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**A Gryphon's Tail, Part VIII

...Must Come to an End**

"So, uh... how'd you meet Ray?"

Kira considered that question as she lounged aside the centaur. The two had been riding hard for hours - maybe a little TOO hard, given the panther's condition. Still, he seemed insistent on putting the Gryphon Territories behind him as swiftly as possible, and the filly seemed more than happy to oblige. He just, ah, had to stop for the occasional breather.

"Oh, uh..." the gryphon hesitated, blushing a little at the memory. Sure she had only known Rhaelyn for a week now, but it already felt like they had known each other for the better part of a year. She also distinctly recalled that he had asked her NOT to repeat the story of how they had met.

"You know," she murmured unconvincingly. "A friend of a friend."

Alandrea grinned, her equine ears twitching a little as peered sidelong at the hen. "Oh yeah? Met him on the job, myself."

Kira arched a brow, looking to the other female. Rhaelyn HAD mentioned that Al was there when he had supposedly saved the world. This was as good a chance as any to verify his claim. "Is that so?"

The centaur stretched out a bit, her human spine arched and her arms folding behind her head as she audibly worked a dozen kinks from her joints. She couldn't really 'sit' given her nature, but her mare half had settled on the ground next to Kira with legs folded neatly. Even then she still towered over the gryphon, but Kira was slowly growing accustomed to the need to crane her neck so often.

"Oh sure, he was on one'a those big 'save the world' deals," she grinned. "Don't really remember the details, but we had to carry some magic doo-dad all the way across the desert. Get it to the right place at the right time, near as I could tell."

Kira furrowed her brow now, absently glancing toward the brush. She had told the panther not to wander off too far, but... er... she knew he wanted his privacy. His condition had taken a turn for the worse since they had begun this last leg of the journey. They were making good time, of course, but they had to stop every couple of hours so the panther could... recuperate.

"Um... so, that's it?" Kira smiled uncertainly. "Ser Rha-, uh, Ray did mention that you're a mercenary. I think I am, too."

Alandrea chuckled, reaching down to pat the gryphon on one feathered shoulder. "Yeah? Well welcome to the club, little sister." And a brief pause before she grinned again, "But, nah, he don't like me to say it, but the first time we met was actually in a stable out in Aziz."

The hen perked, her wings rousing and flexing briefly before she resettled. "Hey, that's not far from White Palm!"

She found it hard to imagine the panther in a desert setting, but then again she had never actually seen him wearing anything other than winter clothing. She also couldn't help but wonder if that meant Rhaelyn had ever passed through her own home town. Was there a chance that she had ever come across him in her youth? It seemed unlikely, but... it was fun to think about.

"Sure ain't," Alandrea drawled. She grinned again, glancing toward the forest to make certain that the panther wasn't within earshot before she continued. "Dang fool thought I was a horse. Tried to buy me from some shyster, when I was takin' a nap."

"Well," Kira eyed the mare skeptically. "You were in a stable...?"

The filly arched her brows, a little defensive. "Course I was! They don't make beds big enough for a gal like me!" And she sniffed, still smiling a little as she crossed her arms. "Not like I enjoy gettin' stuck bunkin' with my slower, dumber cousins."

"Er, right." The gryphon was a little mollified. "Y-... yeah, most places don't let me rent a bed either. I usually get stuck in a basement or something."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Kira tried to brighten the mood. "B-... but it's not too bad! There's usually lots of mice and stuff to eat!"

Alandrea snorted, then laughed, her smile entirely restored as she reached down to noogie the hen. "Sounds like a pretty great perk to me, Ki. Guess I can't complain about gettin' unlimited hay, myself. Don't taste too great, but at least it makes it easy to keep my girlish figure."

Kira eyed the mare uncertainly once more, her gaze set a little lower than the filly's face. If the centaur's height was intimidating, those curves were doubly so. Not because she found them attractive, of course - in fact, she didn't really 'get' them at all. They just seemed clumsy and awkward as far as she was concerned. But she couldn't help but worry that the panther, being bipedal and all, might not be able to resist them.

She shook her head, trying to silence the nagging voice of doubt. That was silly. It's not like Rhaelyn just went around hitting on every curvy thing he ever stumbled across. Or did he? She hadn't exactly known him for very long.

"So how 'bout you?" Alandrea grinned, nudging the hen out of her introspective silence. "Pretty little thing like you, you must be beatin' the guy-gryphons off with a stick!"

"Oh no," she chirped. "I beat guys off with my hands."

And a pause, before she realized that her wording was a little off. "I mean, uh, I punch them." She blushed, and the centaur was polite enough not to laugh. "With, er, my fists. Drakes are actually pretty, uh, aggressive so you've gotta send them a clear message if you're not interested."

"Preaching to the choir, sister." Alandrea smiled, shaking her head a little. "Trust me, yer drakes can't be any worse than a horny 'taur stud. There's a reason most filly's like to get out of the homeland right quick-like when they come of age, and wander the roads a while 'til they're ready t'settle down."

"Drakes have six-inch claws," Kira countered as she eyed the mare. "And they can bite through bone."

"Er..." the filly hesitated, her tail flicking behind her to swat down an errant bloodfly. "Point. Guess it's a little different, after all."

Another awkward pause, before Alandrea glanced back toward the brush. "Sure is takin' our boy a long time. He, uh, feelin' alright?"

"Rhaelyn hurt his legs." Kira murmured, in a very matter-of-fact manner.

"Uh, yeah, I get that."

"And, uh..." how else could the hen explain the panther's behavior? She was trying her utmost not to mention the state of his nethers, but she could only blame it on his legs so many times before the centaur might begin to suspect something.

"And he ate something bad." She nodded. Yes, that was a cunning enough lie to work.

"Well," Alandrea cocked her jaw. "Guess that'd explain all the throwin' up. Just glad he got off my back 'fore he started doin' that."

"I, uh, yeah." Kira winced. She had pummeled the panther a dozen times, and he had never vomited before. Maybe all this riding really WAS bad for him? It had been funny at first, but...

"Damn shame," Alandrea grinned. "Really ruins the little guy's game."

Kira blinked, her neck craned as she glanced back up at the filly. "Huh?"

She grinned a little wider, winking down at the gryphon. "Think our boy's got a crush on me, Ki. Just, uh, don't tell him I said nothin'."

The hen's eyes went a little wider, a slight frown slipping into place on her beak. "What?"

Alandrea laughed, a hand set to her equine hip as she tossed another glance toward the shrubbery. Still no sign of the panther, although she could just barely pick out sounds of his movement.

"Oh sure," she whispered conspiratorially. "You saw how the poor guy perked right up when I got here."

"Well, er, you saved us from that tree." Kira uttered, lamely.

The centaur arched her brows, still smiling. Kira's attempted explanation hadn't slowed her momentum at all. "And hey, Ray practically jumped at the chance t'mount up."

"Rhaelyn hurt his legs," Kira stated for the twentieth time. "And, uh, he ate something bad."

"Well, maybe I'll just hafta give him somethin' to help him feel a little better," the mare chuckled. Her equine ears perked, she tossed another sly wink down at the gryphon. "Poor fellah's had a hard-on the whole time he's been ridin' me."

"W-... uh... y- yeah?" Kira fidgeted, suddenly looking evasive. Her blood rushed, not with anger but with embarassment. She was almost entirely certain that was her fault, but she wasn't about to try correcting the mare.

The filly smirked a little, entirely unabashed as she mused. "Oh sure, guy's pressed right up against my back. Ain't like I could miss it. Course, he ain't really my type, so I should prob'ly just let him down all easy-like..."

Kira bobbed her head, her tone carefully neutral. "That would probably be for the best."

Alandrea stretched once more, setting her overly generous curves to bouncing all over again. Kira clacked her jaw in barely concealed irritation, her eyes narrowed, but the filly didn't seem to notice. "But the poor guy's had such a hard time this trip, what with the injuries 'nd all. I should really throw him a bone or somethin'."

"Oh no, no, that's not a good idea at all." Kira spoke up a little too swiftly and a little too loudly, but thankfully the centaur didn't seem to think anything of it.

"Why not?" she grinned. "'Cuz Ray hurt his legs?"

"Uh, y-... yeah..." Kira eyed the centaur again. How would Rhaelyn even be able to get intimate with someone like Alandrea? She supposed he could, er, stand behind her - but he'd need a footstool to get things to line up properly. But she did have all those curves on the front, and her mouth was probably a lot softer than a beak was...

Alandrea smirked again, reaching down to jab the gryphon playfully. "Ki, I ain't talkin' about liftin' tail or nothin'. I'm just sayin' it might be fun to give Ray a little treat."

"Oh, I..." Kira grimaced a little, absently kneading at the ground with her talons. "I don't think that's a good idea either, uh..." she peeked sidelong at the filly, then tried to explain. "Uh, because of his current... state?"

"Eh, maybe." Alandrea grinned, giving a little shrug. "Maybe not. But, t'tell the truth, I kind'a owe him after what happened the first time we met. Poor guy."

The gryphon furrowed her brow, sitting up as she stared hard at the filly. "Why, what happened?"

The centaur seemed ready to say something, but she paused as the panther suddenly stumbled back out of the brush. He looked, ah... well, he didn't look great. Still, given the circumstances he didn't look terrible either.

Rhaelyn had tried to clean up as best he could, although it's not like there were any streams or creeks in the Scorched Woods. At best there were stagnant pools of slightly acidic water, and the only rain that ever fell was ash and soot, so he had been forced to use what little had remained in his waterskin instead. He had also scrounged another walking stick from the resident trees - one that hadn't tried to eat him.

"Hey, big guy!" Alandrea smiled. "Everything still where it ought'a be?"

The panther cocked his head a little, glancing from the centaur to the gryphon. Had Kira said anything...? Kira was wide-eyed and innocent, but Rhaelyn knew better than to trust that look.

The filly smiled apologetically, her hooves working as she pushed herself back up onto all-fours. "Ki was just tellin' me that you got yerself some food poisonin'. Guess the Gryphon Territories don't agree with you none-too-well."

He blinked, glanced to the hen, then gave a grudging nod. "Er, right. Yes. That's... an understatement. I, uh... sorry to keep you two waiting."

"It's okay," Kira chirped. "We were just talking!"

Rhaelyn eyed her again, more than a little suspicious.

"About, um..." she drooped a little, trying to give an innocent smile. "... things?"

Alandrea grinned, trotting about to move up along the panther's side. "Nothin' to worry yer pretty little head about, Ray. We were just talkin' 'bout how we both met ya."

The beastkin looked far more appalled at that revelation than he probably should have. "Ah, you... you were? And, er..."

The filly smirked, exchanging a sly look with the hen. "Ain't nothin' much to tell, truth be told. I was just tellin' Ki that we met up in Aziz, where you hired me on as an archer for yer whole 'save the world' thing."

"And I didn't get to say how we met!" Kira blurted, bouncing to her feet as well. "Because you got back so fast!"

"So how 'bout it, big guy?" The centaur grinned, patting her equine back with one hand. "You ready to keep on keepin' on? You can tell us a story while we're walkin'."

Rhaelyn snorted, his ears skewed a little. He wasn't exactly eager to hop onto the mare's back again - he had barely just managed to recover from his LAST riding session. But the sun was starting to set, and he wanted to be out of these thrice-cursed woods before dawn. He sighed, nodded, and moved up to the centaur's flank.

"Not ready, no, but I won't hold us up." And a grunt as Alandrea obligingly plucked the panther up, dropping him unceremoniously onto her back once more. "Ngh... hf... b-... but Kira should... nnf... be the one to tell the story. I was, ng... unconscious for most of it..."

"Oh yeah?" Alandrea grinned, absently snagging the panther's hands as she pulled his arms about her waist. She paused, thinking on it for a brief second, before she slid his paws a bit higher onto her ample chest instead. "Sounds like a heck of a story!"

Kira gaped, staring at the centaur and then at the suddenly blushing male. Her beak worked, but she had no words.

The panther managed to find some, though. "A-... Al, what are you...?"

The filly grinned, holding the panther's hands in place as he reflexively tried to slide them off. "Just figgered you could use a little pick-me-up, Ray. Don't think nothin' of it." And a pregnant pause as she glanced back over her shoulder. "Now, go ahead and get on with yer story."

Rhaelyn winced, his fingers flexing lightly against the soft swell of the mare's chest, his gaze flitting down to the obviously aghast gryphon. "Nf... K-... Kira?"

The hen snorted, her gaze averted as she looked a little sullen. "Rhaelyn tells it better. Let him tell the story." The second they got to safety, she was going to punch him SO hard...

Alandrea arched a brow, frowning just a little as she slowly set into motion. The panther cringed against her back as she moved into a slow trot. "Well someone better start tellin' me a story, elsewise this is gonna be a real long 'nd borin' trip."

And a pause as the panther's paws started to slip off of her chest again. She resituated them, and grinned back at the mage. "Ah, keep'em right here, big guy. I don't let just anyone take the reins, so t'speak... ya don't wanna hurt my feelin's, do ya?"

Rhaelyn swallowed hard, but he nodded mutely. He certainly wasn't going to argue with the centaur, although he could already tell that Kira was more than a little annoyed. He, um... he would just set things straight later. After they had gotten to safety, and he didn't have half a ton worth of mare wedged between his legs.

"I punched Rhaelyn in the balls." Kira chirped rather abruptly.

Alandrea's brows arched, and she looked a little surprised. Glancing back over her shoulder at the suddenly choking panther, she smirked a little before looking back down to the hen. "Ah, s'that so?"

Kira nodded smartly, and continued casually. Sure, she knew that the panther wouldn't be happy about it, but she was punishing him for his wandering paws. "Yeah, when we first met. He was lost in the woods out near the Barren Hills, and I was tracking him. He thought I was one of the Queen's hunters, so I had to subdue him."

The filly smirked, "Nothin' drops a stud like a swift whack to the twig 'nd berries, huh?"

"Oh," Kira continued, pointedly ignoring the panther's glare. "It took more than one whack. Rhaelyn's berries are so small, I almost missed them the first couple of times."

"Er," Alandrea hesitated. Was she missing something here? At the very least, she had to doubt the suddenly irate gryphon's claims about the panther's endowment. He was straddling her back, and from what she could tell he certainly FELT pretty well equipped.

"Well shoot," she mused. "Scrappy little featherduster like you, I'm surprised y'didn't whack him off completely!" No, wait, that phrasing was awkward-

"I almost did that later," Kira nodded smartly. "Rhaelyn can be pretty frustrating. Took me hours to get him to stop trying to kill me. Eventually I just had to pin him down and squeeze until he would hold still and listen!"

"Well that's not how-" and the panther snapped his muzzle shut, shrinking a little at the hen's predatory stare. Yup, she had just flipped right back around from cute to terrifying. He slumped back against Alandrea's back, trying not to groan at the renewed sting in his loins.

The filly looked a little amused, "You'll hafta give me all the details sometime, little sister."

"Al!" Rhaelyn sputtered faintly, his fingers reflexively tensing.

"Hey, easy there big guy!" she grinned broadly, absently patting the panther's paws. "This ain't a date. I just don't want you fallin' off, but that don't give you full squeezin' privileges."

Kira's eyes went wide, and she shot another withering look at the panther. Yes, that settled it, when they got back to safety she was going to punch him TWICE. Once in each ball. That would teach him to go groping every awkward, lumpy female he got his greedy paws on.

The hen sniffed, "Honestly, he gets punched and kicked down there so much that I'm starting to think he secretly likes it!"

Rhaelyn coughed faintly, his forehead set to the mare's back again as he tried to focus on the conversation. "Th-... that's ridiculous! Who would like that kind of, ngk-!" and he cut off abruptly as the filly casually hopped over a fallen branch.

Alandrea smirked a little, not seeming to draw the relation between her jump and the male's sudden silence. "Well, I dunno, Ray. We both know someone who IS into that kind'a thing..."

Kira arched a brow, glancing back toward the panther for confirmation. "Really?"

The panther coughed again, but his ears went bolt upright. He echoed the hen's confusion. "R-... really? Who?"

The centaur snorted, her own brow arched. "Really, Ray? You can't think of ANYone we've traveled with who was into that sort'a thing?"

Rhaelyn scowled, his discomfort briefly forgotten as he wracked his brain. No one immediately sprang to mind, but - ah, of course, she had to be talking about Amazonian. "Well I don't think that, nf, Veridia was really INTO it, but..."

She snorted again, her ponytail wriggling about violently as she shook her head. "No, not Vee. I mean, yeah, she likes kickin' a guy in the spuds just as much as the next gal, but I'm talkin' about a fellah who actually got off on it."

The panther frowned, wincing again as the mare skipped over another branch on the path. Honestly, was she going out of her way to find every obstruction possible? He tried to think back - it had to be someone that they had both traveled with, which rather narrowed it down. They had only been on two adventures together, although they had admittedly been rather large ones.

Garant? No, from the way the surly barbarian had reacted when the Dragon Queen had-... well, suffice to say it certainly wasn't him. Nocht? Maybe, since it would make an odd amount of sense given that his mate was a healer. Still, he was gone now, and it wasn't like Alandrea to make light of the dead. So that only left that obnoxious twerp of an alleycat.

He mulled it over, and his eyes widened a little as one thought led to another. It would certainly explain a lot. How the stupid little thief had managed to get himself captured by Cygna's bounty hunters three times, only to constantly slip away before they could actually execute him. How he had brazenly displayed his ability to banish demons with a cunningly placed runestone, but had still dropped his guard at just the wrong time while fighting the dark wizard's succubus at Mount Gloom. Not to mention the time they had faced off against the Wolfwere Queen-

"Puttin' it all together?" Alandrea grinned, glancing back over her shoulder again.

Kira furrowed her brow, glancing up at the panther again. She couldn't see what was going on in his head, so she still had absolutely no idea what the two were talking about. "What? Putting what all together?"

"Really?" he still didn't seem convinced, although he had to admit that the evidence was certainly compelling. How in the world could he have ever missed all of that? "I don't know, Al, that, nf... that seems pretty far-fetched."

Alandrea smirked, absently vaulting over yet another branch. Her ears twitched slightly as she heard the male utter a plaintive squeak when he was jostled, but she paid it no mind. "Hon, he asked me to kick him once. Course I didn't actually do it, but..."

Kira spoke up now, eying the mare's hooves dubiously. They were large, heavy, and literally had pieces of iron nailed right to them. "Er, he did? With those?"

The filly grinned again, "Course I didn't actually do it." she repeated, "But that didn't stop him from wantin' to know how it might feel, though." And a delicate pause, before she laughed. "I told him he'd just hafta ask our boy here."

Rhaelyn sputtered, "Al! Don't you dare!"

Kira gaped, confused for a split second before she glanced back down at the mare's hooves. She swiftly put two and two together - the mare's canny references to how she'd first met the panther, how she 'owed him one', and her obvious amusement at the gryphon's revelation. Still... it seemed far-fetched. How could the beastkin have survived something like that. "Uh..."

"Sorry Ray," the filly grinned. "You want some kind'a non-disclosure agreement, it's gonna cost you extra."

The male groaned, softly butting his forehead against the mare's human shoulder. "Fine, I'll... nf... make you a full set of those arrows."

Alandrea giggled softly, but she made a zipping motion with her fingers. "Sorry, Ki. The taskmaster has spoken, and my lips're sealed. You'll just hafta pry it out of him yerself." And she winced just slightly, her ears flicking back as she deliberately jostled the male this time. "Hey, ease up on the girls, Ray. Already said I wouldn't talk about it."

The hen cocked her head. Sure, Rhaelyn was being defensive, but she didn't really think that he was being particularly hard on- oh, right. She glanced at the mare's chest again, her eyes narrowed as she studied the panther's paws. She'd just have to punch him three times. She was going to need something to write this down on, so she didn't forget. Also, she'd need to learn how to write. Maybe she could just tie something around her talon to remind her...

'Maybe four times?' that little voice chirped, innocently.

She nodded slightly, an evil little grin on her beak. Yes, that sounded just fine. In fact, maybe she'd have to just punch the beastkin until he told her about what had happened the first time he met Alandrea. That way everyone would win.

She glanced sidelong at the pained panther, her tail flicking behind her. Well, she would win, anyway. But wasn't that what mattered?

'Of course it is,' the voice confirmed. It was always so supportive.

Rhaelyn groaned, breaking the awkward silence. "Well, just to be, nf... absolutely clear here, I don't like it. Not at all."

"Rmf," the hen grunted. "That's just too bad for you."

Alandrea arched a brow once more, glancing back at the panther, then down at the hen. She really did feel like she was missing something, and not for the first time. "Heh, well ain't no shame in that, Ray. Different strokes 'nd all."

Kira snorted a little, then paused abruptly as something caught her attention. She turned, her eyes wide as she scanned the terrain to the south of the path. There were a few sparse trees, some boulders, and in the distance a slight rocky incline where the earth dipped into a deep ravine that traced across the region.

Her eyes narrowed. She could have SWORN she had seen something, but... no... there was nothing now. And they were just starting to make some decent progress, too, so she didn't bring it up. No sense in slowing the centaur down until she was certain they might be in danger.

"So Al," she mused. "Did you and Rhealyn really save the world...?"

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

"Hsst!" Quetzyl shoved Jarol's beak into the dirt, her own body low as she slunk behind the ridge for cover. "Idiot! She almossst ssaw you!"

The over-sized drake grunted, but he didn't resist as the scaled hen pinned him down. He had been careless, but... that centaur looked sooo delicious, and... "S-... sorry, Quetzyl. But I'm hungry!"

The female snorted, but... it was hard to argue with the drake. He was still stupid and careless, but she had to agree that hunger was starting to get to her as well. They had been so busy trying to stalk their prey that they hadn't had time to scrounge for food.

"Hss," she muttered sibilantly. "Well keep it to yoursself, you great big oaf. We can eat when our job iss done."

Jarol shifted as the hen slowly released him, pushing back to his feet and creeping up the rise just far enough to peek over it. The group of travelers were continuing onward without pause - he had hoped they might stop to make up camp for the night, but now it seemed that they were going to continue on until morning.

"When we take the beasstkin, I will eat the ssscentaur." Quetzyl announced, casually. She gestured dismissively with one scaled wing. "You can eat the hated rogue."

The drake grunted, but he didn't say anything. That hardly seemed fair. And honestly, could the hen really eat an entire centaur? Unlikely. Not to say that he was adverse to eating another gryphon, but really, the rogue looked like she would probably be tough and stringy. Not tender and succulent like the horsebeast.

The hen waited impatiently for a few seconds, to see if the drake would talk back. She almost wanted him to, honestly, but no... he was just as spineless as always. At least when Kerrik had been traveling with them, the tiger-striped runt had occasionally challenged her. She would, of course, always thoroughly thrash him for doing so, but it was nice to be contested every once in a while.

"Hss... we will take them ssoon," Quetzyl hissed. She eyed the moon, which hung low and almost full, seeming so close that she almost felt she could reach out and touch it.

Jarol said nothing at first, his eyes still fixed on the slowly dwindling figures as they continued to follow the rough-hewn path. They were a thousand paces distant, now, but still easily close enough for his eyes. "Hf... we should, rr... wait until he is alone. Can take him without a strruggle."

The hen regarded the male evenly for a moment, before quietly slipping about behind him. She was as silent as death, and moved with a liquid grace so subtle that the drake didn't realize where she was until she had taken his dangling balls into her taloned grasp.

"Why?" Quetzyl crooned, soothingly. She didn't squeeze yet. She just held the male's core in her scaled palm.

Jarol froze, his spine going stiff as he felt those warm claws curling about his most vulnerable parts. The drake's breathing was shallow now - Quetzyl had screamed at him before, thrashed him when he stepped out of line, and she had even torn his side open once when she was particularly irate - but she had never done this.

The serpent-gryphon calmly regarded the orbs in her grip. The male was large, even for a drake, so it was no surprise that his eggs were impressively sized as well. They reminded her a little of the bitter crabapples that grew in the wilds just beyond their tribelands. Softer, of course, but just large enough that she almost had trouble fitting them both into one hand.

"Why should we avoid a fight?" she queried again. It was a simple question.

Jarol shivered, his beak working quietly. If the circumstances were different, he might have almost found that gentle grip arousing, but given the present situation he was rightfully terrified. "Rr... hhf... w-... well, they outnumberr us."

Quetzyl arched one scaled brow, the talons of her free hand clicking lightly against the stone ridge. The talons of her other hand twitched ever so slightly, but not enough to cause any actual pain to the unfortunate male. "Anything elssse?"

The drake panted a bit harshly now, trying to swallow back his fear and think on how he might appease the hen. He sincerely doubted that dropping the matter would help, so he simply continued on. "Rf... and... the centaurr has... a magic bow..."

The hen seemed unimpressed, but still her talons remained immobile. She simply held the drake's balls in her grasp, absently thinking about how easy it would be to take them from him. It would be no great loss, as far as she was concerned. He was an awful hunter and a barely passable mate. Again, she found herself wishing that Kerrik had lived. He had always been so much more... athletic.

"Ssso we will take them by sssurprisse. What elsse?"

Jarol swallowed hard, finally daring to twitch his head to one side as he tried to look back at Quetzyl, but he hissed in pain as she suddenly bore down. His eyes set forward once more, on the now-empty path, and just as quickly the hen relented.

He groaned low, thankful that the hen was so quick to relax her grip. Even that split second of pressure had been enough to send an impossible amount of pain rushing up into his body, and his vulnerable eggs were now all but throbbing in the huntmaster's deceptively tender hold. "Nnrf... hhf... rr... a-... and... the rrrogue..."

Quetzyl stiffened, her eyes narrowed and her tail lashing behind her. She had suspected as much. She had been mildly irritated to lose Kerrik, but she knew that Jarol had been truly shaken by the loss. They had both seen what the rogue had done to him, rending his muscles and crushing his...

The hen snarled faintly, her growl settling into a bass rumble like that of a dozen rattlesnakes. It was a dread sound, and Jarol almost whimpered. Kerrik had been a passable hunter, but... it irritated her that she would no longer be able to enjoy his attentions - even if he had survived the trek back to the Shardclaw encampment. The hated rogue had made certain of that.

"What about her?" the hen snarled.

"She, ah..." Jarol winced as Quetzyl slowly increased the pressure until he could distinctly feel each one of her four talons against the tender flesh of his captured nethers. He swallowed hard once more, his beak pressed back to the earth as he dug his claws into the ground. "Ng... sh-... she is a devious one, and... rrng..."

Quetzyl sneered, silencing the drake with a firmer squeeze of her taloned hand. She didn't relent this time, either, her fingers curled tightly about the male's sac like steel bands as she used the smooth inner curve of her claws to press his eggs to her scaled palm. "Thesse are your ballss, Jarol. If you will not usse them, then I will take them from you."

Jarol gagged, shocked to silence as the sinister hen began to slowly crush the life out of his balls. His hind legs trembled, threatening to give out as unrelenting spasms of pure agony spiked through his loins and into his gut. His beak pressed even harder to the ground as he tried to keep himself silent - if he were to cry out in pain, he might alert their prey, and who knew what Quetzyl might do to him then?

The sneer remained on the serpent-hen's jagged beak, her grip unwavering as she continued to roughly work the drake's tender eggs in her hand. "Do you undersstand?"

The drake rolled his head against the ground, his talons gouged even deeper into the earth until they grated against stone. He coughed weakly, and a distant part of his mind was thankful that he hadn't gotten to eat anything in the past few days. Elsewise he would have doubtless emptied his stomach right where he lay.

Quetzyl snorted, eying the trembling male with disgust. He was obviously in pain, but that didn't change the fact that he still hadn't answered her. She calmly increased the pressure, careful not to rend into the squirming orbs with the razor-sharp tips of her claws. She wanted to teach him a lesson, not bleed him out until he died.

"There iss nothing she can do to you, that I cannot do worssse." The hen hissed, her fingers twitching to punctuate each word with another sharp squeeze. And she smiled sweetly, or as sweetly as she could ever manage, and even that supposedly friendly expression looking twisted on her features. "Underssstand?"

Jarol gagged quietly, his tail limp and his back arched in pain. His head jerked against the ground as he desperately bobbed his head in fervid agreement with the hen's sentiment, his beak hitting the dirt more than once as he did so. She had never done this before, and he honestly hoped that she never did it again. He would do anything at this very moment, agree to anything, if it just meant that she would stop.

The hen arched a brow, her sweet smile taking on a more smug and self-satisfied bent. Still twisted and jagged, of course, but the drake couldn't see it anyway. She seemed content with the male's unhesitating compliance, and she almost considered releasing him, but she finally decided that it was best to drive her point home. She wasn't planning to sleep with him again anyway.

"Goooood," she crooned, her fingers squeezing even harder. The drake uttered a plaintive squeak as she bore down, the bruised flesh of his well-worked orbs bulging out from between her barely straining talons. It was remarkable to her - how had she never thought to do this before? It certainly seemed to get results, and she barely had to put any effort into reducing the drake to tears.

Jarol's legs finally buckled beneath him, but even then the hen did not relent. He huddled against the ground, panting and moaning in unthinkable misery as Quetzyl just kept working his swollen eggs. Her talons squeezed and crushed about them harder and harder until the tortured glands gave off a soft crunching sound, akin to well-worked walnuts.

Quetzly finally released the drake, letting him weakly curl into a sobbing heap. She hadn't destroyed his balls, but she was rather satisfied that he at least wouldn't be using them for a good, long while. She flexed her taloned fingers, marveling at the effectiveness of such a simple torture.

"Mm... ssso, I hope you've learned your lessson," she smiled. She clucked her forked tongue against the inside of her beak, circling back about the male to pat him unsympathetically on the back. "Now pull yourssself together, or they will essscape."

The drake coughed and groaned, shuddering against the ground. If this was what he got for simply questioning the hen, he really didn't want to know what would happen if their prey escaped. His eyes rolled, his cracked ribs grating as he desperately tried to catch his breath.

She smiled sweetly down at him, the tip of one talon tracing along Jarol's beak. "The plan hasss changed. We will attack when you are back on your feet." And a pause before she tapped against the edge of his beak, pointedly. "You have until I grow bored, and if you are ssstill lying there then I will crush what remainss of your drakehood."

And Jarol could only groan. Whether dead or simply maimed, he was beginning to envy Kerrik.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

"So there we are," Alandrea laughed. "Buck naked in the Demon Queen's arena, smack dab in the middle o' the Wastelands, with nothin' but rocks and twigs to defend ourselves with."

Kira grinned, listening attentively as the centaur's tale unfolded. "Wow, so, what'd you do?"

The filly grinned right back, her hands set to her hips as she winked down at the gryphon. "Well whattaya think happened? We bucked up every gladiator she sent down to fight us!"

Rhaelyn coughed, wiping away a thin trickle of blood that was running from one corner of his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was because of his earlier exertion against the Treehemoth, or because he'd been on horseback for so many hours, but whatever the reason he felt wretched.

"Well," he coughed again. "It wasn't... nf... it wasn't THAT easy..."

Kira frowned a little, glancing up at the male. She had managed to convince the panther to take a few conservative sips of his healing goo, but it didn't seem to be helping. She was no healer, but it seemed to her that the poor beastkin might have finally been pushed to his limits.

"Naw," Alandrea drawled. "Don't let Gloomy Gus here fool ya. It was plenty easy." She grinned, miming the firing off a bow with her hands. "He magicked up some weapons for us. Gave us a fightin' chance"

The hen looked back to the centaur, smiling a little. "With what, dirt and rocks?"

"And twigs!" Alandrea addendumed. "Used those to make the bowstring and arrows! It was really somethin', I'll tell ya."

Rhaelyn leaned back against the saddlebags, trying to keep his weight eased off of his poor, aching orbs. If they had been swollen to the size of a grapefruit earlier, they were even worse now. Now they rivaled the size of... well... he wasn't sure. What was larger than a grapefruit?

He groaned, softly. Yes, they were swollen so badly that they now defied proper description. And, even though it seemed impossible, he still had an erection.

The filly frowned a little as well, patting the male's hand lightly. One was still firmly cupped against her chest - she just wouldn't take 'no thank you' for an answer - but she was starting to have her doubts that it was helping. "Just hold on there, Ray. Just another half-day. Maybe we can take a detour through Forgetown, and stop by Gale's place to get you patched up right proper."

He leaned forward again, his head planted against Alandrea's back. Yes, visiting the healer sounded like a very good idea. The tigress had a reputation for both discretion and efficiency, and it helped that Rhaelyn knew her personally. He just needed to keep his mind off of the state that his nethers were in until then. It did no good to worry whether he'd ever be able to use them again or not.

"Ngh... it..." he wheezed softly, drawing in a deep breath before murmuring. "It wasn't hard. Geomancy, nf... was always my greatest proficiency. The stones were volcanic, nf... flecked with obsidian, and the wood was..."

"Aw, ain't no one who cares about how yer magic catkin hoodoo works," the filly grinned. "If I say it was amazin', then it was amazin'. Bought us all the time we needed."

Kira glanced back and forth between the panther and the filly uncertainly, but she finally nodded. "Yeah? Well, how'd you end up escaping?"

"Oh," Alandrea grinned. "Saga came back 'round. Ray thought he had ditched us after he weaseled his way out of the holding cells, but I never had a doubt."

Rhaelyn snorted, his ears twitching against the centaur's back. "Nf... he left us to, hf... fight a dozen of the Demon Queen's best warriors to the death!"

Alandrea scowled, reaching an elbow back to nudge the grousing panther. "Just one or two at a time, Ray. Nothin' we couldn't handle."

"And," he coughed again, covering his muzzle with his free hand. "He only came back to, nf... test out the Demonic Lust incantation." And another pause as he wiped his muzzle clean. "That he STOLE from my pack!"

Kira gaped, "Why in the world would you even have something like that?"

"I, ah..." the panther faltered. He feigned coughing again, his ears slicked back as he muttered evasively. "I'm a wizard. It's, nf... a wizard thing."

Kira looked skeptical, but Alandrea spoke up before she could say anything. "Ha, don't let Ray fool ya. He's just jealous. I ain't bi or nothin', but even I hafta admit that TDQ was a real looker." And she grinned, "But yeah, so I can't tell the rest o' that story in mixed company. We just mopped up the rest o' her warriors while she was, uh, busy. Then, presto, the world was saved!"

The filly pursed her lips, glancing back to give the panther a sly wink. "Y'know, I hear that she 'nd Saga still keep in touch. Like, pen pals or somethin'."

The panther shuddered against Alandrea's back and groaned again. "G-... good for him. That's, nf... just great. I'm so happy for him."

Alandrea laughed again. She seemed to be no end to her mirth, and she seemed intent on forcing it upon the panther whether he liked it or not. She'd get him to crack a smile sooner or later, no matter how much he played up his injuries.

Kira paused, her eartufts perked and her eyes wide. She had heard something. This time she was sure of it.

She slowed, carefully scanning the grim looking trees that lined the long-disused path. There were no signs of movement now, but she was absolutely certain that she had glimpsed something from the corner of her eye. She picked up her pace, quickly rejoining her companions.

They had continued their conversation in her absence, and seemed to now be on an entirely different subject.

"-just cant, nf... believe you've taken up smuggling again," the panther gasped. "Not after what, nf... happened the last time..." He winced, his whole body cringing as the centaur briefly stumbled. She righted herself swiftly, but it took the male a good moment longer to recover from her mis-step.

"Hey," she shrugged. "A gal's gotta eat. 'Sides, it ain't like this stuff really hurts anyone, and I don't smuggle nothin' what's alive no more." And she smirked a little, "'Sides, if I hadn't been takin' this stuff of the beaten path, I wouldn't have been here to save your bacon from that Treehemoth."

"I understand, nf... that..." Rhaelyn wheezed. "I just, nf... you should have told me what I was...ng... sitting on top of..."

She smirked a little wider. "Trust me, Ray, I can tell exactly what yer sittin' on. It's been pokin' me in the back all-"

"Hey," Kira hastened to interrupt. "I think we have a problem."

The joking and jostling stopped in an instant, as both filly and panther looked to the gryphon.

"What's up, Ki?"

"Pretty sure we're being followed," the hen chirped. "Something big and clumsy."

Alandrea frowned, her grin vanishing as she looked more serious than Kira had ever seen her. In an instant, her bow was in hand, an arrow knocked and the bow held parallel to her chin. The powerful string was drawn back so far that it was almost at her throat.

"I see it," she murmured. "It's another gryphon."

Jarol knew he had been made, this time, but it was so hard to sneak about with his sizable frame. Add on top of that the torn wing muscle, the broken ribs, and the swollen eggs and it all led directly to what he feared might happen. He was faced with two choices now-

"Hrrrraaagh!" He shrieked, tearing himself out of the brush as he moved to rapidly close the distance between the trio and himself. Even wounded he was still deceptively fast for his size, and he swiftly advanced upon the adventurers. He juked left, barely avoiding the first arrow, but the second and third sank deep into his hip and side.

He didn't let it slow him down.

"Don't worry," Alandrea shouted. "I've got him!" She knocked a magic arrow this time, something she was certain would fell the charging drake in one shot. She drew back the bowstring once more, and behind her the panther inadvertently leaned into her elbow as he tried drawing a bead of his own.

"Nf," he grunted, his nose bloodied as he flopped back against the mare's saddlebags.

"Oh shoot, sorry Ray!" The archer was distracted long enough to waste her last shot, for the beast was now upon them.

Kira moved to intercept the drake, but he had superior mass and momentum on his side. As she tried to deflect the living missile, Jarol managed to bat her out of the way with one heavy forelimb, but the hen was quick to twist about and gouge her talons into his side in passing.

Jarol winced, dragging the runt of a gryphon along with him, but he kept his attention focused on the archer. She was already trying to draw another bead even as he bore down on her, but a wicked swipe of his own claws sheared into the bow. The runed wood impossibly resisted his strike, but the string snapped and whipped upward to lash across Alandrea's face.

"Ah, shit!" the filly cursed. She was blinded with pain, blood already welling up to spatter across her marred face.

"Got you!" Quetzyl hissed triumphantly as she emerged from the brush behind the centaur. Things had worked out even better than she had thought they might. Jarol had drawn so much attention that she had been able to easily circle about to the other side of the melee.

She reared up, her talons gouging into and through the panther's pant leg, plunging carefully into the flesh of his thigh beneath. She had to remind herself that she was supposed to take him alive, but that didn't mean she couldn't maim him a little.

"Rhaelyn!" Kira jerked her head about, having heard the beastkin's pained hiss, and now she could see his peril. Forgetting all about Alandrea, she raked her talons through the muscles of Jarol's shoulder as she wrenched free from his body. Abandoning that fight, she twisted around to grab hold of the panther's other leg before he could be forced from his mount.

The mage gasped, the sudden weight of a gryphon on each leg pulling him that much harder against the bucking mare's back. He had been ready to do, well, something... but he was having an awfully hard time remembering what that was through the sudden twin-spikes of pain driving up into his abdomen.

He had been lulled into a false sense of security over the past day. Sure, the constant jostling and pressure had been painful, but it was a low, persistent ache. Although he had thought himself inured to it, the renewed onset of true testicular agony tore through him with unfettered ease. He was left gasping for breath, his hands buried against his crotch as he desperately tried to... what? To pull his balls out from between himself and the wildly bucking horse?

Quetzyl snarled, pulling harder against the limb in her grip. The hated rogue had reacted much more swiftly than she had hoped she would, and now she was left playing a game of beastkin tug-of-war, with a bucking centaur between herself and her foe. It was less than ideal.

She tried pulling the panther backward, but the saddlebags were in the way. A deft snap of her beak sheared through the straps, and the whole mess of bags and pouches went sliding off the other side of the frantic filly. She even got some of the mare as well, but she had no time to enjoy the taste of blood against her tongue.

Alandrea took it no better. The poor centaur was in a panic, and despite her best efforts her equine instincts were taking over. Surrounded on all sides by gryphons, friendly or otherwise, she was now doing her best to wrestle with the oversized drake that was trying to tear her arms off.

Jarol's talons were wrapped tightly about her upper limbs, and his beak was clamped down on one forearm with only her metal bracer protecting her hand from being shorn off entirely. Still, the metal was crumpling, and she could feel the bones grating against each other as they threatened to break beneath the assault.

So she did the only thing she could think of. She bucked harder.

The entire mare's body dipped low, her legs buckled beneath her as she readied to throw all of the combatants away from her. Against her back, Rhaelyn suddenly found himself practically held aloft by the hens clinging to each leg, as the horse's back fell away from beneath him. It was confusing, yes, but it gave him a split second to breath.

He pivoted at the waist, hand angled downward to project a sputtering gout of flame over the scaled bitch that was clinging to him. Yes, he'd burn his own leg, but at this point he really didn't care. The ring glimmered, spit out a brief flash of smoke and fire, and then the overused red stone finally cracked and burst into a million motes of crystalline dust.

It was still enough to force the serpent gryphon to shrink back, though, her eyes closed tight as she saw the attack coming. Her scale-like feathers were resistant to fire, but not entirely immune, and even the brief wave of heat that washed across her body was enough to goad her into releasing her prey.

Then Alandrea's entire equine body came thundering up between the panther's legs.

Her scrambling hooves had finally found enough traction and leverage to allow her to buck properly, but the only victim of her first attack was the hapless male. He had slid along her back without the mare's saddlebags to stop him, and by the time her body swung back upward his ill-fated organs were planted squarely over her tailbone.

The panther's entire world fell away, his thighbones nearly dislocated as the equine's entire rump briefly tried to contest the space between his legs. His balls, soft and well-swollen from a week of abuse, were suddenly crushed flat like grapes in a winepress, and the beastkin's entire body was catapulted up - and then sideways - right off of the frantically flailing filly.

Kira was knocked head over heels as Rhaelyn was suddenly torn from her grasp, her own grip on his leg lost, but that slight resistance still prompting the flying feline to sail in her direction. He arced over her, howling, and went crashing through the brush at the side of the path. She was stunned, but she could see that the gryphon opposite her on the other side of the bucking mare was just as startled.

"Heh," Quetzyl's beak twisted into an ugly smirk as she swiftly realized what had happened. Not what she had planned, but this was almost as good. She twisted about as she tried to take stock of the battlefield, and was promptly kicked in the head as Alandrea bucked again. The blow sent her twisting and tumbling off the opposite side of the path, and the stunned hen swiftly disappeared into the brush.

"H-... help!" the filly gasped, one hand impotently thrashing against Jarol's head as she tried to force him off of her. She tried to buck again, but her hooves found no targets. She had no blades handy, and the drake had now managed to drive the talon's of one hand through her ribcage. She was fairly certain that her lung had collapsed - but fortunately she had three more.

Kira scrambled around the thrashing centaur, throwing herself onto the drake's back as she renewed her assault. She came at him from his wounded side, her beak snapping against his spine just behind his wings, her talons once again gouging into the male's side.

She raked against him again and again, shredding muscle and flesh, but the drake seemed to have an impossible amoung of stamina. The rage and blood lust had taken him, and it seemed he might continue to fight until well after he was dead.

In desperation, Kira lashed about for a more vulnerable region, one avian eye locking on the male's bouncing genitals. They looked swollen and bruised - had she kicked him, too? Her scuffle with this drake seemed so long ago that she couldn't remember. Still, she had to try something before he killed the floundering archer.

Her talons lashed downward as she braced against Jarol's body, the wounded drake's blood spattering against her as he struggled. She knew she could easily rend the male's organs right from his body with one swipe, but that might not be enough to shock him out of his battle rage. Instead, she grabbed them roughly, managing to capture one of the impressively swollen glands in her clawed grip.

And Jarol froze as he felt those scaled fingers curling into place, the memory of Quetzyl's punishment cutting right through his blood-tinged haze. His beak went just lax enough that Alandrea was able to tear her arm free from his grip, and both of her bloody fists pounded into the male's abruptly wide eyes.

The drake shrieked, his head jerking back as he was suddenly blinded, and he struggled to maintain his grip on his would-be prey. His body twisted as he tried to instead pull away from the hen at his side, but she doggedly pursued, and even worse she suddenly bore down on the egg in her grasp. It was a desperate attack, not a carefully calculated torment like Quetzyl's squeeze had been, and so it was a thousand times worse.

The male's bloodied eyes rolled wildly as pain sudden seared into his body, the unyielding talons swiftly crushing his captive gland out of shape as if it were dough beneath a rolling pin. He gagged as the pain tore through his stomach and sparked along his spine from vertebra to vertebra. His own talons spasmed and, despite his best efforts, the centaur finally managed to tear free entirely.

Alandrea panted and gasped, stumbling a few steps away before recovering her sundered bow. She waited a split second until the drake snapped at her blindly, then swung the entire thing about like a quarterstaff to lash into the side of the gryphon's neck.

Jarol gagged hard, his throat suddenly closing off as the centaur's attack struck him soundly. He lurched about, blind and breathless, lashing at anything he could even glimpse. The hen was still at his side, seemingly untouchable, and now he couldn't even shriek in agony as her other hand managed to grasp his remaining egg.

Something struck him again - this time he was fairly certain that it was one of the centaur's hooves. He tried to right himself, but it felt like his brain was bouncing around wildly in his skull, so he could do nothing as his entire body collapsed over into the bloody dirt. He uttered a gurgling wail, his throat working overtime to put a voice to his torment, even as the rogue did her utmost to turn the drake into a hen.

And Kira had only started, now sprawled across the drake's side as she tried to keep him pinned beneath her. She knew that she couldn't let him back up. He had been fearsome when he had built up a full head of steam, and she knew it was only through their combined effort that she and the centaur had managed to even temporarily fell him.

The hen glanced up desperately, but her heart sank as she saw the filly waver and fall. The archer was too badly wounded to continue fighting, and she collapsed to the ground bleeding from her numerous wounds.

Kira grunted as the drake beneath her managed to plant a hindpaw against her chest, and tried to kick her free. She twisted about, stubbornly staying close as she worked and worked at the orbs in her grip. How stupidly durable could the things possibly be? She had crushed the other drake's egg without even trying, but this one...

Jarol uttered a plaintive squawk as a tearing pain cut wetly through his gut. For a moment he thought he might have been disemboweled, but no. There wasn't enough blood for that. He uttered a ragged cough, his eyes rolling about wildly, and then slumped to the ground as agony overtook his spasming body.

The hen panted, finally releasing her grip on the drake's sac as he ceased fighting back. She... she had never felt anything quite like that. The organs in her trembling grip had been impossibly durable and malleable at the same time, like a handful of grotesquely warm clay, but one had finally collapsed in her grip with a satisfying 'squik' sound that was just barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears.

She groaned. She was bruised where the drake had kicked her, and she bled from a dozen cuts she had suffered in the melee. She tried to force herself back into action, to finish him where he lay, but her body rebelled. She managed a few wavering steps, then sat heavily back onto her haunches as she took stock of her foe.

He was still awake, it seemed. His eyes were wide, his pupils dilated down so small that she doubted he could still see. His body was heaving and trembling, but was more or less still, and the talons of one of his hands - the one she hadn't crippled - were weakly gouging furrows into the dirt path. He was drooling uncontrollably against the ground, his whole body shuddering with the occasional cough or groan he managed to utter.

All that from losing just one ball. Kira was impressed. He had fought like a thing possessed, but it was clear that he was down for the count now, whether awake or not. She panted hard, trying to imagine how she might proceed.

'I wonder how he would react to losing the other one?' the little voice whispered at the back of her brain. Kira grunted in soft agreement.

Her scaled fingers curled into a fist, and she stumbled forward to close on the drake once more. Her other hand set against his thigh to push his leg out of the way, and she snarled inarticulately as she thumped a punch right into the male's bloated sac. She couldn't tell if she was hitting his remaining egg or not. His whole pouch was swollen and discolored now, but that didn't discourage her.

She drew in another deep breath, feeling the strength slowly return to her muscles, and she used it to level another punch between the drake's trembling thighs. And another. And another.

Jarol uttered a wavering whine, his eyes rolled back so far that only bloodshot white was visible. His body shuddered with each strike, but he made no move to defend himself. He couldn't. His muscles were torn, and those that weren't refused to heed his commands.

Kira drew in another slow breath, leveling another blow into the drake's devastated nethers. That was, what, the fifth blow? The sixth? No matter, because she quickly doubled that number, striking again and again until her knuckles actually grew sore.

She winced at the ache in her wrist - she had met resistance on a few of the strikes, from what she assumed must be the male's pelvis. It was painful, but she just used that to better pin the male's remaining organ between knuckle and bone more efficiently with each punch.

Finally she groaned, pulling back. She had made little progress in fully unmanning her fallen foe, although from his feeble whimpering she doubted that he felt the same way. She at least assured herself that he was unlikely to perform properly again - perhaps she could try again once she had...

Her head jerked upright. Rhaelyn! In the heat of battle, she had completely forgotten about the beastkin. HER beastkin!

'No, finish him!' that familiar little voice cried. It had laughed gleefully as she had mangled the drake, but now it protested so loudly that her brain ached. She shook her head violently, trying to shake the voice into silence. There were more important things to do than satiate her bloodlust.

Kira forced herself back to her feet, casting her gaze over the battlefield. The drake was felled, of course, as was Alandrea. The poor centaur was in bad shape, but the hen forced herself to look elsewhere. There was no sign of Rhaelyn, nor any sign of Quetzyl.

"Agh!"

She perked her eartufts at that familiar agonized squeal, strength surging through her muscles as the floodgates opened and adrenaline saturated her body. Leaping to the road's edge, she tore into the brush to rescue the wounded wizard.

Rhaelyn was indeed in need of rescue. He had not fared being bucked particularly well, and the landing had been almost as bad. He could only imagine that the impact had shattered his pelvis into a thousand pieces, hopelessly crushing his twig and berries both in the process. It was... well, he could only imagine it was what it might feel like to be kneed in the groin by an ogre. Or a giant. Or a god.

He convulsed against the trunk of the tree he had landed against, the bark tearing into his back as his whole body spasmed with agony. His stomach, worn raw already, quivered and threatened to empty once more - but he had thrown up so much over the past day that there was simply no more bile.

It didn't stop him from coughing and hacking, though, spitting blood and saliva into his hands. He assumed the blood was from, well, the exertion of magic and the strike of his jaw against the ground when he had landed. But really, he didn't know, maybe he had been hit so hard this time that his pelvis had crushed right into his internal organs. He didn't know if that was even possible, but it felt like it might be.

He coughed again, so hard that he thought he might actually spit out whatever was left of his testicles. Biting down onto his tongue, he swallowed hard as he tried to focus through the pain. Were his legs broken? They certainly weren't moving, so...

Rhaelyn pressed lightly to one hip, careful to keep his fingers flat. His urge, of course, was to cup his obliterated nethers and weep, but he couldn't afford to do that at the moment. Kira and Alandrea needed him.

His thighbone still seemed to be in the socket, at least. That was good. With his other hand, he pressed lightly into his opposite hip, and was swiftly satisfied that despite some tenderness his legs remained firmly rooted in place. That arm seemed to be broken, though, so his relief was severely limited. Regardless, that meant that the problem with his legs was likely lower.

He forced one eye open, his vision blurry from the tears of agony that were matting his cheeks. Oh, yes, there was the problem. Aside from the destruction of his genitals, his impromptu flight appeared to have resulted in at least one of his legs bending the wrong way at the knee.

Was it broken? Dislocated? He couldn't exactly bend over to check on it at the moment.

A scaled fist came slamming down into the crux of the panther's injured legs, and impossibly the pain grew even more intense. His lips curled, his sharp teeth bared as pain racked his body so severely that it threatened to snap his spine.

"How are they hanging?" came the sibilant whisper, as Quetzyl slipped around from behind the tree he had landed against. She echoed the sarcastic sentiment that she had so often heard Kira express, when she had spied upon the pair.

"Nnk-... g... ghuh..."

Quetzly smiled sweetly, like something that the beastkin might see at a home for the metamagically insane. The gleeful glitter in her eyes was perfectly rational, though. She wasn't insane. She just liked tormenting people.

"Ooooh," she crooned sympathetically. A taloned hand planted against the panther's face as she pushed him over, rolling him onto his back as she straddled over him. She settled beak-to-nose, standing over the poor beastkin as she simpered. "Ssssso much hurt. It hardly sseemss fair, yesss?"

Rhaelyn groaned, shuddering again as he found himself helpless to resist. He had his rings, of course, and even a few amulets that hung forgotten about his neck, but he couldn't even think to summon the energy needed to trigger them. His sword remained at his side, but again he lacked the strength to even draw it.

Quetzyl frowned a little, faintly disappointed that the fight already seemed beaten out of her prey. She had hoped for more reason to maim him, but... did she really need a reason? Yes, The Queen wanted him alive, but... she wasn't going to sleep with him, was she? Would she complain if she sheared away the poor male's aching sexual organs?

Perhaps sensing that his time was rapidly growing short, the panther reached deep and mustered all of his strength into one last act of defiance. He shuddered, his muscles seizing up, but he managed to lift his one good leg harshly up between the scaled hen's thighs.

The blow landed knee-first, striking just hard enough to make her grunt, but nothing more. The strike had certainly stung - her armored scales didn't cover THAT part of her anatomy - but the beastkin was almost as weak as a kitten. Quetzyl snarled, resisting the immediate urge to rip the panther's throat out with her beak, instead forcing herself to smile again. She would have an unpleasant bruise, but she was about to do so much worse in retaliation.

"My turn," she whispered. Her body hugged low, close to the male's, her hindleg repositioned as she tried to remember how the hated rogue had done it. That one had been on her side when she had struck the panther, but Quetzyl was fairly certain she could do it from above as well. Almost lovingly nuzzling against the teary-eyed male, she jerked one hindleg upward to knee him in return.

"Nk!" he grunted, his teeth snapping about his tongue this time. His mouth filled with blood, but that was a secondary concern to the searing pain that now paralyzed his left side. He couldn't even buck or thrash anymore, instead simply lying there as he trembled with unimaginable pain.

Quetzyl kept smiling, carefully watching the beastkin's face as she swiftly jerked her knee into his loins once more. He cried aloud in pain, this time, his eyes rolled back and one hand planted uselessly against the hen's side as if to somehow push her out of place.

She laughed, and kneed him again. It was an awkward motion, but she was rapidly increasing her proficiency in the maneuver - she wondered if it would work against a drake as well? Even if it did, she couldn't imagine that it would be nearly as fun. The beastkin's face twisted into the most marvelous expressions each time she drove her scaled knee into his core, and she had to wonder what face he might make when she finally hit them hard enough to burst.

Or... had they already?

She pulled her leg from between his, instead reaching down to tear away the cloth of his pants with her talons. One eye angled downward, to study her lovely targets, she uttered a rasping chuckle as she manhandled the grossly swollen flesh in her hand. It was an ugly sound that sent a shiver down the weary panther's spine.

Still, Quetzyl had to marvel. Despite all of the abuse that the male had suffered, both at her talons and at the talons of others, he seemed to have two orbs remaining. They were impossibly soft and swollen, the well-pressed sac that held them an ugly shade of dark purple beneath the thin layer of black fur, but still there were two.

She paused, hefting the eggs in her palm. Did beastkin only have two? Yes, she had to assume that their anatomy resembled that of a drake. Which meant...

The hen arched a brow, her gaze angled a little higher. Why was the male at full arousal? Was it something she had done? Or the rogue? Or the centaur? Was it broken, perhaps? Was this just what happened to all beastkin when they were suitably bashed and bludgeoned into submission?

She gave an ugly smile, releasing her grip so she could nuzzle at the panther's face. Her tongue dragged across his cheek, so she could taste his blood and tears. It tasted bitter, but oh so sweet at the same time. "Do you think I'm pretty, little morsssel?"

Perhaps this was why The Queen wanted him so badly? Quetzyl bore a vague resemblance to her liege. Yes she was only half her size, and she was considerably weaker, but her plumage was similar. Her scales were almost the same. Did the beastkin actually like this kind of thing? To be cringing and broken beneath the talons of a proper hen?

"Get away from him," Kira hissed. "You bitch!"

Quetzyl laughed, her jagged beak briefly gaped with genuine mirth. She rose, one taloned hand planted to the panther's heaving chest, one hind paw grinding down onto his bloated sac as she turned her gaze toward the rogue.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll kill you," Kira snarled softly. Her feathers and fur bristled, her wings flared, and her eyes... they almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the nearly full moon.

Quetzyl hesitated, her pulse quickening. That was... she... the rogue seemed different somehow. She was still a laughably small runt of a thing, but there was blood on her talons and rage in her eyes. The serpent gryphon had no doubt that she must have killed Jarol, and... was there even the remotest possibility that she could do the same to her?

The scaled hen shook her head. No, that was an absurd thought. A hundred would-be rivals had been crushed beneath her jagged claws, and this 'Kira' would be no different. Quetzyl shifted her position, bearing down just enough weight onto her hindpaw to make the panther gurgle with agony, and then she hopped off of his twitching form.

"Then try," she hissed. Her scaled wings flared, spread so wide that they almost blotted out the moon behind her, and she took to the air.

Kira didn't even hesitate, her own feathered wings stretching out in counterpoint to her foe's. They lashed against the air, her legs kicked against the ground, and she was suddenly aloft. She shot through the air like a bullet, streaking right toward the hunter.

"Oh," Quetzyl croaked. Apparently the rogue could fly again. That was unexpected.

Kira crashed into Quetzyl with all the force her sleek frame could muster, even as the scaled hen tried to twist and flap her way clear. Both gryphons twisted through the air, and the shardclaw hunter grunted as one of her wings smashed into the wavering form of a twisted tree. Her wing bent badly, and then the joint cracked and popped out of place, sending her spiraling toward the ground.

Quetzyl's good wing flared out as she tried to control their descent, but Kira's wings were working against hers. It almost seemed like the infuriating rogue was trying to steer their fall, although the hunter didn't know to what end - she just knew that she didn't want to find out.

The two twisted against each other again, both of the gryphons rendered breathless as they dashed off the side of another tree, but both combatants forced themselves to keep fighting through the pain. Kira's eyes flashed, her gaze flitting downward as she carefully selected a spot, and one taloned fist lashed out at Quetzyl's remaining wing. She couldn't hope to actually cut through those armored scales, but this time she held something. An arrow.

Quetzyl uttered a surprised squawk as something pierced her wing, and a split second later she was blinded by a brilliant flash of light. Her good wing was weighted down by ice and frost, her flesh freezing in the unnatural cold, and she fell from the sky like a scaled stone.

Kira went with her, though, for their talons were locked and their hindclaws unsheathed. They tore and batted desperately at each other, and at the very last instant Quetzyl managed to twist so that her rival was beneath her when she crashed to the earth.

They were both stunned by the thunderous impact, brush uprooted and rocks all but splintered beneath them. There was no question that Kira took the worse of the impact, though, her wings folding in all the wrong ways as she struck against the ground, and her neck twisting as her shoulders bounced off an old, charred log. Pain sliced through her brain, and she was pinned as the panting Quetzyl slumped atop her.

"Pleassse," the serpent hen hissed in frustration. She dashed her frozen wing against the ground, painfully shattering away the ice that covered it, and then her beak descended toward Kira's throat. "Jusst die!"

Quetzyl was suddenly ripped free, and she squawked in surprise and fury as she was lifted high into the air. Below her, Kira couldn't help but smile as she tried to work way back to her feet. The shardclaw hunter was so stupid - that never would have worked on an even slightly smarter foe.

The scaled gryphon squirmed and thrashed about, trying to figure out what was happening. It was only as she was raised well above the earth that she realized she was in the grasp of a Treehemoth. It was smaller than the one she had killed before, but still large enough to pose a threat - especially in her wounded state.

She hissed in agony as splintery teeth gouged against her scaled hindleg. They didn't break her flesh, instead shattering into flinders, but the pressure of the beast's wooden jaw was still enough that her leg might be crushed if she didn't break free. Was that what her wing had struck against in mid-flight? Had she somehow woken the creature while it was sleeping? Did they even sleep?

Kira coughed, stumbling unsteadily over to the fallen beastkin before she collapsed at his side. She was spent. She could only hope that the tree-beast was enough to kill Quetzyl, or that the hunter and the beast would both kill each other, because she couldn't fight anymore.

With a whimper, the hen collapsed next to Rhaelyn, her beak pressed lightly to his cheek.

He coughed and stirred, feeling the wetness of the gryphon's tears against his face. His fur was already drenched with his own pained tears, but somehow hers felt different. Slowly, an inch at a time, the wizard fought through the pain that wracked his body and forced himself upright.

"K-... Kira," he groaned. She didn't respond.

"No no no no no!" Quetzyl shrieked, somewhere overhead. Branches and sap-like blood began to rain as she hacked into the creature that held her. The beast flailed at her in turn, its dozens of branches trying to constrict the life from her frame.

Again it tried to eat her, this time head-first, but with no more success than it's last attempt. Quetzyl bit into something - it's tongue perhaps, or maybe some other part of it's insides. With a firm wrench of her neck, she ripped out a mouthful of the beast's softer organs - or whatever the Treehemoth had - and it finally released her.

She tumbled to the ground in a heap, her panting harsh and uneven. This was... no, she didn't care anymore. Now she was going to kill everyone. The wizard, the centaur, the rogue, the tree, and even Jarol if he still lived. She was tired of this.

Quetzyl rolled to her feet as the treehemoth thrashed about above her. One slit-pupiled eye scanned the darkness - the other was swollen shut now - and her snake-like tail lashed about behind her like a whip. She could see now where the rogue had fallen. Good, that would just make her easier to k-

"No," Rhaelyn coughed. He was on his feet, although he had to lean heavily against a non-animate tree to do so. One leg was bent and broken beneath him, but the other waved unsteadily to keep him upright. He stood over his fallen companion as if to protect her.

The serpent hen almost laughed. Surely this had to be a farce? He could barely stand, and she was fairly certain that he couldn't even see - nor breed. That last detail didn't really matter in terms of combat, but she felt a warm glow at knowing she had almost certainly put an end to the wizard's love-life.

She took a step forward, as if daring the wizard to do something. He didn't. Her confidence grew, and she took another step, and another, slowly closing the distance. She would enjoy peeling off his skin. Maybe if she did it carefully, he'd live long enough for her to feed it to him.

Rhaelyn drew in a deep breath, his ribs groaning. His ribcage felt like it was full of broken glass, and his insides felt like they had been trampled over by a dozen horses. He couldn't feel anything below his waist - which, honestly, was kind of a relief at this point. He actually was blind with blood and pain, or mostly so, but one ear twitched ever so slightly as he made out the crunch of dirt and twigs beneath Quetzyl's talons. His head turned as he made out the slightest hint of movement against his badly blurred vision.

His hand twitched, and the sky split. There were no clouds, but despite that a brilliant flash of lightning seared down from the heavens as if to cut the world in two.

Unfortunately, it missed completely.

It touched down a dozen paces distant from the scaled hen, shearing halfway through the wounded Treehemoth, and sending a rain of flaming branches to the ground. The monster uttered a mournful wail as it was torn open by the heavenly flash of light, but it's cries were drowned out by subsequent the crack of thunder.

"Heh, ssstupid beasstkin." Quetzyl laughed. Yes, he had to be blind. She quickened her pace.

Rhaelyn's ear twitched again as the hen spoke, his hand tensing slightly as another bolt of lightning tore through the sky. This time it touched down just a handspan from the smug hunter, blasting a smoldering crater in the ground and hurling her sideways as if she had been struck by a carriage.

Quetzyl shrieked in fury as she tried to pick herself back up again, but her muscles spasmed uncontrollably as that unearthly energy coursed through her. She managed to rise halfway back to her feet, but then fell again with a ragged moan.

The panther coughed weakly, slumping a little. His heart skipped a beat - the exertion was just too much. He never liked using the lightning ring - an electrum band set with a small piece of fulgurite - even when he was in the best of health. In his current condition, it was a death wish. The gods didn't like it when mortal beastkin meddled with the workings of the Heavenly realm, and the spell swiftly set to leeching what little energy he had left.

"Rhaelyn!" Kira was suddenly startled awake as the second crack of thunder pierced her addled senses. She was disoriented and her whole body ached, but she still surged to her feet as quickly as she could. Rhaelyn needed her help!

And the panther uttered a soft yelp as Kira's skull thumped right up between his legs as she tried to leap to her feet right beneath him, lifting him to his toes and then pitching him forward into the brush. He moaned, twitching feebly. Apparently he had just rediscovered the ability to feel what was going on below his waist.

"O-... oh," she uttered meekly. "Rhaelyn, I'm so so sorry!"

Quetzyl rasped softly, her body spasming with both pain and laughter. It was almost a absurd, really. Did she even have to kill these two? Surely they would kill each other if given enough time together.

Kira moaned, not in pain this time, but in shame. She glanced to her felled foe, her face burning with embarrassment as the male she had thought to rescue writhed on the ground at her feet. Well, at least there was one thing she could do right.

She stepped gingerly over the fallen beastkin, moving toward the fallen hunter instead.

"N-... no, you can't!" Quetzyl hissed!

Kira ignored her, moving to the base of the Treehemoth instead. The massive beast had finally fallen still, mortally wounded by the lightning that had torn it in half. It had managed to pull itself almost entirely from the ground, perhaps in an attempt to flee, but now it just meant that the gryphon could topple it that much more easily.

"Shut up," Kira grunted as she pressed her shoulder to the dead monster. It shifted, but only a little before it resisted her.

"Wait!" Quetzyl hissed louder, trying to push back to her feet without success.

"I said-" Kira grunted again, throwing herself against the Treehemoth's frame. "Shut up!"

And this time it fell, it's insect-like legs ripping from the earth and the bulk of it's frame toppling like a- well, like a felled tree. It toppled right toward the scaled hen, crashing right through her defensively raised talons, and crushed her to the ground.

For Quetzyl, at least, the world went red and white, then swiftly faded to black.

Kira panted, limping back to the panther's side. He seemed to be awake, but just barely, so she clamped her beak down onto his sleeve before laboriously dragging him back toward the path.

She didn't care if the tree had killed Quetzyl or not - it was still more efficient than hoping she could pierce the filthy monster's scaled hide. At the very least, she could hope that some other beast would eventually come along to finish the job for her.

The hen managed to power through the brush, pulling her panther back to the road's edge, but her legs quivered like jelly beneath her. She dropped him there, casting about until she had found his pack, and she desperately fumbled within to find that familiar bottle.

Her heart caught in her throat - the bottle was there, but it had been broken. Somewhere in the battle, perhaps when it had been thrown from the mare's back, the leaden glass had cracked. She lifted it carefully, the sticky liquid running over her talons as she studied the bottle. Much of what had remained was now saturating the inside of the backpack, with only a few ounces still remaining at the bottom of the flask.

She groaned miserably, but she greedily ran her tongue over the worn leather. She lapped up every trace of the spilled potion she could find, wincing a little as she swallowed the occasional tiny piece of glass, but finally her strength returned. Her bruises receded a little, her aching muscles dulled, and she looked back to the wizard. The rest would have to go to him.

Kira moved to his side more steadily, but as she raised the bottle to his lips he moaned and turned his head away.

Rhaelyn had one eye opened to a glistening crack, his ears twitching weakly as he set the back of his hand to the bottle. His body shuddered a bit, but he was too weak to even cough now. Still, his intentions were clear.

The hen groaned, glancing in the same direction that the panther was looking. Was he trying to tell her that the centaur needed the potion more than he did? That was absurd! She tried to pour it into his muzzle again, but he stubbornly pressed the lip of the flask away.

"K-... Kira, she'll... ng... she'll die...."

The panther's voice was weak, tinged with that soft mewl of pain that she had thought so cute. And it was cute, normally, but right now it just broke her heart. She thought about disobeying Rhaelyn's command, but he would hate her forever if she did.

'Give it to him,' the voice in her head commanded.

"N-... no, I can't." Kira frowned now. The voice usually seemed like it was trying to help her, but she wasn't so sure now.

'The centaur is a rival', it coaxed at the darker part of her brain. 'Let her die. He will forgive you'.

"No," she moaned. The panther had slipped into unconsciousness now, and it would be so simple to just pour the potion into his mouth. But she relented, gently laying him back out against the earth. "He wouldn't."

Kira hastened to Alandrea's side, and the centaur gave her a weak grin. She was still awake, but the amount of blood spilled out onto the road beneath her was truly alarming.

"Hey," she whispered weakly. "Yer still alive. S'zat mean we won?"

"Ssh," Kira murmured. She pressed the flask to the archer's face, tilting it upward to ease the last of the slick substance into her mouth. "Swallow."

The effect was dramatic, and even as the filly was swallowing down her second mouthful her wounds were already closing. The rended flesh at her side sealed back up, her bruised and bloodied arms smoothed again, and her shallow breathing swiftly evened out.

"Ugh," Alandrea muttered distastefully. "Is that...?"

Kira almost laughed, pulling the bottle away as the archer stirred. There hadn't been much left, but apparently it had still been enough to do the job. "Yeah, it is. You pervert."

The filly repeated her disgusted sound, wiping over her lips with her a hand. It came away with a little blood, but also a little of the white gunk. She sighed, and then dutifully licked it off her fingers. "Rgh, I hate havin' to drink this stuff."

"Are you kidding," Kira laughed. She looked at the bottle - it was empty know, so she let the cracked flask fall to the ground. "I might love Rhaelyn, but if I ever meet even a single dragon in my life, I'm going down on him right then and there to show my thanks."

"Uh," the centaur blinked, both at the imagery and at the revelation. She glanced around, though, as a sudden thought came to her. "Ray! Is he-"

Kira sighed, glancing sidelong to the feline's slumped form. "He's-... look, are you going to be okay?"

'You're a fool,' the little voice whispered, and then it faded away.

Alandrea groaned, her equine half stirring as she worked her way to her feet. The movement of her legs was awkward, like a foal taking it's first steps, but she persisted. "Y-... yeah, I think so. Thanks, Ki."

The hen nodded, and she hastened over to the mage again. As she moved to him, she couldn't help but notice that the other gryphon - Jarol - had disappeared. Apparently he hadn't been quite as incapacitated as she had thought. She breathed a soft thanks to every god she could think of, relieved that the maimed drake had decided to flee instead of fight.

"Rhaelyn?" she murmured. He didn't reply, so she gently nudged at him. "Hey, wake up."

He didn't stir, although his chest rose in a slow, labored breath. He was alive, but he was also clearly on the edge of death. She felt over his body carefully - he had a few cracked ribs, a broken arm, a dislocated knee, and...

"Nf, hey," Alandrea trotted over, her bow in hand. She had already restrung it, and seemed ready to shoot at any more errant gryphons that might suddenly appear. "Don't keep a gal in suspense, Ki. How is he?"

"His balls," the hen sighed. Her voice was small, her talons gingerly cupping the unfortunate male's seemingly empty sac. "I, um... I can't find them."

"Oh," the filly's nose wrinkled as she took that in. "Well... damn."

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Epilogue the First - Gale

"He'll be fine," Gale announced as she quietly closed the door to the panther's room behind her.

"That's all I needed to hear," Alandrea grinned. "Knew the big guy'd pull through. Seen him take plenty worse in the past, and he bounced right back every time."

Kira breathed a sigh of relief, her body untensing for the first time in the past day. They had traveled hard to bring Rhaelyn to Forgetown as swiftly as possible, but that had still given the hen half a day to worry about what the healer would tell them. She was both mentally and physically exhausted.

"Hey, remind Ray that he still owes me twenty arrows," the filly laughed.

The hen furrowed her brow, her tone deadpan. "Really?"

But the centaur was already gone, the front entrance to Gale's home left ajar in her wake. Apparently she had places to go, and money to make.

Kira snorted, but the white tigress was quick to soothe her irritation.

"Don't take it personally," Gale smiled. "Alandrea has always been that way. The fact that she waited until now to leave shows that she really cares, though."

"You think so?" the gryphon sounded skeptical.

The tigress laughed softly, and the sound was almost musical. Kira could practically feel her stress melting away just standing near the healer. "Goodness, yes. She waited until I said that Rhaelyn would be alright, and she didn't even try to charge an additional fee for being delayed."

Kira snorted again, but she nodded. Yes, that did make sense.

She frowned, though, glancing toward the door to the panther's room. "But, uh... you're sure? He'll be fine?"

The tigress smiled again, sitting lightly next to the hen. There were no chairs next to the gryphon, but the healer seemed to have no qualms about simply settling onto the floor with her. "Yes, I'm certain of it."

"But, his... um..." Kira hesitated. Was she allowed to talk about the male's real injuries yet? He had told her not to, but... surely the healer would have noticed them?

Gale blushed lightly, but she didn't hesitate to comfort the worried hen. "Yes, most of his wounds were superficial, and the potions have already begun to take affect. As for his, ah, testicles-" and her blush deepened ever so slightly, "He'll need a few days to fully recuperate, but those will be fine as well."

The gryphon looked relieved, but she was still uncertain. "But they were gone!"

The healer gave another soft laugh, one soft hand settling over Kira's in a reassuring gesture. "Well, yes and no. When the, ah, testicles feel threatened they can sometimes retract into the body for safety. Or, ah... sometimes they can be forced there by excessive trauma."

She paused delicately, still blushing. "But, I've... managed to coax them back out. He's resting now. It will take time for the, ah, swelling to go down."

Kira nodded quietly. Yes, she vaguely recalled the panther saying something about how that could happen, but she had honestly thought he was teasing her. She sighed. Yes, she was relieved that he hadn't been castrated, but at the same time she had to wonder if he would ever forgive her for what he had been through.

Gale could tell that the gryphon was still upset, so she rose and guided Kira to one of the couches that lined her sitting area. The hen hesitated - no one had ever offered to actually let her sit on furniture before - but the healer managed to coax her into taking a seat on the cushioned surface.

"Trust me," the tigress smiled. "I traveled with Rhaelyn for two years. I dealt with many, many similar injuries during our time together."

And she frowned a little, her tailtip twitching to register her discomfort. "More, ah, more times than I'm really comfortable with, but..." and she smiled again. "Well, if I don't, then who will?"

Kira smiled a little in turn, but she was unconvinced.

The healer nodded patiently, sitting with the hen as she purred comfortingly. "Why don't you tell me everything that happened. It might make you feel better."

And she did. The words came slowly at first, but soon the floodgate opened, and the gryphon told her everything.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Epilogue the Second - Quetzyl

The scaled hen coughed, her eyes abruptly snapping open. It was late evening now, which meant... what? She had been out for most of a day, then? Two days? More?

She groaned, rising unsteadily to her feet. A tree was toppled across her body, but it was a simple matter to push it aside. Her head was killing her. It felt like her skull might have been cracked open, but she pressed her talons to her scalp and they came away unbloodied.

What, exactly, had transpired?

She remembered stalking her prey all across the Gryphon Territories, and then the ambush, and...

Oh, right, that hadn't worked out very well. Ah well, at the very least she could hope that she had successfully castrated that wretched beastkin. Not that she really had anything against him, to be honest, but it would certainly teach her rival a lesson.

She groaned again, stretching out bruised muscles as she began to scan the area. Nothing but her wings seemed to be broken, although she had clearly been knocked unconscious. But... she wasn't dead?

So why hadn't Jarol woken her? Or at the very least, why hadn't he dragged her to safety?

She scanned the area, half-expecting to find his rotting corpse bloating in the waning sunlight, torn ragged by the odd scavengers that roamed the smoldering woods. But no, there was no sign of him. No sign beyond his obvious tracks, anyway.

The hen snorted, her eyes narrowed as she studied the tracks. It looked like the drake had also survived the battle, had come to her side, and then... walked away? Back toward the Shardclaw encampment, from the looks of it.

She hissed with irritation. He had really left her for dead? That was infuriating, but she found herself having a hard time getting worked up about it. She probably would have done the same.

Quetzyl briefly considered pursuing him. He was obviously injured, and she could probably overtake him within half a day, but what was the point? They had failed, and he would doubtless be slaughtered by The Queen even if he survived the trek back.

A frown worked onto her jagged beak as she thought on that. She would almost certainly be killed upon return, too. That didn't sound particularly appealing.

The hen stared back toward the Gryphon Territories proper, weighing her options. On the one talon there was almost certain death, and on the other talon...

She uttered a hissing sigh, her scaled shoulders slumping. "Well, sssshit."

And she turned toward the civilized regions, trying to remember where the nearest of those filthy beastkin cities might be. If that runt of a hen could find success as a tribeless rogue, then so could she.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Epilogue the Third - Rhaelyn

It had been ten days since the conclusion of his ill-fated adventure, and Rhaelyn had finally returned home. After all of the abuse he had suffered over the past month, it was nice to finally be safe and sound in familiar surroundings once more.

He was bored within a day.

Even with magical assistance it had taken Rhaelyn the the better part of a week to recover from his injuries. Once he was mobile again, the panther - accompanied by an oddly introspective Kira - had spent three more days traveling from Forgetown to Ma'Karach.

But they had made the most of their remaining time together. They had shared meals, they had laughed and made light of the dangers they had faced, and they had cuddled together at night. Kira had wanted more, but the panther had patiently explained that he... wasn't ready for that.

But that was then, before he had returned to the world of intrigue and politics. It was a world where reputation was of the utmost importance - and not just his, but that of his clan as well. The moment he had set foot back into the city proper, he had to remind himself that it was time to start distancing himself from the gryphon.

She hadn't taken it well, of course. She had argued, pleaded, and even cried.

He had been ready for the first two, but that last one had really left a lasting impression on him. Honestly, the beastkin hadn't even suspected that the gryphon - so tough and spunky and self-reliant - had even known how to cry. It left him feeling miserable.

When it had finally become clear that he wouldn't be swayed by tears, she had predictably turned to anger, and the subsequent punch to the crotch had left him feeling miserable as well. But, ah, marginally less so than the tears had. He just wished she could understand his position.

He sighed, gazing wistfully out the window of his room. His family had been kind enough to leave it untouched during his month-long absence, and he had spent the bulk of the morning getting rid of the fine layer of dust that had settled over everything he owned.

He slumped against the window, staring morosely at the other beastkin wandering about the courtyard. He could see a few of the clanhouse guards walking a patrol around the exterior wall, and two of his elder brothers laughing while they shared a bottle of wine. It really was nice to be home. But...

Had the adventure really been that bad? Oh, it had certainly had its low points, but there had been high ones as well. At the very least he had come away with a new friend and potential ally to call upon, once she had come to forgive him. She might have even been something more if-

Rhaelyn shook his head. No, there was no point in thinking about what could have been. He was a noble, even if just barely, and it wouldn't do to put his own needs ahead of the clan. Not while he was living in Ma'Karach, at least.

"Hey, assbutt."

He glanced away from the window, snorting as he spied his elder sister loitering at the entrance to his chambers. She was prim, proper, and modest in public, but at home around her siblings? Well, suffice to say that she had spent far too much time with the servants' children while she was growing up. Their crude behavior had obviously rubbed off on her.

"Cyrena," he nodded toward her, then went right back to looking out the window.

She waited another few seconds, then shrugged and walked into his room without invitation. Tossing a handful of letters and packages onto the table, she set a hand to her hip. "Been holding all this junk for you. You should get home more often, Rhae."

It almost sounded sentimental, but then she ruined it. "When you're not around everyone expects me to do stuff, and it's extra hard to sneak out so I can see my boyfriends."

Rhaelyn snorted again, slipping away from the window and moving toward the table instead. "Yes, I've missed you too, sister."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah yeah." And a pause, her tail crooked as she crossed her arms over her stomach. "Hey, Raff's been asking about you."

He frowned. "You know we're not supposed to talk to her. It's not appropriate."

Cyrena rolled her eyes again, this time more dramatically. "Whatever. Come on, Rhae. Mom's the only one who even cares about that kind of thing."

The panther arched a brow, casually flipping through the missives and packages that his sibling had been holding for him. It didn't take long for him to notice a trend. "Er, Cyrena, all of these are opened."

She shrugged, not even bothering to look innocent. In a way, it really made Rhaelyn miss Kira. "I got bored. So sue me." She stuck her tongue out a little, her ears slanted forward as she looked a bit defensive. "Just a bunch of garbage, anyway. Why can't you get love letters and death threats like a normal guy?"

Rhaelyn paused, plucking up one twine-wrapped package in his hand. It was unopened, and even in the dim light of the fading day he could pick out barely visible runes scratched all over the plain paper it was wrapped in. The warding was both crude and oddly efficient. It looked like the alleycat's work.

"What's this one?"

"Oh, uh," Cyrena glanced at the package, then shrugged again. "Dunno, that one just came yesterday. Didn't get a chance to poke through it."

The male took a turn at rolling his eyes, his whiskers twitching. "Cyrena..."

"Hey," she looked defensive again. "Cut me some slack. I just got through a big break-up."

He snorted, absently working at the twine with his claws. "I would be more sympathetic if this were the first time, sister. What is this, the fourth one in the past year?"

She frowned, "The fifth. It's not my fault that no man can live up to my expectations."

The twine came undone and Rhaelyn carefully peeled the package open. A folded bit of parchment came fluttering out, and he swiftly plucked it from the air before it could land. It was a hastily scrawled note, penned in a barely legible but distinctly familiar hand. At the bottom it was signed by an elaborate and pretentious 'S'.

He sighed, "Cyrena."

The pantheress looked up from her brother's backpack, having already helped herself to its contents while he wasn't paying attention. "Mm?"

"Who delivered this?"

She shrugged again, absently chewing on a piece of dried fruit. It had come from Rhaelyn's pack, but since he wasn't eating it at the moment she considered it to be fair game. "Dunno, some short guy. Kind of cute. Had gray fur and a bandage on his tail. I think he stole some of the forks out of the silverware drawer before he left."

Rhaelyn sighed again. Yes, that was definitely the alleycat. And it was just like him to dump this kind of thing on the panther's doorstep.

Cyrena furrowed her brow, her muzzle working into a cute little pout. "Why?"

"Because the world stands once more on the brink of oblivion," the panther plucked his cloak from a rack mounted on the wall. Settling it about his shoulders, he deftly clasped it into place before reaching for his sword belt. "And I am the only one who can talk it off the ledge."

The belt was laced about his waist, his hands set to his hips as he posed dramatically in the plume of sunlight that was filtering through his window. "I must make preperations, and leave at once!"

His sister just shrugged again, absently popping another piece of dried fruit into her mouth. "'Kay. I'll let mom know."

Epilogue the Fourth - Alandrea

Two days later, Alandrea had finally managed to track down the person she was looking for.

She stood in a mostly abandoned field roughly twenty miles outside of Ma'Karach. The nearest occupied settlement was a small beastkin outpost set up at a nearby quarry, but she was fairly certain that none of the locals owned the quaint little shack that had been set up here.

She approached the shack, quickly trotted a complete circle around it, and then knocked smartly on the door. It wasn't just any knock, but rather a very precise series of light staccato raps and heavy thumps of her fist, and the second her knuckles touched the door for the sixteenth time it eased open to allow her access of its own accord.

The filly pulled the door open, ducking her head as she entered.

It was much larger on the inside, but Alandrea took it in stride. She had seen spacially displaced structures before - in fact, she had even bought and sold a few as part of a real estate scam a few years back. This one looked like a Mark IV. Nice, but not too ostentatious. It was basically the equivalent of a twenty-room mansion with a portable front door.

The room she had entered was more cluttered than luxurious. That's not to say that it wasn't spacious, because it was - large enough that Alandrea could have comfortably lived there if she had a mind to set up camp on the spot - but it was filled to the brim with a bewildering assortment of trinkets. And not just trinkets, but treasures as well, and curio, and even a few odd artifacts that crackled with power.

The centaur pursed her lips, pausing near a blackened vase, beautiful despite being charred shut. Was that the Urn of Sorrows? And there, cluttered onto a three-legged coffee table - she was fairly certain that she recognized the Helm of Eternal Night. Too powerful for any one beastkin to wield, it was currently being used as a paperweight to weigh down what looked like recipes for baked fish. She chuckled, moving on - and she finally spied what she had been looking for.

"Hey there, Ev!" The filly grinned as she spotted the receptionist.

She was a tiny slip of a thing, no more than a six inches tall with beet-red skin, cloven hooves, and an absurdly pronounced figure. She wasn't a demon, but rather she was an animated stone idol. Alandrea knew, because she had been there when it had been liberated from the Order of the Obsidian Temple by its current owner.

"Is he in?"

"I'm afraid the master is currently unavailable," the diminutive figure cheerfully replied. She slipped across the surface of the table she stood on, picking up a quill pen that easily rivaled her in size. "Would you like me to take a message?"

"Sure would," the filly drawled. "Got a new story for him to write about, if he's got the coin for it."

The tiny demonic golem perked a brow, one clawed hand set to her hip as she nodded. She had been left with a discretionary fund for just such an occasion. "Will the usual rate be alright?"

Alandrea grinned, bobbing her head. Her associate was nothing if not generous when it came to this sort of thing. Of course, it helped that he paid by the word, and she was more than happy to take full advantage of that. "Sounds great. Might wanna get some paper, though. This is gonna be a long one..."

The tiny figure smiled, dipping the quill into a convenient ink pot that could have easily doubled as a bath tub. "Of course. Where would you like to begin?"

"Well," the filly chuckled. She was going to have to make this good, because it had taken a very expensive bottle of brandy to coax all the details out of Gale. She felt a little guilty taking advantage of the tiger - after all, she was the sweetest and most trustworthy person the centaur knew. But hey, money was money, and the healer was a total lightweight when it came to drinking.

"It all started in the Gryphon Territories..."

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Epilogue the Fourth - Kira

Kira sighed.

No, she wasn't really sad, but she was kind of apathetic at this point. She had escorted Rhaelyn back to Ma'Karach just over a fortnight ago, and then he had spent the bulk of a day trying to convince her that he was officially no longer her problem.

She had disagreed, but he had been stubborn. In retrospect, she probably shouldn't have lost her temper and punched him in the balls. Not after they had just finished healing.

She had tried following up on him afterwards, but his clan had been quite insistent that he was indeed no longer her problem. She had been paid generously - more than twice her originally agreed upon fee - with the understanding that she was not to speak of the panther's misadventures to anyone. After that, she had been politely but firmly directed off of the premises.

Since then, she had been doing a lot of thinking. She had more money than she had ever had at one time, and she was trying to enjoy the good life. To live things up as only a civilized gryphon could. At this particular moment, she was busy moping around in a room she had rented at the Do-Right Inn.

Woo.

She sighed again, sprawling out. She had really thought that a bed might be more comfortable. She had never slept in one before, but she had managed to convince the innkeeper that she wouldn't mangle the blankets or tear the mattress to shreds. It was a hard urge to resist, though.

It was too soft, and it smelled so strongly of flowers that she felt like she was perpetually on the edge of a sneeze. And on top of that, she couldn't really figure out why there were so many layers on the thing. I mean, sure, one blanket made sense. You wrapped yourself up in it and then you were warm, right? But this bed had at least three layers, all stacked on top of eachother.

The pillows were nice, though. Eventually she just opted to scrape the dozen or so of the cushions off of the bed, dump them in a corner, and curled up atop. Much better.

And she sighed again. She could freely admit to herself that she was just trying to keep herself from thinking about Rhaelyn. Stupid, charming Rhaelyn. So smart and so dumb at the same time.

She balled up a fist and bonked herself on the head. "No, bad Kira. Stop thinking about that."

'Come on,' the little voice said. It was being uncharacteristically supportive. 'You can work through this'.

"Don't know what you're talking about," she muttered. She absently plucked up one of the pillows and contemplated it. Surely the innkeeper wouldn't miss just one...?

'Yes you do,' the voice said insistently. 'You need to make a choice'.

Kira frowned, her talons shredding into the pillow as she viciously gutted it. It made her feel a little better, but the joy was fleeting. And now there were feathers everywhere.

'You can't ignore me,' the voice persisted. 'You need to either go after Rhaelyn, or you need to find more work, but you can't keep sitting around'.

"Shut up," she huffed. She rolled over on her pile of pillows, carefully sprawling out on her back. She toyed with the liberated feathers for a moment longer, then started gnawing on the mortally wounded pillow. She had no teeth, but she could still tear at it with her beak.

"You don't know me," she muttered. Now her beak was full of feathers, but she didn't really care. Murdering the pillow was the only thing keeping her spirits up. "You're just my brain."

'Hmf,' the voice muttered defiantly. 'No I'm not.'

Kira blinked, "What?"

But no answer came, and the voice remained silent. Uncharacteristically so.

And she sighed again, for the third time in as many minutes. She coughed, spitting up a few feathers, then abandoned the mangled pillow. It just wasn't the same when her victim couldn't bleed and scream. Maybe she could stop by one of the shops and buy some rabbits-

She shook her head. No, that's not what civilized people did. Sure they ate rabbits, but they cooked them first. She needed to start cooking things. She would learn how to cook things SO much, that everyone would understand she was the most civilized of all gryphons, and then Rhaelyn could love her.

"No," she scolded herself. Her fingers balled up and she rapped herself on the skull again. "Stop that. No. We don't need Rhaelyn."

A soft knock at the door shocked her out of her self-pity.

"Go away!" she hissed. She didn't want any visitors. Who would come to visit her, anyway? She was paid up until the end of the week, so there shouldn't be any reason to- wait, could the innkeeper already know about his pillow? Was he some kind of arcane pillowmancer?

The knock repeated, and this time the hen rolled back upright. She stretched out her forelimbs, trying to gather the feathers into a pile so she could hide the evidence.

"Go away or I'll eat you!" she chirped. "I'm a gryphon! I do that sort of thing!"

"Kira..."

The gryphon started, her eyes wide. The voice was muffled by the door, but that was-

"Then definitely go away," she scowled. "Or I'll punch you in the balls again. I do that sort of thing, too."

There was a soft spark as the chain keeping the door shut literally disassembled itself, the bits and pieces of metal clattering to the floor. Apparently the panther was not going to be so easily dissuaded, and the door began to swing open.

"What are you doing!?" she gaped. "I'm not dressed!"

The door snapped shut again, and the visitor sounded flustered. "Oh, I, uh... sorry." And a brief pause, before the door opened again.

"Ha ha," the panther smiled as he stepped into the room anyway. "Very clever."

Kira huffed, looking appropriately indignant as Rhaelyn invaded her sanctuary. She didn't want to see anyone right now, let alone HIM. She couldn't even look at him. She plucked up another pillow, pulling it over her face as she stretched out against the floor. "Go away."

Rhaelyn frowned a little, easing the door shut behind him. He glanced about the room - it was nice, for a rental, but he couldn't really imagine that it was the hen's style. On top of that, there were feathers and bits of pillowcase everywhere, as if she had been passing the time by slaughtering chickens. He made a small circular motion with one finger, and a gust of artificial wind flitted through the room to lift the errant feathers up, over, and into the waste bin.

"Hey!" she squeaked, peeking from under her pillow. "I wasn't done with that!"

"Kira," he tried to smile reassuringly, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed. "We need to talk."

The gryphon's blood went cold. Was this the dreaded 'The Talk'?

"I was serious, Rhaelyn." She scowled, her taloned fingers balling up into fists. "I will SO punch you in the balls. You know I can do it."

The beastkin coughed lightly, perhaps to buy himself a moment to think or perhaps at the memory of when she had, in fact, punched him. "Er, Kira, this is important. If you still want to punch me in the balls after I speak my piece, then fine."

"I will," she warned him. Her voice was very matter-of-fact with a slight hint of rebelliousness.

He frowned again, but he continued regardless "You know why we can't be together..."

"Yeah yeah, 'politics' and 'reputation'." She snorted. All of those things were stupid. Had he really just come here to repeat himself ad nauseum?

Rhaelyn continued as if uninterrupted, adding emphasis to his words. "... as long as I'm living in Karash."

She snorted again, but then paused. Peeking out from beneath her pillow again, she eyed the panther warily. "Wait, what are you trying to say?"

The panther offered an awkward little smile, gesturing vaguely with his fingers. "Well, ah, I've just received word that I'm needed far beyond the walls of the city, to help save the world. I'm going to need others, though. An elite team. So..."

Kira perked, her angsty melodrama dispelled in an instant. She shed a dozen pillows like a snake might shed it's skin as she rose to her feet. Assuming, that is, that the snake had feet. And grew pillows in place of scales.

"Adventure?"

"Yes," he smiled. "Adventure."

"Together?" she beamed, crawling up onto the bed next to the beastkin.

He laughed softly, planting a hand against her side as he pushed her over. She let him. "Yes, together."

She wriggled against the blankets, grinning broadly as tried to make herself comfortable on the weird, soft, lumpy furniture. It was easier with Rhaelyn there. "Yay!"

And he laughed again, leaning in to rub vigorously along the gryphon's side. She purred blissfully, wriggling even moreso at his touch. "Yes, 'yay'. So, does that mean you'll come?"

'You don't deserve him,' the voice muttered derisively. She ignored it. Curling about, she flopped her head across the panther's lap and peeked up at him with one big, avian eye. "Does it pay?"

He rolled his shoulders, chuckling softly as he stroked a fingertip along the edge of the hen's beak. It did, but he wanted to make certain that the hen was coming along for other reasons. "Does it matter?"

She flexed her jaw, considering that. It only took her a second to decide that no, it most certainly did not. She shook her head. "How long will it last?"

He smiled, his fingers stroking lightly over across her brow. "As long as we can make it last. Could be a while. The world is constantly in some peril or another."

Kira rumbled contently. Yes, that sounded acceptable. All this city living wasn't for her, anyway, so more time on the road with her favorite beastkin sounded like a dream come true.

Her beak curled into a sly smile, her head lifted a little as she peeked up at the panther. "And, uh, what if I still want to punch you in the balls...?"

Rhaelyn faltered, one ear skewed as he peered back down at the gryphon. He thought about arguing, but... well... he wanted to keep her happy, didn't he? He sighed, smiling. "If you have to, but only once. But, ah... are you sure there's nothing else you'd rather do? We have a bed and everything..."

The gryphon grinned, rolling out of the panther's lap and onto the floor again. "After!" she promised. "Now stand up!"

The panther sighed again, but there was still a smile on his muzzle. He couldn't stop smiling. He eased himself to his feet as he watched the hen excitedly pace the room, her tail flicking back and forth behind her like an ecstatic snake.

It was a nice tail, he couldn't help but think. Not too long, but just long enough before it came to an end.

"Just... be gentle," he murmured as he rose to his own feet.

And she grinned even wider, fluttering her lashes innocently up at the panther.

"No promises," she laughed. "Now spread 'em!"

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Epilogue the Last - The Queen

The Queen sighed, the wistful sound emerging from her armored throat like the last gasp of a dying midwife. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees, and the glass in the ancient chamber's one window spiderwebbed with a thousand tiny cracks. Her ear twitched with faint irritation - she had just replaced that. It's not like it was easy to get new glass this deep in the Gryphon Territories.

It had been three weeks since Rhaelyn had escaped her tender grasp, and she was beginning to think that he might not be coming back. Perhaps she had come on too strongly?

She padded lightly across the room, careful not to accidentally rend the stone floor with her impossibly sharp claws, neatly navigating about the dozens of dusty and long disused alchemical tables. Peering longingly out the window at the barren hills below, she soothed her ragged nerves by watching her subjects go about their day to day lives.

Ah well, the panther wouldn't be the last traveler to pass through her territories. She would find another suitable master eventually.

A shame, though. He had been perfect. Neatly groomed and handsomely symmetrical, capable of holding a conversation about the intricacies of fourth dimensional metamagic, appreciative of properly cooked and prepared food, and best of all he had known how to play chess. It had been decades since The Queen had last gotten to enjoy a nice game of chess.

The Queen frowned a little, and this time the glass in her window burst into a thousand tiny flinders. She blinked. That was slightly more irritating. She was going to have to get over the loss before she inadvertantly brought the whole tower down around her. That would be disastrous. She hadn't managed to teach the gryphons the finer points of architecture yet, and she didn't relish the idea of living in a cave like most of her followers did.

No, she was only comfortable here in the arcane laboratory where she had been born and bred. It was her home. After living here for over a century, it would be hard to settle into a new one.

"My Queen," came the sibilant croak of a drake. She had heard him scaling the tower, but it was still mildly surprising that he had addressed her so impertinently.

"Go outside and knock," she chided. Her voice was like the echo of a nightmare, and her eyes glowed dimly like the blood moon. She was trying to say it politely, so as not to frighten the poor thing, but the drake still blanched to an almost ghostly white before he retreated back out of the chamber.

The knock came a second later, the sound of scaled knuckles rapping against the old metal door in an awkward and uncertain staccato pattern. She had spent the past decade trying to teach the gryphons the finer points of proper etiquette, but they still seemed to have difficulty with even the most basic manners.

"Come in," she crooned. She had glimpsed his face, so it only took her a split second to recall the drake's name. "Kwateel."

She knew the name and face of each and every one of her subjects, past and present. Of everyone she had ever met, actually. It wasn't hard, because she never forgot anything. It was the way her brain was built. A century and a half of memories were swimming about in her head, although admittedly not all of them were hers.

The drake entered again, his head bowed so low that his beak practically scraped against the heavily scarred stone floor. "A thoussand pardonss, my queen."

She gestured dismissively with her talons, turning her attention to the cowering male. His gaze was carefully averted, so as not to look upon her form. That was fine. She didn't take it personally. She knew full well that some of the weaker-minded gryphons could not look upon her without their minds simply collapsing beneath the weight of her aura. After inadvertantly going through a dozen hand-picked servants, the remainder had learned to exercise the utmost caution when addressing her.

"One of the hunterss returnss, my Queen," he uttered, his scaled head still bowed as he prostrated himself before her. A small part of The Queen wanted to tell him to lighten up, but that would probably set a bad precedent. "It iss one of the Third Talon."

The Queen worked her beak thoughtfully, information flooding through her head. That was Quetzyl's group, thirty hunters strong. She filtered through the excessive amount of data, the name and face of every single member of the Third Talon flitting through her head. Ah yes, she remembered now. They had split into small groups to patrol the southeastern quadrants of her territory, in search of the missing panther.

She snorted softly, the air curdling a little as her hot breath dissipated. She didn't like Quetzyl, but there was no denying that the scaled hen could get results. She was dogged and stubborn, maybe even a little unhinged, but she was also one of the few gryphons brazen and strong-willed enough to actually look The Queen in the eye when they spoke.

"Quetzyl?" she rumbled, the tower shifting a little beneath her feet. "What news?"

Kwateel shivered a little, his breathing shallow as he could literally feel The Queen's gaze washing over him. It felt like he was bathing in icey waters, and where ever her eyes wandered it felt like a thousand insects were crawling on his skin.

"It iss Jarol," he uttered. "He iss badly hurt, but he livess."

The Queen arched a brow. Quetzyl's brooding enforcer? That was peculiar, but no more peculiar than when Kerrik, her sometimes-mate, had stumbled into the camp half-dead a few days earlier. "How badly?"

The bowing drake frowned a little, hesitating briefly before he responded. Mostly, his hesitation was born of his admittedly rudimentary medical knowledge, but a part of it was also the nature of the wounded hunter's injuries. "He, rrr... exsstenssive damage to his muscles, one wing and two limbss disssabled, sssome broken bonesss, sssome damage to hiss eyess, and..."

Both brows arched now, The Queen quietly padded about her uncharacteristically reluctant servant. "Yes?"

"And, rr..." he could feel her eyes on him, now. It was a feeling akin to ants living in his bones. "He hasss, er, losst hiss... eggss...?"

The massive hen blinked, at a bit of a loss. Had Jarol somehow raided the hatchery before setting off with Quetzyl? Or had she, perhaps, laid an egg while they were- oooohh, wait. Now she got it. She winced a little. Kerrik had suffered a similar trauma, although with the tiger-drake they had at least saved one. It seemed like more than a coincidence that the two drakes had lost three, er, 'eggs' between them.

Well, maybe she could use them to start some kind of kind of specialized eunuch guard. The idea didn't really have much appeal, to be honest, but at least it was steeped in tradition. "And the rest of the Third Talon?"

The drake swallowed hard, trying to keep himself focused. Even avoiding The Queen's gaze, it was hard to speak with her for long. "Ah, twenty other hunterss have returned, but no word from Quetzyl hersself. Nine otherss are ssstill misssing."

She sighed again, and this time one of the old beakers near her cracked and split. That upset her. She had kept that beaker where it sat since her maker had last placed it there, over a hundred years ago. It had been caked in dust and grime from decades of disuse, but now it was truly ruined. Ah well.

"Send Jarol to the healers, and when he is stable have him sent to me."

The Queen mused, absently wondering if this meant that Quetzyl was dead. No matter, there were dozens of other gryphons eager to take her place, and they were all equally expendable. Not that she didn't care about her subjects - each and every one was precious to her - but they were such petty and self-destructive creatures.

"Yess, my Queen." Kwateel remained bowed before her, utterly still. He waited now for The Queen to dismiss him.

She pondered for a moment longer, absently wondering if Jarol might actually have news of the panther's whereabouts. What little information she had been able to pry from Kerrik had hinted that Quetzyl's group may have come close, but the tiger-striped gryphon had been far too traumatized to give her anything comprehensive.

It seemed unlikely, though. More likely that Jarol had simply run afoul of one of the beasts that wandered her territories, and had been so badly injured that Quetzyl simply left him to die. She clucked her tongue in disappointment. Someday the gryphons would understand the value of a proper medical system. At the very least, she was happy that she had finally managed to convince them to stop eating their own wounded.

She briefly entertained the idea of trying to introduce the concept of psychology or counseling to the gryphons. Jarol and Kerrik would no doubt need some help recovering from their ordeal, but... no. If her followers started trying to psychoanalyze eachother, it would probably lead to a massacre.

"Thank you, Kwateel." she murmured. She was a little amused at the way the drake's body shivered each time she spoke, but at the same time it made her a little sad. She really did miss the panther's company. It had been nice to speak to someone as an equal.

Ah well. Once again, she reminded herself that there would be others. Someday another wizard would come to tell her what she was supposed to be doing with this army she had been ordered to build so long ago. This would be so much easier if her first master had left written instructions, or if she knew what had become of her sisters.

She shook her head. She would just have to continue the course on her own, and eventually things would become clear. Until then, she would simply have to find new ways to keep herself amused.

"Kwateel..." she murmured, setting her back to the drake as she once again gazed out the lone window. Her tail swayed behind her, and although she had not intended to put any force into the motion it still rent through the air like the lash of a bullwhip.

"Yess, my Queen?"

She smiled a little, "Would you like to learn how to play chess?"