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I'm Only Human Pt. 9

The night air brought with it the coolness that was usual for the city. A welcome relief for all the inhabitants of Saraph after the blistering hot day. But at this hour most would not be out to enjoy such weather. Keith gazed attentively before him, as members of the guard were moving to and fro. All were busy making sure everything the caravan was prepared for the journey ahead. It would be a long day of marching ahead of them, with only a few places to stop and rest. They weren't expecting to reach the outpost until the afternoon, maybe even the evening. The preparations seemed to be going smoothly, and Keith hoped that the rest of the mission would be this smooth. Footsteps approaching from behind him caught his attention, but his gaze was still trained on the laboring guards in front of him.

“I trust everything is proceeding well Ensign?" The Captain asked in his cool voice. Though he had a calm demeanor, Keith knew that this mission made his Captain anything but calm. In truth, he was probably as nervous as Keith was, they just knew how to hide it well.

“Almost ready Captain. There have been no significant delays, and we will be ready to depart soon." The activity was slowly starting to die down. It was almost like everyone knew that the time was nearly upon them.

“And what of our guest?" The Captain asked with a grin. “Did he survive the pyre?"

“As of right this moment, it would seem not."

The Captain sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “That is unfortunate. We could have used him.It seems like the council has robbed us of useful asset." He said, with a slight edge in his voice.

Keith's nose wrinkled. He wasn't pleased with his Captain calling his friend an 'asset' “To be fair sir, it was an exchange. We gained someone of arguably better value from it. And John volunteered to join us. He was never promised to us. Besides you saw how fast Pyrros stormed out after John. An angered Pyrros is a very convincing Pyrros."

The Captain snorted at Keith's defense. “No one likes a pad licker Ensign." He said with a smirk.

Keith sighed and looked away, deciding it was best to not try and continue the discussion with the Captain being in a joking mood. Besides, it did help set him at ease with the Captain in such a mood. There would be little joking once they set out. Looking back over the caravan, the last of the supplies were being tied down, and most of the soldiers stood looking at the two, waiting for their marching orders.

“Well, there's no point in delaying it." The Captain said as he started towards the caravan. He began to give his orders, and the soldiers snapped back as they heard their commander's voice, forming up for the long march ahead. Keith followed behind the Captain to the front of the caravan and once there the Captain he gave the order. The lead wagon began to move, the oxen groaned as they slowly got moving. Soon the following wagons began to lurch as well, and the caravan was underway. Everyone was quiet, with only the oxen and the wagons making any noise.

They approached the gates, which opened wide for them with some of the wall guards there waiting to see them out. A few words of encouragement were spoken as they passed through the gates, but most didn't say much as they began to pass through the gates.

“Took you fuckers long enough."

The words cut the eerie silence that had fallen over the convoy like a hearld. Both the Captain and Keith whipped around to see John coming up behind them, throwing a small pack in the lead wagon as he passed it.

“Thought I missed you guys. I was about to start walking to try and catch up." He said looking to the dark, uninviting jungle. “Guess it's a good thing I waited."

Keith recovered first from his surprise. He smirked at John. “Funny. We were beginning to think that you had gotten scared when you didn't show. Thought you decided to stay behind the safe walls of the city."

“HA!" John scoffed, flashing a friendly smile at the fox. “Apparently those big ears of yours don't actually do anything for your hearing." He said pinching the tip of Keith's ear. Keith batted away the hand, his ears swiveled away from John's reach. “I said that I would meet you at the gates." He pointed to the gates behind them.

Keith only spent a few moments trying to remember if John had said that, but he gave up fast. The important thing was that he was here now.

“No matter. It is good to have you hear John. We can use all the help we can get." The Captain said to John. “Though I would advise you to stay up towards the front of the caravan."

John looked questioning at the Captain. “Khan is here as well." John's eyes grew wide as he cursed under his breath. “I would prefer if he saves his energy for any fights to come and not on you."

“Yeah trust me," John said looking back at the trailing convoy, trying to see if he could see the tiger. “I don't want him expending his energy on me either. It didn't work out too well for either of us last time." He looked a bit more before turning back around. “Well great, worrying about a knife in the back is exactly what I need right now." He grumbled.

“He is not aware that you are here, but I doubt it will take long for word of your presence to make its way back. The first chance I get I'll go and talk to him and make sure he is focused on what is important, but until then it might be wise for you to stay around the front of the caravan." The Captain said.

John nodded. Khan being there did complicate matters, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. On the plus side, John was armed better than their last encounter. He didn't want to kill Khan, but John valued his own life more than Khan's. 'Well we barely just got out the gate and already this is going worse than expected.' John thought grimly. He saw Keith look at him like he wanted to say something, but after some hesitation he turned away. John would have asked what he was going to say, but the caravan started to enter the pathway leading through the jungle.

Suddenly his mind was taken by memory. The last time John had been around here he was trying to track down the ones who kidnapped Cearra after they slaughtered her guards. John and he felt it was best for him to keep quiet as the moved along. Not the best of memories, but given that he set out to save the dragoness he could call that particular endeavor an unmitigated success. And what had happened after he returned her, was for the most part successful. Sure he got a spear butt to the face, thrown in prison, and was sent on a suicide mission. But beyond that it had gone pretty damn well in John's opinion. As he looked into the pure darkness that was the jungle around them, he could only hope that this mission would enjoy the same success that he had the last time he had come out here.

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'Mistakes may have been made.' John thought as he continued marching along with the caravan. It was about midday now and they had been moving non-stop since they left Saraph. He switched his M4 to his other shoulder. He wasn't one to get winded from a little walk, but he sure as hell wasn't walking miles every day. The modern world was a beautiful, lazy thing after all. Still he was thankful at least that he didn't have the kind of armor that the anthro's were wearing. Chain mail and plate armor couldn't be easy to carry this long, even for animal people. Plus, they were also hefting spears and shields. John looked at the M4 in his hands and once again thanked the modern world. Though he supposed that they had trained to do these kinds of activities with the equipment they carried. If anyone was ready for the long march it would be them. And a long march it would be, as the was recently informed that it would take a lot longer for them to reach the outpost. John almost fell to the ground crying right there.

During the travel he had stayed mostly with Keith and the Captain, but every now and then he drifted back a little. Thankfully, no one seemed to care that John was marching beside them, or if they did they sure didn't show it. He did catch the occasional strange look, but there wasn't any hostility in there stares. Confusion and curiosity yes, but not hostility. John counted that as a win of some kind.

The silence that had fallen the caravan as they left the city had not lasted, and John had been able to catch some of the conversations of the soldiers. Nothing he heard was really worth noting, but still it was nice to hear some conversation after the eerie silence that had fallen after they left Saraph. That could probably be attributed to two things. One, the jungle was a lot less dense here, and two, it was day time so they had a good amount of visibility around them and past the tree line. A voice yelling brought his attention to the front of the caravan.

“Hold!" The Captain said. Instantly all noise stopped and the whole convoy tensed, waiting for anything to happen. “We will stop here, take this time to rest, eat, and make sure you are ready for what may be ahead."

To John's joy, more specifically his feet's joy, they finally stopped for the first time in hours. He heard more orders yelled from lower commanders giving orders. John didn't pay attention to what they said, it wasn't like they were paying him to be there. 'Why did I volunteer for this again' he thought. His mind flashed back to Cearra, looking at him with tears in her eyes. “Right." He said grimily as he found a tree and planted himself down. In retrospect John could see the foolishness of his decision, but it was too late for that now. Another body sitting next to him was the only indication that he apparently had company. Looking over he saw his favorite fox friend sitting next to him. “So how much longer until we reach this outpost?" John asked as he opened the packaging to his MRE. Keith pulled out his own meal, which looked like a cut of some kind of meat with some kind of seasoning on it. It looked like jerky of some kind, which was nice for John. More than a few anthros took their meat raw.

“I've only been on this route once before so I can't say for sure" Keith admitted “but what from I remember I believe we will be there in a few hours. Once there we'll unload the cargo and bed down for the night. We'll set off before sunrise again, to lessen the possibility of an ambush."

John groaned. “I swear I'm just gonna ride the wagons on the way back." The fox started at John incredulously.

“What? They're gonna be empty anyways!"

There was no change in the fox's expression. “I knew there was a reason that I never joined the military" John huffed said as he took his first bite.

“You've mentioned this before." The fox said. “Truly the citizens of your nation could be an army by themselves."

John stared at Keith for a few seconds, before he threw his head back in laughter. As he continued the fox's look went from shocked to irritate. “What? I fail to see why you are laughing."

John wiped a non-existent tear from his eye. “I'm sorry, it's just, I don--. There is a good chunk of people from my country wouldn't be able to walk this far, much less fight with any kind of proficiency." Now the fox looked at him skeptically, that caused John to roll his eyes. “Is it that hard to believe. First of all, the distance from Saraph to the outpost if far on foot, but it is trivial with our means of transpiration. Most people can't walk that far, because they will never have a need to." John said as he took another bite of food. John found the foxes impatient look to be amusing, slowing his chewing to draw it out. “Most military members could do it, a few months of training can do wonders to the body, or so I'm told. But you couldn't pick random people from my country and expect it to be an effective army. I'm the exception not the rule." He paused to take a swig from the canteen.

Keith still looked shocked, especially after the last statement. “A few months? Your guard only trains for a few months?"

“Well," John said twirling his fork in the air. “I think basic lasts 6 months or something like that, and then depending on what they will do they receive more training."

“I remember you said your military was different than ours, but I did not believe that it could be so…so inadequately trained." The fox said unbelieving.

“Hey! Our military is the best trained fighting force in the world!" John snapped back at Keith.

The fox flinched at the ferocity of the retort, but he should have expected it. If someone questioned the adequacy of his outfit he would be likely be angry as well. “I'm sorry if I offended you John. I'm just surprised."

“It's fine." John, waving his hand. “People from my country are generally proud of our military. You know how our worlds are different. The ways we fight are different." John pointed at the gun laying at his feet. “You've seen firsthand what these weapons can do. The skills we need to fight are not the same as those you need, thus training is different."

“So where does that leave you." The fox said around his own mouthful, having finally taken a bite. “If you're not part of your 'military' than you must be a citizen of som—“

“They usually call non-military civilians." John injected cheekily.

“That's unimportant." Keith said dismissively. He was becoming wise to the way the human would try to throw off a conversation. “What I want to know is how important of a 'civilian' are you to need the training that you possess."

John sighed. 'It always comes back to that.' He shoved in a mouthful to give himself an excuse to keep quiet. A thinly veiled excuse, but an excuse none the less. He couldn't tell Keith. Not that he didn't trust Keith, he was one of John's only friends in this world, but the whole deal still seemed a bit insane even to him. “For reasons that I'm not entirely privy to, I am who I am and not who I was." He said after swallowing.

That threw the fox for a loop. As the fox sputtered trying to figure out how to respond John finished off the rest of his meal in one finally effort and tossed the trash into his bag. He picked up another little packet that the MRE came with and smiled at what he saw. It was a short lived smile as something orange caught his eye. He immediately snapped his head up and saw a tiger walking a few yards away. John's breath caught for a few seconds until he realized that the tiger was not Khan. This one was a bit lighter orange than Khan, with different patterns and less built.

Keith ears flicked as he heard John's breath hitch and looked in the direction John was. It didn't take a scholar to figure it out. “You needn't worry about him John. Ingraham will make sure th—" The fox said, placing his hand on John's shoulder reassuringly.

“Ingraham?" John asked, not recalling ever meeting anyone with that name before.

The foxes head cocked sideways. “Ingraham, my Captains name, did I not tell you that?" The human shook his head. “Oh, well now you know, but as I was saying Ingraham is a trustworthy Captain. He said Khan would not be a problem to you, and he will make it so." He said with a reassuring pat on John's shoulder.

It only marginally eased John. Tigers were not a rare sight in Saraph, and it was only recently that he felt he could walk around the city without jumping at every streak of orange in his vision. A lot of things had changed since that day for John, though he wasn't aware of all of them yet. Out here though, he knew Khan was out here and he didn't fancy another run in with the tiger. It brought those old anxieties back. “Just how did you get stuck with Khan in your unit?" He asked as he watched the tiger walk away before he looked at Keith. “You were on my side, so I would think that he wouldn't like you much either."

The fox grinned. “Well Ingraham said you caused us a lot of trouble after the challenge. That problem was Khan." Pausing as another group of soldiers walked past them. “The Royal Guard has a limited number of positions available in it, and with Khan they held a trial to find a replacement. Our Lieutenant, the second in command behind the Captain, was picked to replace Khan after completing the trial. In turn the council placed Khan with us, but with a lower rank as a result of demotion. We lost a Lieutenant and gained a someone of lower rank, though with a fighting ability greater than even the Captain. It has been a balancing act with him to say the least."

John could see how things might be tense with such a power struggle. “So how did you keep him in line?"

“In the end, it is numbers that have kept him in line. Khan has lost a lot of respect for what he did. If he did ever challenge the authority of the Captain, or anyone above himself, the rest of the unit would be against him." Keith explained.

“Huh, so strength in numbers. I guess whatever works. So where does that leave you?"

“As the Ensign, I was the third in command until the Lieutenant left. I have effectively become the second in command, but not in rank. I don't get the same privileges afforded to me and some have tried to take advantage of that fact." The fox didn't realize it but he had begun to tear the grass out in frustration at the last sentence.

John wearily looked at the foxes clenched hand. “Huh, guess I screwed you guys over pretty well, though at least you got some kind of promotion out of it."

The fox was confused by the phrase John had used, but he thought he got the gist of it. “Actually Ingraham hasn't decided whether to try and find another Lieutenant to fill the roll or to promote me. He feels that it wouldn't take long for my authority to be respected, but he also feels that I lack experience needed to fill the role in the long term." The fox said, trying to keep his frustration from showing. While he would never say anything bad about his captain, he would be lying if he said that situation wasn't a point of contention between the two.

John decided not to pursue this line of discussion any longer. Instead he returned his attentions to the item he held in his hands. Keith was about to speak again, but he noticed the human wasn't paying attention to him anymore. John was smiling like a kid as he pulled out a red bag. That also got a curious look from Keith, but John paid no mind.

A package of Skittles, one of John's favorites, was clutched in his hands. “It's a candy from my world, a little treat." He said, finally noticing Keith's gaze at the bag. He was about to tear them open now, but he decided against it. 'I'm gonna have to eat them fast if I open them now. I might as well save them for later.' He thought as he put the Skittles in his bag along with the now garbage filled MRE package. Keith looked a little crestfallen when he realized that John had no intention of sharing his prize, but John honestly didn't care. It was his candy after all. Though he did find himself thinking about what Keith's reaction might be like if he did give him a few Skittles. 'Probably wouldn't be able to handle the sweetness.' He thought chuckling to himself.

The fox glared at him, knowing he was being laughed at. He didn't know what John was thinking, but he knew that he was being laughed at for something he knew nothing about. Who else could he be laughing at?

'Cearra would probably lo—' John sighed, his smile gone. The problems never ended for the human.

Keith's ears perked up at John's mood shift. “Is everything well John?"

“Yeah." John said heavily. “Just thinking about things that I'm gonna have to do when we get back to Saraph." He let himself fall onto his back, staring at the white clouds. 'Of all the things I could have done, this is by far the stupidest one.'

“We have some time before we get moving, if there is something that weighs that heavily on you it's best to get it off your mind before we go on further. I am here to listen if you want" He said before taking another bite of his jerky.

“There isn't anything to talk about Keith." John said tersely, trying to shut down the conversation before it started. Keith only shrugged, not taking offense to the snappy response, and popped the last bite into his mouth. There was a feeling of guilt in John's gut for snapping at Keith. 'He was only trying to help and I snapped at him. This is really starting to stress me out.' He thought. “I'm sorry, but I just have a lot on my mind right now."

Keith didn't say a word, waiting to see if John would take his invitation.

'Maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe it would help me if someone knew exactly what I was going through.'

Whatever it was, he could see it was affecting John noticeably, yet he also knew trying to get John to say anything of worth was a battle unto itself. The human was quite notorious as being vague about most things that pertained to himself or his world. Keith honestly didn't know how Cearra put up with it.

A blaring sound cut both of them out of their thoughts. “What the hell is that?" John asked, grabbing he rifle at the sound.

“That was the single that we are going to be moving again." Keith said calmly, pushing himself of the ground. “We need to get back; we can finish this later." He said, somewhat frustrated. He would have to wait until they get to the outpost to continue. Keith helped John to his feet and they both walked back towards their places at the front of the caravan.

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They were close now, and yet nature had seen fit to slow them down so close to the outpost. A wide river separated them from the rest of the road that led to the outpost. It seemed to be shallow enough to wade through, coming up to mid stomach if John had to guess. Of course there was a bridge leading to the other side but it was narrow, only allowing wagons across one at a time. And with the water being that deep they could not ford the river to save time.

“I don't like this" John said as he peered over the right of the side of the bridge at the embankment. The embankment was vertical, more a cliff of dirt and root than anything else, and was reciprocated on the other side. The left side of the bridge was a shoreline that was fine sand with smooth stones mixed around, betraying the normal size of the river. The opposite side of beach was a slope, not the same vertical of the right side, that was covered in tree right to the water's edge. It was strange how there was sandy shoreline only one side. “I may not have a sixth sense, but even I can tell this ain't good."

“For the last time John we are aware of the dangers." Ingraham said, doing his best to keep the irritation from showing too much. John had to admit that the captain knew self-control very well. Keith and Ingraham had been quietly discussing this crossing for a while now, but lacking the hearing of the anthro's he didn't know until they were at the bridge. Now the convoy had been halted for 5 minutes while they tried to work out what to do.

“I don't suppose you guys came up with something else better than sending half the guys over there and hope for the best?" The glares spoke louder than words ever could. It was funny how some things were universal, or interdimensional, like death glares. He looked back across to the clearing on the other side. It really seemed like the only option they could take. Send some of the party over to secure the other side, hopefully draw out an attack if there was one, then wait for however long it took the wagons to cross with a split force. And once the wagons started to cross there was no way the either side could reinforce the other unless they crossed the river. The wagons would take up too much space.

“If you have a better idea, human, then please share it."

'Well so much for self-control' John thought avoiding eye contact with the fox. Still as John looked at the jungle on the other side the gears started to turn. They only needed to check if there was enemies tree line waiting to ambush them, but if it was clear they could maybe they could get the garrison to help defend while the wagons came across. It really didn't seem like a bad idea to John. Though as he looked around him to see who could possible scout for them he began to realize something. Most of the anthros were decked out in chainmail and heavy weapons like spears, shields, and swords. Not exactly the type of things a fast moving scout would need to wear. 'This is suddenly beginning to look less and less like a good idea.' He thought.

“I think I might have an idea." He said, to the surprise of Keith and Ingraham. “But you're not going to like it." Really John had no idea why he was about to do this. It seemed like when shit hit the fan on this world John threw himself right in the middle of it. A departure from the low-key life he led before, in another life time.

The fox's ears focused on him. “If you've thought of something then let's hear it. Knowing your past, it might be better than what we've thought of." Ingraham said.

John let out a strained chuckle. “It's really not." He said, going over it in his head. “I think by this point you are familiar with the sound of my weapon Keith." The fox nodded cautiously. He knew John was up to something. “Good. Then you'll know if I run into trouble."

Keith asked him to elaborate, but John had already tuned him out. Instead he focused on the tree line of the other side. It was either safe, or a death sentence. His lips began to pull back into a smile. He didn't have to do this. In fact, on the entire march here John shared the same concerns as the rest of the caravan. The danger they faced, the threat of death growing with every step closer they took to the outpost. He had regretted coming, and yet when he was given the choice that he had now, despite all the fear, he ran willingly into the fray. 'One of these days, it's gonna catch up to me.'

He forced his legs to go before he could think any further. He heard someone shouting behind him, but he hardly heard them. He was across the bridge now, his legs pumping as fast as he would go. Before him the road continued forward before gently curving right. He was told that once they turned the corner the outpost would be in sight. He had reached that curve, ran part way into it, and then cut into the jungle. He reached a spot where I could see behind him, so he ducked into the brush and waited, trying his best to keep his breathing from getting to heavy. He waited and waited for anything to come chasing after him, but after a minute all he heard was the sounds of nature around him. There were birds and insects and other forms of life going about their days. Not exactly something you would hear if a large group of people were present. Finally, he decided that he was clear. There was no ambush waiting for them, so he decided to press on toward the outpost. It was just ahead of him, and maybe he could get them to send a detachment to help protect the river crossing.

He causally walked through the forest, noticing that the land was starting to slope up. He didn't have to walk long before he reached a clearing that allowed him to see the front of the outpost, as well as the road leading up to it. The first thing that stuck him was how foreboding the outpost looked. The walls were entire logs that had been stuck in the ground side by side, lashed together, and then had their tips sharpened. The sharp tips confused him, but he figured they served some purpose beside intimidation. The main gates were fairly large, with two towers on either side. They weren't anything grand, but it would give archers more of a vantage point to shoot at attackers. It seemed like this was less of an outpost, and more of a small fortress. Though given the proximity of the outpost to Drachma, he could see why they might have built it that way. Then again, John wasn't exactly an expert on medieval style outpost building, so maybe this was appropriate. Unfortunately, from his vantage point he couldn't see into the base, but that would be remedied soon as he started to step out of the tree line.

Suddenly he heard the telltale sound of someone in chainmail running, coming toward him from down the road. He pulled his gun up as he fell back into the tree line, ready to deal with any pursuers. It turned out to be a false alarm though as he saw Keith running up along the road. He looked a bit winded as the fox quickly stopped to look at the outpost. He could practically hear the heavy breathing, though John could hardly blame him with how heavy that getup must have been. The fox looked around in confusion, seeing no sign of John. Keith didn't keep the search up long though as he quickly made for the gates. It was at his point that John should have stepped out to join the fox, but he kept in place. There still could have been enemy scouts out there.

So John watched as Keith approached the gates, a figure appeared from the left tower. It took a second before John could see it was a black bear standing above Keith. The bear called out to Keith, and Keith replied with what sounded like “Saraph", but John was just far enough that he couldn't hear the conversation. From the gestures Keith was making it seemed like he was telling the bear that they were at the bridge, and hopefully he mentioned that they would need some back up. John kept watch as the bear disappeared from above the gates, it seemed like it was working. 'If they were scouts watching us they either didn't fallow, or they are backing off.' John thought, still keeping an eye out on Keith's back. John hoped that if there were any scouts around then they would leave Keith alone, seeing as he stood at the outposts door.

While the bear was gone John looked over the outpost again. It looked structurally solid with no obvious weakness. It made John wonder just how they had gotten through in the first place to burn the supplies. Getting over the walls would have been quite a challenge, as they were fairly tall, at least a twelve-foot drop from the top, and there wasn't any damage to the outside of the walls to indicate there was a battle. He looked at the doors again. 'With wooden walls, why even bother with taking the outpost? If you set fire to it that would cause some problems.' Though John was hardly an expert of medieval warfare. He figured they must have some way of keeping the walls from catching fire. His thoughts were silenced by the reappearance of the black bear`. 'Guess we'll know once we get in there.'

A figure appearing recaptured John's attention back to the wall. Soon that figure was joined by another off to the bears right. They must have been too far off to the side because Keith payed no attention to them. From where he was, John could clearly see bows in their hands. 'Why would they bring archers to the walls?' He thought. Then he saw two more figures appear, at the very edge of the forrest. 'Scouts!' John thought was he watched them slowly make their way up to Keith, still keeping just inside the tree line. The archers reacted and began to draw their own arrows, pointed right at them.

John aimed in on the two anthros behind Keith, with only two archers it was likely one of them would miss. He didn't intend for them to get a chance on Keith. Still, as he lined the sights he couldn't help but feel something was off. Very off. Keith was still talking to the bear, oblivious to the danger creeping up behind him. But the bear had full view of what was transpiring behind Keith. 'Why isn't he warning Keith?' John realized, as the bear continued to occupy Keith.. He knew the archers could see the scouts, so the bear should be able to see them too. John's stomach dropped. The bear wasn't warning Keith, and the archers appeared before the threat emerged from the forest he remembered. And with only two archers it was putting an unnecessary risk especially considering that the scouts were still in the trees. There was a good chance at least of them would miss, spelling doom for Keith. Finally, it all came to one conclusion. He tried desperately to think of another way, but in the end nothing came. The archers were aiming for the scouts. Their target was the lonely fox, standing in front of the gates, painfully oblivious to the danger around him. The fox, who was yelling at the bear, his anger very evident. But none of that mattered now, because John had finally understood the danger. The outpost had fallen.

John shifted his aim towards the most pressing threat. The scouts on the ground would have to run to get to Keith, but arrows fly faster than anyone can run. He pulled the trigger, and watched as the round hit where he aimed. The first archers neck. Blood spewed from the wound as he collapsed holding the new hole in his neck. The roar of the rifle got everyone's attention, but Keith, unlike the assailants, knew what the noise was and immediately checked for whatever danger John saw. It was now he finally spotted the two scouts closing in on him. The scouts burst from the trees to take out the fox.

John fired two more rounds at the second archer. The first round struck his unarmored chest. He started to collapse immediately, causing the second bullet hit high on his head, blowing the top of his skull off with a good amount of brain matter. John shifted focus to the bear, who was looking at where the archers were in confused horror. Unfortunately for him, like his archer comrades, he never saw his death coming. One second he was frantically searching for whatever took out the archers, the next second two bullets went ripping through his chest. He dropped clutching his chest, and he swore he heard a cry come from the bear. Finally, John turned his sights to the scouts. One had just reached Keith, but before the second one could join his leg exploded below the knee, causing him to fall. A poor shot on John's part due to his hurried shot, but at least it hit. John took more time to steady his aim as he readied to fire on the second scout. Carelessness here could equally end Keith's life instead of the scout. The second shot flew true, and the wound in his abdomen caused the scout to falter against Keith, and the fox exploited this taking his head off. Keith walked up to the second scout laying on the ground. From where John was it seemed like he was begging for his life, but Keith gave no such quarter to one trying to take is life. He quickly finished the helpless scout off. Keith looked around the forest to see if he could spot John, but only for a second. He soon took off back down the road back to the bridge.

John followed his example. He turned and burned, heading on back to the road and as fast as he could. Both of them needed to get back to the bridge and set up for a likely attack. John could hear some commotion coming from the outpost. It seemed like the enemy was already getting ready to retaliate. John broke through the trees and was running on the road again, Keith was right in front of him with John gaining on him. As the bridge came in view John could see there was a lot of movement on the other side. It seemed that they understood something had happened, but it looked like they were getting ready to cross the bridge to fight. They quickly made their way over the bridge, pushing through anyone that got in their way as they looked for Ingraham. It didn't take long, the captain rushed to meet them, though he was clearly not happy to see John. “That was a reckless thing you did John, crossing over alone."

It seemed like he was going to keep going, and they didn't have time for that. “Their…fucking gone." John said between heaving breaths, making it difficult for Ingraham to understand him.

“What was that?"

John waited a few seconds before he answered again. “The outpost is taken. They took over the outpost." He practically yelled at the fox. All movement stopped and everyone looked directly at him. Disbelief and fear dominated their expressions. “Everyone in that outpost is hostile, they know we are here now, and I heard them mobilizing as we fled. They will be coming very soon."

The captain was the first to recover, as an officer should. He looked around at his soldiers. They already looked defeated, and why wouldn't they? The enemy was strong enough to take the outpost. They couldn't run, not with the caravan. Even if they abandon the wagons they would still be run down. The enemy hadn't just marched here from Saraph. Ingraham knew he had to try and get control of the situation. “What are you all looking at?" He yelled at those around him, his displeasure at their idleness was clear. “Get into defense positions! We cannot outrun them; we will keep them from crossing this bridge!" Ingraham started to galvanize his troops into action. Orders were soon flying around as the soldiers of Saraph began to take up defensive positions, Ingraham directing all as he prepared for the attack. Finally he fell silent, observing them moving with speed to follow his command. “How many of there were there?" The Captain asked, with a sidelong glance.

Though the captain projected a calm aura to his soldiers, John could see the smallest trace of something there. Nerves perhaps. He was being forced into battle against an enemy he knew nothing about. John assumed that was a nightmare situation for any commander to be in. “I don't know. I never saw their full force, and Keith was only greeted by a welcome party."

Ingraham frowned. “So all we know is that they had enough power to take the outpost."

“Yeah pretty much" John said with a heavy sigh. That attitude from earlier had gone now. “We are in some deep shit here aren't we." He said looking at the soldiers. The bridge was not as heavily defended as he thought it would be, but it being a choke point it didn't need all their manpower. The enemy wouldn't be limited to attacking from the bridge though. They could cross the river as well, and it seemed like that was where most of the defense was going to take place. Two lines of defense were already forming on the shore. In the back line were the archers beginning to take up position, some planted arrows in the ground next to them, and others were kneeling in prayer. The front row was a wall of shield and spear. John hoped that the river would be enough to keep the number of enemies they fought manageable. “I guess I'll be with the archers for the fight. I won't do much good on the bridge." John said taking off for the archer line.

The position had good sightlines, though that was to be expected with a river being in front of them. Still, John wished he had some high ground. It would have made this a bit easier. Taking another look at this John became unsure about what they enemy would do. 'Would they really attack across the river? They are going to take a lot of loses if they try it.' He thought. Around him he saw some of the archers were wagon drivers, coming a bit late to the line they were just setting themselves up. 'I didn't realize that they were the archers as well. I wonder if they are actually soldiers, or if they just know how to use a bow.' They all stood ready, watching the other side for any movement. The defenses had been set. Now they waited.

Waiting for the inevitable. John had assumed that the soldiers around him had been here before, but that wasn't something he could say. He hadn't seen this type of combat before. Sneaking around a city, and a running gunfight through the jungle didn't compare to frontline battle. Yet, at that moment he felt that he would gladly do those again if it would get him out of the coming battle.

There was no talking on the line. All focus was forward, looking for the first sign of the enemy. He hoped that the training of the Saraphins served them well, because he was unconvinced that his own swordsmanship would win this day. His nerves were getting to him. He felt fear and deep down anticipation. Now he wasn't sneaking around out of sight. Now he was standing toe to toe with a large enemy force that knew exactly where he was. It was all he could do to keep from shaking. He was afraid to die here, on this shore alone. Threat of dying wasn't exactly a unique scenario for John at this point. He had been in danger so many times, so why was different now? Where had this anxiety suddenly come from? He couldn't be sure, but like everyone around him all he could do was wait. In short time, they would come to take his mind off this.

The Saraphins saw it before he did. He was only clued in when he saw the archers beginning to notch arrows. He followed their gazes across the river, trying to find something that would indicate an enemy presence. All he saw was foliage, but he didn't stop looking. Finally he spotted something. The movement of a few branches that wasn't very different than the gentle breeze that lightly shook the trees. A shadow passing moving quickly confirmed it. The enemy had arrived. The archers held their bows low. It would be a waste of energy try anything right now. There was no clear target, John guess. Either that or the range was too far, John, however, had not such limitations. He studied the opposite tree line very closely. Searching for his opportunity.

Movement on the other side caught his attention and a small amount of some armor showing gave him a target. He aimed at the piece, and slowly he saw what appeared to be some fur started to poke through the bush. Then he saw them coming out of the brush. Two of them, and one was a dragon. He needed to die before he could do any damage. They didn't charge out of the bush, but rather they stayed partially hidden in the bush. John didn't really understand why they were out in the open like that. Maybe they thought they were safe enough to survey their lines, and under normal circumstances they were right. But things haven't been normal for a long time. John lined up the shot. The dragon was wearing plate armor, which combined with a dragons naturally tough scales left John unsure if his round would penetrate both defenses. Unfortunately for the dragon though, he wore no helm. The head and neck of the dragon was a large enough target to aim for. His nervousness burned away as the explosion propelled the dangerous projectile forward. The smell of gunpowder beginning to drift into the air.

The sound of the rifle firing startled everyone on both side of the river, except for two. John himself, and the green dragon whose lifeless body was gently tumbling down the small slope into the river. The second target was stuck in shock, he didn't realize that he too was in danger. A fatal mistake that soon found his body joining the dragons. As the crack of the gun faded there was silence again. Next to John the archers could only stare in disbelief of what they had just seen and heard, looking between him and the dead bodies.

John lowered the rifle. It had seemed they were back at the waiting game again. 'Well this is off to a fairly good start. I should stop worrying so much. Maybe they will back of—' John cut the thought short as the opposite tree line began to move, everywhere. Even if he couldn't directly see them he could tell there were a lot of enemies hidden in the trees. He was about to have a lot more targets. The shifting trees stopped as suddenly as it started. Nothing moved, nor could anything be seen, at least not by John. The archers looked around at each other nervously, wondering what was about to come at them. Some foolishly hoping, as John did, that the enemy was pulling back. Their questions were answered, and hopes crushed, as a great cry sounded from the opposite shore line. Then the floodgates opened.

They exploded from the tree line, attempting to cross the river with sheer numbers. And they had numbers. Even with all that had burst from the trees, more were still coming. They had no formation as they plunged into the river, just a large mass of death moving towards them. An intimidating show of force, one that was effective. Thankfully, while John might have been stunned by the sudden show of force, his body moved into auto-pilot. He sent round down range based on pure instinct. With each roar of his rifle, one more body flowed down the river. Then again, with such a mass of bodies coming at them, it was hard to not hit something.

Whistles and the twang of bowstrings, joined the choirs of battle. He watched the arrows fly towards the enemy. More bodies flowing down the river, but it was just a dent in the numbers coming towards them. The speed the archers were able to fire their arrows amazed John, and slowly it seemed like they started to have an effect. Not only were they beginning to cut into their numbers, but the bodies of the fallen made for good obstacles to those still alive crossing the river. At the very least they knew they were making the lives of the defensive line easier. Despite the impressive output of projectiles, the enemy was getting closer. The defensive line was preparing for them. They would have their work cut out for them, but the constant barrage flying into the enemy did help their moral.

John dropped the empty mag and sild another home, but just as he was about to start firing he saw something moving across the bridge. Looking over he saw another wall of enemies crossing the bridge. Unlike those coming across the water, these ones were in a formation. A wall of shields advanced towards the Saraph line. They were also better armored, wearing mostly plate armor. Slowly, one shield wall approaching another with spears pointing out. It would be a battle of attrition for the bridge, and with the number against them it wasn't one the Saraphins were likely to win. Still, John had yet to meet armor in this world that would stop a bullet. Ignoring the river for the moment, John waited as the two lines slowly got closer. Right as they were within striking distance of each other John swung his rifle over, unloading into the shield wall of the enemy.

The front line of the enemy formation collapsed as the bullets punched through the shields and armor. The anthros in the front row didn't stand a chance, and the anthros behind them suddenly faltered as the dead fell on them, or they tripped over the corpses. The hole this caused in the line was massive, and the Saraphins took no time to exploit it. They struck out at the vulnerable, causing more disorder as the attackers tried to push up to cover the gap. Some of the enemy had already been shaken, standing frozen in shock, making another obstacle for their brethren to try navigate. The steel of the Saraphins was quick to run them through. John smiled, in one mag he had caused so much damage. The attackers were finally starting to close rank again, but the confidence that the Saraphins gained made them press the advantage. Even though the enemy had closed ranks, it was now on the defensive.

John was about to put a few parting shots into the enemy column, but an arrow whizzing by his face put an end to that. He brought his attention back to the river. What he saw, though it was inevitable, dismayed him. The enemy had finally reached the shore, and was about to clash with the defensive line. The sound of an arrow hitting flesh prioritized the targets though, and as he looked behind the forming enemy line he could see a few enemy archers had begun to fire at them. Unfortunately for them, they became the focus of not just John, but nearly every archer in the line. Those that weren't felled by John's rifle found themselves pierced by multiple arrows.

They began to fire again on the reinforcements coming across the river, making the enemy pay for everybody that made it to their side of the river. But in the end more and more had begun to make it onto the beach, and slowly the defensive line was being strained. The soldiers of Saraph were well trained, and even in these conditions they were holding up very well, but the enemy didn't stop coming, and the archers could only do so much. As the enemies started to pile up, the defensive line began to cede ground towards them.

John was still pouring the lead out, but out of the corner of his eye he saw some of the archers drop their bows and pick up other weapons. His gut dropped. 'So soon?' he thought as more began to switch to other weapons. They may not have been as trained in melee combat, being archers, but there wasn't much of a choice. They were at the point where options of last resort became the only action left. The Saraphins were winning that fight, spectacularly, with the enemy never truly recovering from John's barrage. But they needed to win both fights to win this battle, while the enemy only needed to win one. And with the defensive line being pushed back, it looked good for the enemy.

Even with the new bodies on the line, segments of the line were bulging. Those sections received his support, but he soon found himself threating to be engulfed by the receding line. Looking across the river John noticed that there were no more trying to cross. They had either finally run out of bodies, or they were between waves. Either way it was another thing he didn't have to focus on, as the melee finally started to engulfed him. A few of the enemy broke through the line, but lead was their reward for their efforts. It didn't take long for John to finally get swallowed up. He looked around, certain that death would spear though him at any moment. Despite this, he kept up his firing. There was plenty to shoot at, though now targets were all around him, not just in front. He kept pouring it onto the enemy, but as he fired shot after shot down range a thought crossed him. 'Why the hell do I keep getting in these situations?'

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The sun was setting, and the sky was beginning to show its evening colors. It wasn't until then that the orders were given to collect their dead while the next actions were decided. They had deliberated for some time, but in the end their decision came down to manpower. They couldn't protect themselves from a night attack in the open, and most of the soldiers were exhausted. The long march, and the intense battle were draining enough, but most of them were still going because they didn't know if they were truly safe or not. Marching back, they would be extremely vulnerable to another attack, whether it be from the enemy or wildlife attracted to the smell of fresh bodies. They just wouldn't be able to fight back effectively, not to mention they might lose some to exhaustion if they pushed too much. There was only one option.

“So, what's the plan then?" John said, eyes scanning across the river, like they had been since the battle stopped.

The fox sighed, his ears flatting for a second before coming back. “The plan right now is to scout the outpost out, and occupy it if it's empty." Keith said “We've already sent the scouts out, so hopefully they come back soon."

“And if they don't?"

The fox didn't say anything. John sighed letting his head hang, the tension leaving his body momentarily, but was quickly replaced by numbness. Now that things were calming down his body was beginning to get heavier, but now wasn't the time for rest. He struggled against his tired body, trying to keep himself ready.

The others were packing their dead into the wagons. They weren't going to leave their brethren out to be torn apart by scavengers. The enemy, though, was a different story. Shortly after the morbid business was done, the scouts came back. The enemy had abandon the outpost, so that's where they were headed. The speed that they got the wagons moving again surprised him. And when they started to move out, he felt as stiff as a corpse. However, the promise of safety was enough a beacon of hope to give him, and he suspected the others too, energy to move. Thankfully that stiffness didn't last, and walking got easier, though the numbness remained.

The walk to the outpost as uneventful, but there was a general rush to get inside the safety of the walls once they got to the gates. The whole time they were getting the caravan in the outpost John wished they would move faster. The less time the doors stayed open the better. It didn't take that long, somewhere around 10 minutes, and the second those doors closed the tension was lifted from the soldiers. They had walls surrounding them, a welcome improvement to their predicament. Still there wasn't much time to rest yet. Once inside they set about making camp, getting watches set, and other things that a military force needs to do to make camp. John didn't really have a role, so he took the time to take stock of the outpost, finding it surprisingly intact. There weren't any obvious signs of fighting anywhere. Strange for an outpost that had fallen to attackers. The lack of battle damage in the outpost, with the exception of the torched food stores, was something that some of the soldiers were going to take advantage of. The barracks were unscathed, or they at least looked it from the outside. The promise of beds inside made for too tempting a luxury to those who had completed their duties, or perhaps were shirking them. John for his part, would have been quite content to faceplant on a patch of grass and drift off. As long as he had the walls around him, he didn't care. He resisted that urge for rest though. He needed to take stock of his own supplies.

The peace that had settled was short lived though, as screams of terror emanated from the barracks. Every soldier drew their weapons and faced the source of the screams. Everyone ready for the approaching fight, but it was their solders that came stumbling out of the barracks. They looked physically unscathed but they were coughing, dry heaving, and full blown puking their guts out. Seeing no obvious signs of attack John ran over to the barracks, were he was joined by Keith and Ingraham who went to the soldiers that had exited the barracks. John didn't follow, instead he walked up to the door, took a moment to calm himself and slowly opened it, his pistol in hand in front of him.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. His eyes immediately started to tear up and his hands went to cover his nose and mouth. As he started to cough he was thankful that fate did not bless humans with the same sense of smell the anthros possessed. It was horrifying enough for his human nose. As his eyes adjusted to the darkened interior of the barracks the mystery of the smell was revealed.

John heard footsteps approaching. He glanced over his shoulder to see the two foxes approaching. “It would seem the original garrison is still present." His voice strained as he tried to keep his own stomach from emptying. From the sounds behind him, Keith was in a similar situation.

John and Ingraham took a few steps into the barracks, into the horror show. Bodies were piled everywhere, decaying in heaps.

“These men in front were slain in their sleep." Ingraham said, pointing to the bodies that were wrapped up in the first few cots. “They were still sleeping in their cots; unless the enemy had some sick sense of humor to stage the bodies." He continued in until he reached the first bodies on the ground. “At least most of them were able to wake up and try to defend themselves."

“How would they have been asleep if the outpost was under attack?" Keith asked, finally settling his stomach enough to follow John and Ingraham.

“There wasn't a siege." John said turning to the fox. “When we scouted this place out before, there wasn't much damage to the walls, and even inside the outpost is free of damage. The garrison didn't know they were under attack until the enemy was in their barracks. So the enemy either snuck in" He paused as some loose object clattered to the ground causing everyone to turn to the sound. They stood in silence waiting for anything to happen. “or, someone let them in." John finished, the three lowered their weapons.

“We are going to have to check the perimeter for holes, and then the rest of the base for any type of tunnel that might have allowed to them to enter." Ingraham said, sheathing his sword. “Keith." Keith nodded and left the barracks in a hurry. John liked that idea of leaving. Staying in this house of death was starting to get to him.

“John" The human turned to the Captain. “Since this the place where most of the garrison was killed, it stands to reason that if there are tunnels one leads here." John knew what the Captain was going to ask. He didn't want to, he really didn't. The Captain must have seen that reluctances. “Please John. It would go by quicker with two, and I don't want to subject more to this." He said sweeping his hand around.

John sighed, then immediately regretted it as the putrid air assaulted his lungs. “Fine." He said after finally regaining control of his breathing. He didn't want to do it, but he also shared Ingrahams desire to minimize exposure to this forsaken building. “Where do we begin?"

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It had not been particularly quick, but they got it done. They didn't find any tunnels, and the perimeter search came up empty as well. So with a newfound sense of security the Saraphins broke out camp, no one wanting to spend time in any building, even if the barracks was the only building with bodies in it. As night finally fell the survivors gathered around the various fires that had sprouted inside the outpost. There was no joy around the fires, only bitterness, sadness, and an uneasy peace. It was a tying day and most wished to, at the very least, put it behind them. John didn't really join them, though some where gracious enough to offer him some of the stew they had cooked up, so at least he wasn't going hungry tonight. Even with this new-found comradery they showed him he was much more comfortable staying away from the groups. After a day like today though, he couldn't stay alone for long. So he searched for the only two who he felt like he could be around right now. They weren't in the little camp that had sprung up in the middle of the outpost, which left only a few places for to look.

He made his way to the front of the outpost. The gatehouse. A place that the two leaders could be separate from the others. Where they wouldn't have to be careful about what they said. He looked up to the sky as he walked. The moon looked one he was familiar with. The surface was much smoother, with less craters, and as a result the moon less dark splotches than Earths. It made the moon just that much brighter. It was something he did a lot recently, looking at the moon. He didn't know why, sometimes he would look and find himself feeling homesick. Wondering if he would ever see his moon again. Still, he was grateful that the moon was out tonight. He didn't fancy pure darkness today.

He passed along the short road that lead to the gates of the outpost. It was deserted here, with good reason. The carts were spaced along the sides of the road, with covers hiding their cargo from view. The last thing the soldiers needed was to see the empty stares of their comrades. However, John was not alone amongst the dead tonight, as a figure was stood hovering over one of the carts. John's first reaction was to reach down to his pistol as he slowly moved toward the figure, but it didn't take much to realize that was an overreaction. Instead he made his way over to the figure as quietly as he could. As he got closer he heard a familiar voice, whispering to the dead. Khan.

At first John wanted to be away from the tiger, and moved to go around him with a wide berth, but he stopped before he got too far. The one who had beaten him down, and had John in terror, was crying. He had never seen anything other than hate and ager from the tiger. Yet here he stood, hunched over one of the carts, sobbing and whispering softly to someone in the cart. John found that he just couldn't move.

“What do you want creature?" Khan asked bitingly, a tone much more familiar to John. “Do you come here to mock me in my grief?"

The implication of what the tiger had said lit a fire in him, shaking him out of his stupor. The insinuation that he would in some way take pleasure from anyone's grief, especially the grief of losing a friend to the day's battle, was infuriating to John. He started to retaliate, but quickly held his breath. The day had been hard on everyone. And considering the history between the two, a small spark of conflict could lead to something far bigger. “Khan." He said with an exhausted sigh. “No more fighting today, please. There has been enough of it."

The tiger grew tense for a moment, but the fight left him and he returned his gaze to the cart. “If you do not come here to taunt me then why are you here?"

“I was looking for Keith and Ingraham. Thought they might be on the walls somewhere." John said taking a couple of steps closer to the wagon. Thankfully the wagons were cloaked in shadow, so he did not have to see what he knew was there. There was no amount of words that could express how much John wanted to leave, but he couldn't. For so long he had been terrorized by the mere thought of Khan. That he would return to avenge himself, after he had been humiliated and demoted. He certainly let everyone know of his disdain for John, according to Keith. Yet, he had saved John from being killed today, and they had fought to protect each other. This one battle had changed much, and he felt now was the time for him to see this one through, whatever the results might be. “Who was he?" He asked softly as he took a cautionary step back, in case the tiger lashed out.

Kahn didn't say anything for a time. Long enough that John was about ready to give in and walk away. “My only friend." The tiger finally said, wiping his eyes again. “After I was placed here, he was the only one who showed me kindness. While everyone else looked at me in scorn, he was the only one to offer friendship." The wet fur on his hands was becoming more and more inefficient at drying his eyes. It seemed that he had been like this for a while. “Some called me coward, spineless, and other names that I will not repeat. Most didn't even speak to me, except for him." The tiger turned towards John his fist clenched. “I was so angry after the council's punishment was decided, after the so many others came to your defense. I couldn't understand why my own brothers had taken your side." The tiger's watery gaze settled over the wagon again and his rage subsided. “He helped me understand my transgressions. He calmed me when I felt nothing but anger and rage and hate."

To be cast out. To be alone. John had been lucky enough to never have been put in that situation before. Even here, he was accepted into Saraph so fast he never really felt alone. Most Saraphins were accepting of him as well. Even if they weren't, he still had a certain dragoness who would never leave him alone. It wasn't something he wanted to experience either. “I don't think you're any of those things Khan." That got a skeptical look from the tiger. “You were angry. It seems to be universal that when people are angry they don't make the best decisions. People let their emotions cloud their judgement." The skepticism turned to shock for the tiger. “I in no way saying your actions were justified," John added quickly, causing the tiger to flinch a bit. “but understanding helps to bring forgiveness. You are not those things they said you are. You stayed with the guard, and you endured while everyone ostracized you. Facing that every day is not what a coward does. Not only that, you saved my life today. You put yourself in danger to save me. That speaks a lot about you." John looked back at the wagon. He felt cold as the moonlight gave him light enough to see a little bit inside the wagon. Limbs were crossing over each other, some bent in ways that would me painful to those still living. He looked away to compose himself. It wasn't the first time he had seen dead bodies before, but he couldn't handle it at the moment.

Khan had finally recovered from his own shock, and was giving him a curious look. “I'm not sure if we can ever be friends Khan." He said, finally composing himself. “Maybe one day, but until then we don't have to be enemies. You've proved that already." He said patting the tiger on the shoulder.

John was content to leave it at that. Walking away, he was startled to see a number of anthros were watching the two of them. They eyed Khan more than John, trepidation clearly visible. As if they were waiting for some disaster to unfold before them. 'They were waiting to see if this would turn into a fight.' He realized. Given what Khan had just said, he wondered how many would have helped him if it did go that way. John nodded in reassurance that all was alright. They returned the gesture, giving one last glance at the tiger, and turned away to go back to their groups. John took one last look at Khan. He sincerely hoped things would get better for the tiger. But as his eyes fell on the wagons again he felt a sudden urge to get farther away from them. As he walked along he didn't notice the shaking in his right hand.

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John opened the door leading to the lookout. If it were daytime he would be able to see the spot where Keith was ambushed, and where he hid while looking over the fort. In the present though, the people he was looking for seemed to be ending their conversation.

“We'll start tomorrow early. I want everyone up and ready to go before sunrise." Both foxes turned to regard John as he closed the door.

“Good thing I pack light. I'll be able to get a few more minutes of shut eye while everyone else is breaking down camp."

“Is there something you needed John?" Ingraham asked.

“Nothing in particular, just wanted to see some familiar faces." He said as he sat down, back against one of the walls. “We heading out in darkness then?"

“Possibly." Ingraham said. “It depends on how fast we can get pyres made."

“Pyres?" John thought back to the bloated bodies in the barracks. They weren't in a state to be moved into a pyre. “For those in the barracks?"

“For those lost today." Keith answered, solemnly. “Those in the barracks are too rotted. I don't think there is anyone that would be willing to enter to bring them out."

“No, the barracks will remain sealed." Ingraham finished.

It was all sound in John's mind. If anyone tried to move those in the barracks the results would likely be, unpleasant at best. It was also not likely that the bodies of those fallen yesterday would make it back to Saraph before they started to rot themselves.

“Yes sir." Keith said with a crisp salute. The Captain returned the salute, then walked out of the lookout.

John stood up to allow Ingraham to pass by him easier, and his gazed shifted to the land before him. John was looking at the spot where the Keith had been earlier today. He visualized how it must have looked from here. He could see Keith yelling up to him, oblivious to the danger approaching behind him. He looked off to the side, but he couldn't see where the archers were from this angle. Still the bear likely knew they were there. Looking back on the dark road before him he wondered if the bear could see his death before it hit him. It was too dark to see it, but he tried to find where he been during this exchange. He gave up after some time, looking back down the road. His mind seeing flashes of light off to the side, in the direction he started shooting from. What was it like to hear the shots of the rifle, not knowing what it was before suddenly everything ended? Looking down he noticed something that he failed to earlier. A dark stain against the wood, pooled on the ground at his feet. He remembered the bear in his sights again, watching in horror as his comrades died around him just before he took two in the chest. He could see the bear falling to the ground in this spot. John wondered what might have played through his mind, if he survived the shot. Did he try and call for help, only to realize himself unable to? Did he die here alone, gasping for air trying desperately to stop the blood from oozing from the wounds torn into him? Did he even understand that he had been mortally wounded or was he in shock? Did he have fam-

“John" Keith's concerned voice called out to him. John snapped his head to look at the fox. John's grip relaxing on the wood ledge he unknowing held in a death grip. “Are you doing well John John?"

John took a few minutes to compose himself, his breathing heavier and his heart pounding. “It's been a long time since I've been alright." He said softly to himself, though the fox heard it clearly. John took his hand off the wall for a second, only to see it shaking. He quickly placed it back. “We narrowly escaped death today, more than once." He said looking back at the outpost, and replacing his shaking hand back onto the wall. “If we had made it into the outpost we would have been slaughtered. Trapped in here, surrounded."

“We manage to avoid that trap, but they hurt us. An entire outpost, taken. At least half of the unit are piled into the carts." John sat down, back against the wall followed by Keith. “And yet even with the losses we are lucky to have gotten off as well as we did."

Keith looked over to John, noticing that John was focused on something other than himself. “Why did you come up here?" When he received no answer, he followed Johns gaze to a dark spot on the floor. “John, why are you looking at dried blood?"

Had John been in a right mind he would have cursed for being so obvious. He never liked to be so open with his emotions, but he currently felt numb. He moved around the stain, making sure to stay a good body length away from it, then sank to the floor with his back pressed against the wall. “Like I said, it's been a long time since I've been alright." John said.

Keith watched the cautiously, unsure what to do. Something clearly had happened to John, but the human was notorious for never explaining anything. He moved over to John, and took a seat next to him. Something was affecting John greatly, but what it was Keith couldn't figure. Something that could bring down the seemingly invincible human, that thought scared the fox more than anything that they might face returning home.

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“When we set out yesterday we knew it would be dangerous, but we could not imagine just what was to come. Yet despites our own losses, it is not the only tragedy that we faced yesterday. Inside these barracks are all those who had stationed at this outpost. They chose to dedicate their lives to help protect Saraph, to protect their loved ones and all who call Saraph home. It is a chose that all of –“ John had started to tune out the speech, his eyes heavy. Sleep been sporadic at best, though when he did sleep his mind remained blissfully dark. He had no memories of anything other than the calming blackness. The turbulent night was coming back to bite him at the moment though. John was struggling to keep alert and awake, and falling asleep was understandably something he wanted to avoid right now. At least the march back to Saraph would at least wake him up some, he hoped. John shook his head lightly trying to pay attention to Ingraham's words, but it seemed that he had concluded his speech while John had been out of it. Keith was currently offering a torch to the Captain. There was a moment of silence as Ingraham stared at the building, with others lighting fire to other parts of the structure. The wagons were set fire next, the extra wood added to them in an attempt to make makeshift pyres caught fires surprisingly fast.

Everything became a rush after that. The order was given for everyone to be packed and ready to go before the impromptu services. Despite how fast the barracks was consumed by the fires they would still be leaving before the fire was too large to be around. As everyone was rushing to form up to leave John stood in facing the barracks. The cracking of the flames was relaxing to John, reminding him of simpler times. Bonfires and family, friends and beer. Even knowing what the fire consumed, it gave some semblance of relief. He checked the straps that held the sword to his body. It was really just tied around a belt loop, seeing that he didn't have any other way to secure a sword to him. Feeling the sword drained that sense of relief he felt. Strange that something meant to protect himself with case such unease. He remained unfamiliar with the weapon, in spite his supposed mastery of them. Just when things might have begun making sense, they didn't.

By now the fire had engulfed the whole barracks. Most of the remaining soldiers and wagons were gathering in formation at the gates of the outpost. John finally left for the formation, heading to the front. He arrived to find the two foxes surveying the scene behind the formation.

“It seems like the fire is starting to get out of control." Keith noted, but Ingraham remained silent.

“Considering what happened here, it's probably better if the whole place burned." John said, looking at the flames rising higher into the air.

The Captain nodded in agreement, but didn't say another word. He simply watched as the formation finally came together, speaking when he felt it was good enough. “The road back is long, and we won't be safe until we are back behind Saraph's walls. Remember to keep vigilant. We do not know where the enemy might be. They may have retreated, but if they are to attack again they have had a whole night to prepare." He looked forward to the anthros at the doors and nodded. They pulled the doors open. “MOVE OUT!" The Captain shouted, and the wagons lurched forward.

As they took their first steps outside John felt tense. Looking all around for anything that might indicate an attack. That tenseness, that feeling of vulnerability, would not disappear until they were safe behind Saraph's walls. Safe was a long way away. “You really think they are going to let us get back home alive after yesterday?" He said quietly to the two foxes, trying to keep the rest from hearing him. They didn't need the hit to moral.

“That depends on one thing." Ingraham answered.

“What?"

“Whether they accomplished their mission or not." The Captain answered.

John slowed down as he thought about what Ingraham had said. 'If they had completed their mission, then there will be no resistance going home.' Which was a comfort, but at the same time the prospect was terrifying. 'Just what the hell where they doing out here?' It couldn't have been simply to take the outpost, you don't leave the place you take when you defend it. Why would you burn the food stores if you planned to occupy it? There were too many questions, and anyone who could answer them was either dead in the river or well outside of Saraph territory by now.

John look back at the outpost getting farther behind them. He could see the flames licking over the top of the outpost, the whole thing was going to be consumed in flames. Still the question nagged at him, and likely the two foxes around him 'Just what the hell were they after?'

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Darkness had long since fallen by the time they arrived back at Saraph. The watch was relieved when they showed up. They were expecting them sooner, and the council was beginning to grow restless. Unfortunately, that relief was shaken when they noticed how many were marching to the gates. It had been a long and tense march back, but thankfully they hadn't been attack. Being inside the city gates released the tension built up over the long march in the survivors. Some collapsed in exhaustion, the toll of the past couple of days too much for them. Thankfully their brothers were quick to aid those that needed help getting back to the barracks. They had gotten this far together, and they fully complete the journey together.

John began to shuffle down the street, thankful for the darkness. It was calm, something would not be the case with the regular day crowd. With the calm of night, it gave everyone the chance to come to terms with the events that transpired. John didn't really give it too much thought though. There would be plenty of time for that later. Fatigue had finally caught up to him and he wouldn't have minded if he slept for a full week. He looked up to the Keep, silhouetted by the light of the moon, then up to where he lived. He wished he had wings, as he continued on. Behind him he could hear the convoy begin to move again as they went back to their barracks. He also heard footsteps coming closer. The two foxes came up beside him. The council had to be informed about the situation after all, and that job fell to them.

But John wouldn't be present this time. Unlike his companions, he wasn't obligated by military duty to report to them. He fully intended to use that to his advantage. Looking over at the two they shared a moment of silence. Nothing was said on the walk back. It wasn't really needed. The feeling of not walking alone was enough for John, and it seemed that his company was enough for them as well.

The rest was a blur for John's tired mind as they arrived at the keep. They went their separate ways, and he returned to the manor above the keep. He was so tired. His body demanded rest, everything else was secondary. He found himself in front of his room, though he hardly remembered getting there. Opening the door, he began to strip, letting his clothes fall on the floor as he shuffled for the bed. If it had not been dark he would have seen the various bruises on his body, the wounds sustained from battle, the dried blood, and the dirt. It made quiet the horrifying scene. It might have even been enough for him to consider bathing before he slept. But it was dark, and he didn't notice the sorry shape he was in. Pushing all other concerns away, John fell into the bed, and in seconds he was out.

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John's eyes fluttered open, and was immediately confused. Something was wrong. the world around him was extremely distorted. He could see the sky above him, with green in his peripheries, but he nothing was in focus. He also couldn't feel ground against him. He reached around, noticing that his arms moved slowly, almost as if something was resisting him. 'A river?' He finally realized. He was submerged in a river. 'Why am I in a river?' The water was a getting a little muddy, his moving stirring up the sediment, but he tried to make out exactly where he was. He looked over to the trees and followed them down to a small beach. Something about this place looked familiar, but he didn't know from where. He hadn't explored much around Saraph, and it certainly didn't look like anywhere from back home. Following the beach there was a bridge not too far upstream from him. It became clear very fast just which shoreline he was looking at. The last he had seen it, bodies were still scattered on the sand. It looked so peaceful now, no trace of the battle had raged here. 'Where are the bodies?' He though as he twisted to looking around for any signs of the battle. 'They were still there when we crossed weren't they?' Not only was it empty but from what he could tell, which wasn't much considering the distorting effects of the water, it looked undisturbed.

John's mental ramblings were cut short as a burning sensation in his chest reminded him that he was not an aquatic mammal and needed air soon. He tried to orient himself so he could ascend, but something hit him in the chest and pinned him to the riverbed. A hand was holding him. A black, furred had. 'What the hell?Where did this--' He grabbed hold of the arm as he looked at its owner. If he could gasp underwater he would have, for standing before him was a black wolf. Its throat was missing showing all the flesh underneath. Blood started to suddenly pour from the wound into the river, quickly coloring John's vision red. His lungs still burning, John tried to push the hand off of him, but it held firm. He started to thrash around, flailing his limbs to try and shake off the wolf but to no avail. Suddenly another hand held his left arm down. John looked at this new assailant. He saw a caribou with half a snout looking down at him. He tried to thrash around again but he felt more hands on him. He looked around. A lion with a hole in its head, a raccoon with one of its legs missing, another wolf with its throat slit, a bullet riddled gryphon. More and more anthros began to show up, each adding their own power to hold John under the waterline. The water grew darker as the river practically turned to blood, until finally all John could see was the dark red around him. He screamed with the last bit of air he had in his lungs, trying desperately to break free but the grip of the fallen was too much. His vision started to blacken. It wouldn't be long before he went out. 'Please, don't let me die here.' He prayed to whatever deity may be listening. He gave one last attempt to break free, before he blacked out.

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His eyes snapped open to pure darkness. The darkness wasn't the only thing wrapping him however, as he felt arms around him. He was in pure fight-or-flight as he struggled against the force holding him, desperate to break free, but the grip was too strong and he was too out of it to think of a better way of escape.

“John!" A familiar voice called out to him. “John please be calm." He felt a soothing wave wash over him, and his struggles stopped as his body stopped thrashing. The fear didn't leave him, but it was almost like something else gave him the fortitude to think despite his panic. He lay there with his eyes wide, breath heavy as he started to reevaluate his surroundings. Much remained the same, except now he felt warmth pressed against him.

Warm. The river had been cold, and the dead had no warmth left in them. This wasn't the river. Slowly he traced the fine scales of the arms wrapped around him, and up the shoulder. He moved his hand towards the darkness around it, and found not air but a leathery membrane. A wing. “Cearra." It brought him comfort to say her name. His eyes finally started to make out her silhouette, but as he looked to her face he could see her beautiful eyes clearly. They showed him the concern and pain she felt as she held him.

“I'm sorry." She said, her eyes beginning to water. Her wings and arms began to retract, revealing the moonlit room. “I didn't mean to intrude, but I felt your conflict John. I felt fear and pain and I couldn't stand by an—“Her explanation was cut off by John cupping her face. She didn't have anything to explain to him. Ever since he sent her away that night he had regretted it. He had been afraid of his own feelings, and what they meant. But nearly dying had a way of changing a person. Only time would tell what would come from those changes, and so far it wasn't looking good, but there was at least one positive change to come from it.

Cearra's eyes grew wide as he pressed his lips into hers. She squeaked in surprise, at first staying still as John kissed her. That was soon fixed as she overcame her initial surprise and push back into John as she wrapped him up in her embrace again. Her tail even wound around him, pulling him in deeper as she trilled happily. It was a kiss long overdue, one of love finally given, releasing the tension between the two as passion. She allowed the link to open, and she was flooded with his current feelings. She rushed here because she could feel his anguish, but now she fell happiness, relief, and many other emotions. The comfort that he gained from her very presence now, instead of the anxious dread she had felt before he left. The connection was two ways though, and he could feel her happiness as he finally accepted her, as well as the desire to protect him as he had protected her. Dragons do love to protect their hoards, after all. The link that both shared became stronger, and would continue to do so as they became each other's.

Finally, the two pulled away from each other, but only far enough to breath. It seemed like an eternity as they stared at each other, breathing heavily. John broke contact first, averting his gaze. Once again, she could feel his mind twist again, and she worried he may try to pull back away from her again. But it was guilt that rose in him. “I said such a horrible thing to you. I avoided you. I pushed you away." He looked at her, as the tears started to fall. Before he could continue she dove in again, joining their lips again. This one was quick, to stop him from going off the edge again. “How? Why?"

She smiled at him as she guided him onto his back. “I always felt your true feelings John, even when you could not." She said as she lay her head on his chest, her wings splayed out around them. “I knew that in your heart you didn't truly want me gone. That your heart didn't mean what you said." She kissed him tenderly again, enjoying the sensations flowing through her when they were connected. Still, she could tell there was something still wrong with him as his mind filled with turmoil again.

Cearra place one of her hands over his heart, feeling it racing. His attention was focused on her again. Acting on instinct she willed her own calming emotions to John, helping to suppress his fear again. “You need not worry tonight John, about anything. Together we will strengthen each other from the terrors of night. Together there is nothing that can make us feel fear." She said grabbing his hand in hers. “Will you let me help you John?"

John knew that she was talking about the link they shared. He had no idea what the link between them was capable of, but tonight he was getting a taste of it. And it would only get stronger as time went on. Before tonight he was limited in what he felt from her unless she was in emotional distress. Now, he felt her with him as she steadied him. It as unlike anything he thought possible, and it gave him hope. Hope that with her he could begin to cope with the last couple of months. Even if it didn't, being close to her, embracing as lovers, was not a feeling he ever wanted to let go. The sense of completeness he felt was not from the link, but from him finally being able to accept his own feelings instead of rejecting them. No, he would rather die than let this completeness ever leave him. He squeezed her hand gently in his. “I will never push you away again."

Tears rolled down her face as she smiled, happy and thankful. She nestled up tightly against him as he lay his arm around her. She purred in content as she was finally where she wanted to be more than anywhere. In the arms of her mate. They both fell into a peaceful slumber, neither noticing the faint glow encasing them.