I help it if trouble follows our Queen like a herd of puppies?" The Black Widow prodded the Warlord Prince about the drama below unaware of how close to home on the current issue they were discussing she was talking about.

Thom absolutely refused to meet Jandar's eyes, his mother's friends at the Red Moon house had said things were different once upon a time. He knew that abjectly it couldn't always have been this bad, but it was hard for him to think of a time when he wouldn't need to be worried about those around him. Mikhail's urging that he should consider working with them was hardly a choice and brought him from his thoughts. Nodding meekly, Thom's pale hair bobbed in the darkness. He knew the options they were talking about and any option beside working with the group was essentially death. Wiping somoene's mind was the domain of Black Widows. Dark women who wielded powers that could maim a man. Twisted the Blood's ways as much as the Queen. However there was a private line of thought from Dunny directly to Thom, and only Thom. *They aren't like that.* The Sceltie stated simply, a slightly hurt tone coming into the dusty fellow's thoughts. *Black Widows aren't monsters. They are a danger to the Queens, so the Queens hunted them and told scary stories about them.*

"You don't know that, Dunny.* The young lad Sent the thought back to the Sceltie.

*I do.* There was a firmness there that pulled Thom's panic up short. He had already said something to Dunny that he regretted and he could feel the pain the Sceltie felt about that, yet Thom couldn't bring himself to soothe that hurt. During their conversation, Bellincar had bowed sharply to Fatima moving back towards the camp, seeing himself as not needed. Even an Eyrien warrior such as him would be tired after pulling an all-nighter of extraneous activities. Some food, which would serve as breakfast for the others as well, and then he'd take a rest. So it was that the Tiger-eyed Warlord Prince missed Fatima's little show of tumbling about. Which left Thom and Dunny staring at Fatima in stunned silence. Thom's jaw dropping open slightly. As she finished laying on the ground in grand amusement with herself, Thom was at a loss for words and fleetingly forgot his fear for once. Dunny, however, was no so loss for words and with much aplomb danced about the prone form of Fatima excitedly. *You play! You are a good Queen! You make funny noises and smell nice! Do you tumble around a lot? Do you play fetch? Do you like telling stories?*

"Yes?" Thom squeaked himself in answer to Fatima's question, finding one word. The rest having fled his mind when faced with the whirlwind that was named Fatima Damiana.