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The Plains; Meanwhile...
Topic Started: Sep 30 2013, 01:12 AM (1,575 Views)
Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema sat on a small boulder high on the mountainside. She often came to the grazing lands to calm herself down after having another argument with Gand, the elder of Ranae. Reema was not a member of the small mountain village of Ranae, but she spent much of her time there since it was one of the only villages with grazing lands so high in the mountains. As Reema sat on the rock, she watched four or five graceful unicorns slowly wander over the field of grass below her, each looking for the best spot to graze on the sweet grass of the mountains. She was seated so far away form them that she could only distinguish them by their blue horns, which shone out like sapphires against the dark green of the grass. After a short time, Reema tired of watching the unicorns, and took out her favorite stiletto. She began to sharpen it, watching as the light from the fading sun glinted off the blade and the three small red stones set in the hilt of the slim dagger.
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 4 2013, 01:34 PM.
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star-dreamer

Nolan looked out from the mountainside at the valley below filled with unicorns. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. Oh, I'd hate to think what Shaina would say about this... The thought of Shaina gave him pause. Last he'd seen the Unicorn, it'd been at the Council in the Laenil. Dakore was leaving for Iban at the time to look after Nillanah's son and daughter until they came of age, and he'd volunteered to be Dakore's source of information from over the border. Thenial had offered the aid of his owls, and of course both Dakore and Nolan had accepted. It was difficult to deny Thenial on a normal day, but the ease and stealth with which the owls could pass info from one person to another was uncanny and indeed helpful. Shaina had offered his services as guide once Nillanah's children were ready.

Clearing his head of the memory, Nolan started his way down the mountain and into the valley, nimble as a mountain goat. Doubtless these unicorns were not like Shaina, but it'd been ages since last he'd been at rest among the peaceful beasts. He needed the rest. The long trek north through the pass of the Three Sisters had taken its toll, and every muscle in his body ached with fatigue.

Stretching down to place his feet on a ledge below, he suddenly stopped. Someone was watching him; he felt the eyes. Pressing himself close the cliff face, he reached down with his free hand and felt for the handle of his knife. His clothing, dust filled and worn, would serve as some camouflage against his watcher's eyes, but not much... and it would be hard to fight against an attack (if it came) while hanging from the rock by his fingertips.
Edited by star-dreamer, Sep 30 2013, 02:00 AM.
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema's head shot up as a shrill cry of pain reached her ears from the valley below. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she had not noticed the unicorns acting strangely. As she quickly bounded down the steep slope, her eyes took in more of the scene. The unicorns were bunched together in a defensive ring, their sharp horns ready to be driven through the first wolves to attack. For wolves there were; a pack large black wolves of the mountains, hungry and ready to kill. The cry of pain that had first attracted Reema's attention apparently came from a younger unicorn, who she now saw in the center of the ring. It appeared that one of its legs was injured, and it was unable to walk. Reema's jaw tightened as she sped down the almost sheer cliff face, and her eyes showed ruthless anger towards the wolves attacking the peaceful unicorns.
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 4 2013, 01:35 PM.
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star-dreamer

Nolan heard the pain-filled scream erupt from the valley bellow, and it was all he could do to keep from looking down. His eyes scanned the cliff around him for the watcher he could feel but not find. He saw the figure dart down one of the mountains, almost opposite him, but he couldn't make out many of the features... only long, dark hair flying behind.

But the strange figure wasn't the source of his unease. Scanning the cliffside once more and coming up with nothing, he chanced a look down into the valley. Large, dark creatures were circling the unicorns, darting forward to snap at haunches and hooves, only to be driven back by the animals' fierce horns. The unicorns had positioned themselves in a defensive circle around a smaller one. Nolan allowed his gaze to focus and saw that the small one was injured... he couldn't see how.

Stones clacked to his right and his head shot up, but he could find nothing. He looked back down. One of the dark creatures had lifted its head at the noise, and now he could make out what it was; a wolf. The beast's gaze landed on Nolan, and its teeth bared in a vicious snarl. It stalked forward, hackles raised, a predatory light glinting in its eyes.

Fear rose in Nolan's chest. He quickly tamped it down. He couldn't panic now, or he was as good as dead. He didn't know what the wolves up here were like, but the ones who roamed the Laenil were as fast and agile as mountain lions, and as fearsome as bears. He had to move; he wouldn't stand a chance otherwise.
Edited by star-dreamer, Sep 30 2013, 02:53 AM.
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema had reached the bottom of the slop and was sprinting across the grass when she saw a wolf pull out of the pack. With t grim smile she pulled a long, thin knife out of her belt and threw it with stunning accuracy, still running towards the bunch of unicorns. Her ears were gratified to hear a yelp of pain from the wolf, and a glance told her he was staggering away from the rest of the pack, her knife sticking out of his neck. As she drew even nearer to the unicorns, the other wolves picked up her scent, and almost half of them began circling around the unicorns towards her. Reema slowed her pace to a quick walk and took out a short staff that she had been carrying at her side, readying herself for a fight.
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 4 2013, 01:35 PM.
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The Inkweaver
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Laurel blinked and stared at the confusion about her. One minute she had been standing in the midst of Beilon Forest. Then came a burning sensation in her chest, and the trees and undergrowth melted away to the dry, grassy field punctuated by rocky crags she now saw.
A ferocious growl to her left prompted her to turn. A large black wolf was advancing slowly on a young man. Laurel leapt into action, shouting loudly and swinging her sword at the beast. It turned and snarled, but before it could leap, her blade clove its neck in two. Laurel turned to the young man, but he was staring back toward the valley below.
Just then, Laurel noticed Renata and Moraenor standing where she had been before, staring around in confusion.
Renata looked relieved when she at last found Laurel--the one thing in all this strange place she recognized.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"I don't know," Laurel answered, keeping her eyes fixed on the black wolves circling the terrified white horse-like creatures (horses with horns...) at the center of the valley. There was another person there, one with dark hair and a staff at the ready, who looked as if she dared take on the entire pack herself, just to save the horned horses.
"Looks like we landed in the middle of a skirmish," Moraenor noted wryly. He caught Laurel's eye and smirked. "Are you ready?"
Laurel smiled darkly and swung her sword. "I've had enough holiday, thank you," she declared. "I've been waiting a long time for a chance to fight something really dangerous again!"
Renata pulled out her bow and nocked an arrow. Squinting down the shaft, she inhaled, and released her breath at the same time as the arrow. The wolf closest to them stumbled heavily with a cry as the arrow pierced his leg just below the haunch.
"Let's help them," she agreed.
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema waited calmly for the first wolf to attack. Suddenly one sprang towards her. Before it even reached her, she made a sweeping motion with her staff and the air around her condensed, forming a thick sheet of ice. The wolf launched into it, but the ice didn't even splinter when the wolf hit it head first with a sickening crack as it's skull shattered. The next wolf came at her, but Reema was prepared. Her staff was raised to the sky, the brilliant white stone in the top glittering as a crackling ball of electricity formed above it. With a quick flick of her wrist, Reema threw the ball at the wolf. It made a loud, thunderous noise as it hit the wolf, and the air was immediately fill with the acrid smell of burning fur.
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The Inkweaver
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Laurel and Moraenor charged at the wolf-pack. Renata remained at a distance, where she could easily pick off any wolf foolish enough to charge her alone. Laurel heard a sound like a thunderclap, and quite suddenly, a wall of ice appeared at the far side of the valley. There was a flash and a burning smell, and Laurel saw that the dark-haired woman was working some sort of magic to attack the wolves, decimating their numbers while distracting them from their terrified prey--whatever they were.


They are called unicorns.

Laurel whirled around at the sound of the voice. Where had it come from? And yet--she glimpsed one of the magnificent creatures screaming into the face of an advancing wolf.
"Unicorn," Laurel practiced the term aloud; it felt like a foreign language, but somehow she could not deny that it was fitting for these ethereal beings.
A wolf lunged for her wrist, and Laurel brought her sword up instinctively. With a rasping gurgle, the wolf's body stopped, skewered upon her blade. She pulled it free just in time to thrust it backwards into the snout of yet another wolf leaping toward her.
Laurel turned and nearly jammed her elbow into Moraenor's side, as he had come up against her back.
"Beg 'pardon, your Majesty," He teased as he wrestled with a large beast.
"Moraenor!" Laurel couldn't stop the blush, even as she slid her blade between the jaws of an advancing wolf. She wiped the sweat from her face and resumed a defensive stance. "You know how I feel about you calling me that."
"Sorry," he replied, "It's a habit."
"Just protect the unicorns!" Laurel grunted, moving closer to the creatures while maintaining eye contact with at least four wolves who hung back menacingly, waiting for her guard to slip so they could strike.
"Uni-what?" Moraenor asked, maneuvering to look at Laurel.
"The horse-creatures, they're called unicorns," Laurel explained, leaving out the voice in her head that had told her so.
Moraenor didn't press her. He shrugged, and the two Elves resumed their back-to-back stance. The moment that any of the surrounding wolves struck, the whole pack would be slain.

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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema made another sweeping motion with her staff, and two of the wolves were thrown back several yards. Just as she was about to throw another dagger at an advancing wolf, a thought seemed to occur in her mind.

"What are these magnificent horned creatures?"
almost without realizing, Reema immediately replied in her mind, "They are unicorns."

Although slightly puzzled, Reema pushed the incident to the back of her mind, focusing on the half dozen wolves still advancing on her. Magic crackled in the air as Reema brought down bolts of lightening, trying to ward off some of the wolves. Suddenly two of them charged her, and Reema was forced to draw her dirk. As she fought fiercely against the the two attacking her head on, and used her staff to keep three of the other wolves at a distance, Reema failed to notice the largest wolf of the pack sneaking around behind her.
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 7 2013, 10:40 PM.
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The Inkweaver
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Laurel's muscles ached from holding her position. The scar on her arm started to burn. Suddenly, one of the wolves picked up its head, sniffing the wind. Laurel took that as the signal. Swinging her blade above her head, she rushed at the pack with a cry. Moraenor came in right behind her, cutting down a wolf that leaped for Laurel's head. The other wolves soon turned and began running in the other direction.
"What happened?" Laurel asked. "Did we scare them that badly?"
"I doubt highly that we have that sort of effect on these beasts," Moraenor replied. "Look!"
Laurel followed Moraenor's pointing finger to the wolves' destination: the dark-haired woman on the other side of the valley. Already she was beset by a small detachment. She used the staff in her hand, and she appeared to have a short sword that she swung expertly, but with wolves coming at her from all directions, it would be only a matter of time before she was overcome.
Laurel turned and whistled a series of three notes: a signal for Renata that meant "Cover my advance!"
Immediately, the young woman began working her way forward, aiming higher to increase the length of her shots. Laurel and Moraenor worked their way through the savage horde. They slashed at the beasts as they ran, trying to attract more attention to themselves, but in vain. The wolves had singled out the easier prey--and they thirsted for the blood of the one who had caused the deaths of so many of their own.
Laurel saw one large wolf launch itself at the unprotected back of the woman. She dashed forward, sword at the ready.
When the wolf began its descent, Laurel was there. She sliced toward the wolf's neck. It fell on her heavily, the bared teeth just inches from her ear. Laurel stumbled backward, and her shoulder connected against something behind her. She heard a cry, and suddenly the body fell away from her.
Panting heavily, Laurel turned around. The dark-haired woman blinked wide-eyed at her. The two wolves she had been facing were dead. Moraenor killed another as Renata's arrows dispatched two more.
Standing so close to the stranger, Laurel felt once again the keen sting of her "tainted" blood. This woman was so fair, so serene--so pure, it made Laurel ashamed that her father had ever fallen for a Half-Elf.

"My name is Laurel, I come from the land of Murinda." she said. "Who are you, and what is this strange land?"
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema plunged her dirk into a wolf that got too close, and was about to send another ball of lightening at a small group circling further when something hit her in the back and she lost her balance, stumbling forward. In seconds she recovered her balance, and whirled around to face the one who knocked her over, dirk at the ready. She pulled back in surprise at the sight of another woman, dressed in a green tunic.

"My name is Laurel, I come from the land of Murinda." the woman said. "Who are you, and what is this strange land?"

Reema was immediately aware of a man with a bloodstained sword, and another woman who carrying a bow. They finished off all but a few of the wolves, and headed in the direction of the pair. Reema was weary of the three, and watched their every move.

"You are in the land of Terrarum." she said, ignoring the question about who she was, "And what, may I ask, are you doing this high in the mountains?"
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The Inkweaver
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Terrarum. Laurel mulled over the strange word in her mind. The Andaru had a word like it,
terriar, meaning "I go." She wondered what the word meant in this land's tongue.

Laurel's Inner Sight kicked in, and she sensed the deep caverns of secrets this woman--who did not even trust them enough to give her name--that lay behind those deep-black eyes. In a way, Laurel saw much of herself in this woman. She endeavored to set the example of candor, to engage the woman and assure her that there was no reason for mistrust between them. Laurel couldn't shake the impression that she might have met this woman before; her voice sounded strangely familiar to Laurel's ear. But how could she have met someone who had most likely never been to Murinda--and Laurel had never been away from it in this manner?

"I am not sure how we ended up here. My guardian Moraenor and I were out hunting, and Renata--the young woman there--had gone elsewhere in the forest to pick berries." Laurel placed her hand over her heart, where the strange green stone Athelron had sent her hung over her heart; had there been some attached enchantment he had not warned her about? She knew the impossibility of anyone on the whole of Murinda--even the Respertian Elves she had only heard about--capable of this kind of corporal transport.

"It must be a sorcerer from this land who has given the enchantment to bring us here," Laurel concluded, "but I doubt he had the foresight to place us in such a fortuitous position to save you and your friend." She smiled disarmingly,

"Come, there is no cause for guarded words or bad blood between us! We are friends; we saved your life, and I am sure we would have perished if it were not for you and the other one. Won't you at least tell us your name? How was it that these wolves came to attack the horned... ucornis?" Her attempt at gentility failed sadly as she butchered the foreign word.

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Tasha the Gypsy
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Being a former assassin, Reema's name was still well known among those who might have the need of an assassin; she had no intention of giving her name to anyone.

"Come, there is no cause for guarded words or bad blood between us! We are friends; we saved your life, and I am sure we would have perished if it were not for you and the other one. Won't you at least tell us your name? How was it that these wolves came to attack the horned... ucornis?" The woman in front of her was saying. Reema smiled at the mispronunciation, but remained on her guard. The allusion to another person nearby caught her attention, but her face showed no emotion.

"You may have saved my life," replied Reema coolly as she cleaned her dirk, and retrieved the knife she had first thrown, "but others have saved my life in the past just so I would trust them. You'll have to prove yourselves first." Reema's piercing gaze held Laurel's for a few seconds.
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The Inkweaver
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"You'll have to prove yourselves first."


Laurel's pointed ears burned, and she felt the human-like urge to strike this arrogant woman across the face. She felt a cool hand encompass hers, and Moraenor was at her side, his pale hand firmly grasping her tight, red fist.

"Don't," He whispered in a voice only she could hear.
Laurel struggled against his caution. Prove herself? This stranger could have no idea of the life Laurel had led back on Murinda: how her whole life had been one "proving" after another: to her kinfolk, to Athelron the pompous Bregundian Elf, to Moraenor, to Gwynna--at least these all had the decency to give at least some sort of title or name!
Laurel swallowed, but her throat remained tight. She spoke anyway.


"You will pardon us for the perceived presumption in attempting to be friendly," she seethed. "I assure you, we would not betray the only person in this world that we know--but of course you will not take my word on that, either." Laurel avoided Moraenor's piercing gaze in her periphery as she felt a bit like a Bregundian in her speech and manner. "If you will not give us your name, then perhaps you will direct us to the nearest town, where we can find a more reasonable guide to perhaps tell us more of this world, since we know so little of it that we cannot reasonably prove ourselves in any way to your satisfaction.

"Tell us the way to the nearest town," Laurel finished, "And you need not fear ever hearing from any of us again."
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema listened with half a smile as she watched Laurel begin heating up. She knew now that these people were definitely not here to kill her. Any hired killers would have been calm and cool, even when faced with a test to prove themselves.

"If you will not give us your name, then perhaps you will direct us to the nearest town, where we can find a more reasonable guide to perhaps tell us more of this world, since we know so little of it that we cannot reasonably prove ourselves in any way to your satisfaction." The woman said, then paused for a moment to cool down, "Tell us the way to the nearest town, and you need not fear ever hearing from any of us again."

"I would be glad to direct you." replied Reema, "The nearest village is Ranae, just west of here. I warn you though, they dislike strangers even more that I do."

She was about to say something else when a unicorn came up and nudged Reema, attracting her attention. Reema looked at it, then seeing a little blood on it's coat remembered the young, injured unicorn.

"Excuse me, I need to tend to Relem." Said Reema just before she quickly headed over the the ring of unicorns standing over the smaller one.
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The Inkweaver
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Laurel did not move as the woman turned and followed the unicorn back to the group and the wounded one. The calm answer diffused her temper faster than the cutting remarks at the first had aroused it.

"A word?" Moraenor whispered to her as the woman knelt by the bleeding creature.

Laurel turned to him; her guardian and mentor had eyes full of concern.

"It wasn't necessary to speak to her that way, you know," he began softly.
Laurel sighed,
"I know! It's just--she was being so difficult! Why won't she tell us her name? It's unfair!"
Moraenor shook his head. "What is fair? I seem to recall you treating Athelron the same way when you first met."

"That's different! He slighted me first! We would be better off heading toward this Renae place." She moved as if to head off in that direction, but Moraenor wouldn't let her leave.

"I'm not finished yet!" he warned her. "Don't you remember what she said? If you continue to behave as you did just now, I do not doubt we would find ourselves completely shut off from any other society--whereas here, we have a chance at changing that!"

"What chance?" Laurel hissed at him. "She's ignoring us now; it's a lost cause. A fresh start is better, I say."

"No, Laurel, actually it isn't." Moraenor paused and studied Laurel's face to keep his own emotions in check. He saw a glint in her eye that he knew well. "Laurel," he mused, "What does your Inner Sight tell you?"
Laurel averted her eyes and would not meet his gaze.

Moraenor continued,
"I think you know that there is no real harm in this woman's heart. She is different--yes, I sense it too--but her motives are no less noble than ours. Consider for a moment, Laurel: you might eventually win her trust, only to find that this woman has had a tortured past, and generally would not reveal her name to anyone, not just you. Think if she were Andarian--would you speak to her in that manner then?"

"No, because it wouldn't do any good; but--"

"Listen well, your highness: on Murinda, you are royalty. Here, you are a stranger. You must remember that while we are strangers in the land, we may be treated as unwelcome, or be forced to behave with more humility than usual. You would do well to curb that tongue of yours, and consider how your father would have you behave when you feel mistreated by others. Will you do that?"

Laurel sighed. "I'll try," she conceded reluctantly.

Moraenor smiled.
"That's better; why not start now?" He gestured to where the woman bent over the wounded unicorn. Laurel knew he was referring to the tin of healing talatha balm she always carried. Sighing heavily, Laurel walked among the milk-white throng to the lady. She wondered what had been done to cause this creature's wounds; they did not appear to be inflicted by a wolf.
Laurel waited until the woman turned, and then she withdrew the tin of talatha.

"May I help?" she asked simply.
Edited by The Inkweaver, Oct 10 2013, 10:08 PM.
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema had just finished cleaning the deep gash in the young unicorn's side when she head someone approaching her from behind. She turned to find Laurel standing behind her.

"May I help?" she asked as she took out a container of something.

Reema looked at Laurel for a moment, sensing that she wanted to apologize for her words. Reema smiled slightly and gave a short nod.

"Better get over here then. Relem has lost quite a lot of blood already."
Edited by Tasha the Gypsy, Oct 11 2013, 06:31 PM.
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star-dreamer

Nolan watched the whole thing from his perch in the mountains. He'd seen the new people arrive -- seemingly out of nowhere -- to aid the dark haired girl. It'd surprised him at first, but not completely; he'd seen many strange things in his travels, and some of them were even stranger than people stepping out of thin air. During the wolf fight, he'd wanted to jump down and join them... a few quick slashes with his long knives would not have gone amiss, and a well spoken spell or two would have definitely come in handy... besides, he hadn't had a proper fight in ages. Going through the forms was all well and good for practice, but there was nothing quite like an actual battle to release adrenaline and loosen up the limbs.

Yet there was something about the valley that bothered him... or perhaps it was the mountains around the valley. Those wolves had come out of nowhere, and they were bigger than the mountain wolves he was used to; bigger, and more organized. It was the organization that threw him off. Sure, wolves were known to hunt in packs and work together to bring down prey, but the way that one wolf had looked at him, had singled him out from his hiding place up on the cliffs... even for someone as experienced as Nolan, it was unnerving. Yet he could find no sign of an outside interference. If someone was hiding up in the cliffs and controlling the wolves (as he still felt there must be) they had chosen their hiding place well.

The wolf pack gave way to the dark haired girl and the newcomers, after which followed what appeared to be a heated discussion of some-sort. When that ended, the dark haired girl and one of the newcomers bent low over a unicorn body to assess the damage.

Well, come on, Nolan, he said to himself as he looked down on the valley, now empty of wolves and appearing serene once more. You're doing no good pretending to hide up here on the cliff-face. No doubt you've been seen, or if you haven't, it's only a matter of time until you are. Might as well get down there and see if you can help... and perhaps you'll be able to get a better view of the surrounding mountains from below, find out where you are, and get your bearings. It may be that you are wrong, and nothing is hiding up here with ill intent... but then again, you've not often been wrong about such things.

He started down the mountain again, this time with a knife in hand. It was much more difficult to climb down using only one hand, but Nolan had grown up in a mountain range, and had lived most of his life there. That was years ago... almost a hundred, by his count, though no one would guess it by looking at him. And what is a mere hundred years to an Etaiy? These mountains were much larger than the Laenill, but He'd once learned that it was better climb a little slower than to climb without a defense.

When he finally reached the bottom, he took a moment to straighten himself, and then started over to the small group in the middle of the clearing.
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Laurel crouched by the woman's side, staring breathlessly at the poor young unicorn. She watched the woman's hands deftly brushing over the deep gash. The creature moaned in pain under her touch, but it remained still. The other unicorns stood and watched. Laurel's scalp prickled in a way that told her some kind of great magic was at work here. It seemed only to increase as she neared the nameless woman.
Laurel realized the woman was staring at her, and she quickly opened the tin of talatha-balm, releasing the wholesome, pungent scent. Gathering some on her fingers, Laurel spread it liberally over the cut. When it was covered, she leaned back.

"Is there some kind of bandage we can cover the wound with?" she asked. "With the balm, it should only take a day or so to heal."

A little ways from them, Moraenor felt Renata's body tense beside him.
He looked down. She had turned her head and was gazing at something in the distance.

"What is it?" He murmured.
Renata didn't move her head as she whispered,
"Behind us; someone is coming."
Moraenor glanced over his shoulder and saw the young human they had first saved on the cliff now descended to the valley, headed right for them.
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Tasha the Gypsy
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Reema watched as Laurel applied the contents of the container to Relem.

"Is there some kind of bandage we can cover the wound with?" she asked. "With the balm, it should only take a day or so to heal."

Reema nodded and reached into the small satchel she always carried.
"Use this." she said, handing Laurel a wide, soft strip of cloth, "It should do the trick."
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