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Tales Of Morveria: Flight of Fancy

A story of conflict, friendship and more.

By Mantrid Brizon

Part One: The Caravan

Sitting beside the crackling fire, a young man warms his hands. The chilly night air gives him a brief shiver and reminds him why they're traveling south. Another man, a few years older and a member of his caravan, moves toward the fire. He emerges from the darkness, near his wagon, only to sit close to the flickering flames. Removing a wool glove, he flexes his fingers before placing his hand near the fire's base. Looking to each other, they share a gaze, silently affirming their own discomfort.

"Cold tonight, isn't it El?" The man asks.

"That it is, Aton." El murmurs.

Hearing a sudden shuffling, El glances to his left. His eyes focus on the source, which emerges swiftly from the darkness. Sharp, golden talons crown the toes of a pair of large, avian feet. They dig into the soft earth, kicking up minuscule dust clouds with each step. He turns and leans back, facing the creature which comes toward him with incredible speed. A hand reaches back as he braces himself for impact. The beast seems emboldened by his display and moves even faster!

Black feathers are glossy in the moonlight, which, nearly full, provides enough light for him to also distinguish the creature's light blue fluff and accentuating feathers. Unclothed, the beast's modest breasts and slender waist reveal her gender. A sharp and angular beak sits just beneath a pair of brilliant topaz eyes, which seem to glow faintly in the darkness, like little candles. With two arms outstretched, the long and sturdy feathers of the soaring Peryava appear almost like a short cloak or cape. Coiled fingers are topped with razor sharp, golden claws!

At a little more than three cubits and a hand in height, the beast would be quite fearsome, were it not for the gleam of the ovular, green glass bottle in her hand. Angling her body and sliding across the ground, she turns just in time, her side slamming against El's chest as he catches her. He chuckles as an arm falls over the dainty creature's body, himself nearly falling backward from the force. He embraces her as he steadies himself. Her warmth is more than welcome on such a cold night. With arm outstretched, she presents the bottle to him.

"Thanks." He chirps.

She nods, her eyes bright and warm. Had she the lips to do so, she'd be smiling.

"I told you she'd find it." He says, presenting the bottle to Aton, who sits across from him.

"That you did!" Aton chuckles, collecting the lost bottle of fine wine. "I thought I would never see it again, after it rolled out of the back of our wagon... It was a gift from my father."

"You likely wouldn't have, if you hadn't asked for our help. Her eyes are keen, even in the night." El remarks, turning his eyes toward the night sky.

"Clearly... Tell me, El... How is it you came to meet, erm..."

"Keket."

"Yes. How did you come to meet her? The Peryava are a rare sight, indeed, and to see one so docile... Well, it's rather remarkable!"

"I suppose it is."

Glancing down at Keket, Elahazhu, who's always preferred the shortened version of his name, watches her for a moment. She seems to burrow a little deeper into his grasp. With her head against his chest, her pointy and angled beak faces the fire, which she promptly stokes with a long stick. A sharp gust ruffles the black fuzz that covers her hands like gloves. As if feeling his gaze, she tilts her head back and looks up at him. Her beak nearly smacks his nose, eliciting a soft chuckle.

With a small smile on his face, he gazes down at the Peryava as he very tenderly caresses her cheek. Closing her eyes, she softly coos as she rests her head against his chest. His grasp tightens as they share their warmth, and El rests his chin atop the crown of Keket's head.

"We've been friends for quite some time. To tell you the truth, I often fail to realize that she is one of the beast folk." He murmurs, nuzzling her forehead.

"I can see that! Still, I cannot help but be curious. How did you find such a creature? What brought the two of you together? Was she purchased in a foreign land, visited during your many travels?" Aton speculates.

"You make my life sound exciting!" El laughs as he looks to him.

"Perhaps she was a gift from a tribal Tal'viir, for doing a good deed?! Or did you earn her loyalty by aiding her tribe?!" Aton continues.

"It was nothing quite so dramatic." El replies, his hand now resting upon Keket's slender shoulder, giving her a little squeeze.

"Then what was it?"

Gazing down at Keket, she turns her eyes up to him, her head remaining against his chest. He'd spent so much time with her these past few months that he hasn't really given their meeting much thought. At the time, it was simply a turn of events. Now, however, as he thinks back on that fateful morning, it feels different...

"Ela!" A woman's voice teasingly proclaims. "Oh, Ela!"

"Don't call me that!"

"But you like it, Ela!" She laughs.

"No, I don't!"

With a frustrated grumble, El sits beside a wagon, watching the others. Karianna, the woman who married his half-brother, Girsazh, who is a full decade older than him, motions to him to join them for supper before herself joining her husband who cooks beside the fire. Their small group, consisting of nearly two dozen, are headed toward Vetosk from the northernmost area of Skolna, near Ledan. They've left their home in search of a more prosperous future, as a particularly harsh winter had damaged the already meager harvest and killed many of their grazing animals, whom they depend upon for survival.

El's parents, his father in particular, were insistent that El join Girsazh and his wife, along with the others in the caravan, who are fleeing a neighboring tribe. Though he could never prove it El believed that his father, who sired him out of wedlock and was never particularly fond of him, did not wish the continued expense of housing him, as El had yet to take a wife and claim graze lands of his own. This is something of a rarity in their area as El is all of twenty-years-old. With nothing binding him to his home, not even family, he consigned himself to having others decide his fate and joined the caravan.

Day after day he was used for manual labor, digging out the wheels which routinely became embedded in the muck. He also helps care for the animals. Still, he'd spent that time slowly growing closer to Girsazh, though Karianna's teasing often annoys him. Pushing himself up and moving away from the wagon he was attempting to repair, El grabs his small satchel by the flap and heads toward the campfire. Just as he's about to ask Girsazh not to burn the meat again, he notices something strange.

"What's that noise?"

"What noise?" Karianna asks.

"I don't hear anything." Girsazh adds.

"It sounds like a mountain goat, but there shouldn't be any here..." El glances toward the nearby forest. "We're too far from the mountains and... It doesn't sound... Quite. Right..."

"Perhaps the little boy is hearing things?" A man in their group chuckles.

Disregarding the taunts of his peers and stepping toward the trees, El hears another call. A bird squawks, but it's deeper than any avian he's ever heard. Several more calls emit from the forest. Suddenly, and from the tops of the trees, Peryava leap from behind their concealment! They spread their arms as they burst forth from the pine branches, shrieking as they swoop in! Karianna and another woman scream. Girsazh grabs a sword and a compact, hand-held crossbow. He tosses the crossbow to El before collecting another.

The men ready for battle, firing a handful of bolts into the air. The beasts are swift and skillfully dodge the bolts. Their keen eyes focus on their prey. The soaring creatures swing around the group, disorienting the men, who whirl around as they look to the sky in an effort to keep track of their foes. Taking his compact crossbow, El takes a few steps back, until his back presses against the wheel of the wagon behind him. As the others try to reload their weapons, their swords remaining in their support hands, the Peryava attack.

One beast swoops in and grabs Karianna's head with its talons, which shred her flesh. Blood spews from her face and neck as she gurgles. Girsazh roars in anger and tries to shoot the offending creature, only for another to dive in. With bodies proportional to those of men, their wingspan would not be long enough for sustained flight, were it not for an extension that unfolds from their forearms. Using this extension, the beast flies behind Girsazh, only to pass him as the dense cartilage of the extension slams into the back of his neck.

It is a well-known and deadly attack. As the creature's wing extension folds back, the force of the blow snaps Girsazh's neck, dropping his lifeless body like a heavy stone. His corpse twitches only feet away from his wife, who's severe blood loss has already claimed her life. The others in their caravan scream and shout, some fighting and some running. None escape. Though briefly paralyzed with fear, El snaps out of it just as a creature shrieks. He looks above him to see a Peryava circling overhead!

With a terrified gulp he turns and runs, glancing over his shoulder multiple times to ensure that he will not have his neck broken by one of the creatures. He must make it to the trees, where a human's size and skill in combat will be superior to the Peryava's physiological abilities. Looking over his shoulder for perhaps the dozenth time causes his heart to sink. The shadowy creature swoops into view! Feeling the weapon in his hand, he turns around but continues his retreat, hopping backward as he takes aim with both hands.

Pulling the trigger, he fires the bolt just as the creature increases speed, pulling its arms back and flattening its long feathers! The bolt catches the creature by surprise and the beast banks, but not fast enough. Though its right arm is only grazed by the bolt, the beast falls onto its left arm, rolls and nearly snaps off their wing extensions! It tumbles with great speed before slamming against a thicket. Fearing another assault, El turns toward the forest and dashes as fast as he can, diving into bushes and hoping that none of the others have seen him.

Unlike the Vostii, Korutan and Sabaarii, the Peryava and another race capable of flight, the bat-like Uvanii, do not have vastly superior smell or hearing. Their flight is their power and their eyes are their strength, so if they do not see him, they will not know he is there. He does all that he can to control his trembling, to prevent the bushes from shaking. The time passes so slowly, almost as if it had stopped altogether. In his hideaway he listens to the carnage as the others in his caravan are slaughtered. A looming darkness eventually proves that the world is still turning.

Late in the evening, the flock of Peryava take flight, all except for one. Did they forget one of their own? Did he kill one?! Waiting for a moment, El silently debates whether or not to continue on the journey or return home with the news of the attack. It takes him some time before he even remembers his satchel. Checking his pouch, he finds that in his haste he hadn't buckled it; it'd opened and many of the contents have spilled out. One of the missing articles is a map, encased in an ornately carved wooden tube, and capped with bronze.

It was a gift from a kindly man in his village, and the map within was drawn by El, to mark his path home. How will he find his way without it?! What will he do?! He is not a skilled hunter or tracker, nor can he remember all of the twists and turns they've taken in the past three weeks of travel! Gripped by the fear of the unknown, El shakily rises to his feet. Stepping out of the bushes, he makes his way toward the caravan only to smell the stench of blood and viscera. He winces and crinkles his nose, turning away from the putrid odor.

Creeping toward the stench and peeking around the nearest wagon, he's left horrified. His group have been ripped to shreds! Personal artifacts are scattered everywhere, and nearly all of their food and water is missing. Despite their appearance and inferior intelligence, the Peryava are not true beasts, like those who walk on all fours, the wolves or the quill-bears or the smaller birds of prey. They feed on meat and berries but not human flesh; the carnage merely facilitated a robbery and the creatures were very thorough. After a search of everywhere he had stepped, El cannot find the map tube, nor does he find much food or water.

About all he finds of value is a satchel half buried in the mud, overlooked by the thieves. What a stroke of luck! Inside it are copper and silver coins in two sizes, with hexagonal holes in the center for stacking on a bank skewer. These are zakians, the universal currency of mankind. Among the coins are two emerald colored sen'kamen, the gemstone glass made by the Hitrosii, the reclusive elves of Chumar. It's a hefty sum of currency, especially for a man of his youth and skillset. It was the life savings of everyone in the caravan.

He also finds more bolts, a broken compact crossbow which could be used for spare parts, string wax and a short sword, still sheathed and lying beneath a mutilated corpse. Everything else has been taken. As he sits beside the embers of the long dead fire, he feels his stomach aching. He hadn't eaten in the morning. A part of him feels shame. How can he think of food when the bodies of the dead lie strewn about?! Something quickly distracts him, however. A faint groaning comes from behind him!

Leaping to his feet and whirling around, he aims his compact, hand-held crossbow in the direction of the noise. Making his way around the wagon, he looks toward the distant bushes, toward the felled Peryava. It's shifting! It's not dead! With a bit of daylight left, he races toward the creature, a rage building within him. He jumps past its hideously sharp talons and steps on an arm, just as it tries to lift itself up. Startled, the creature jolts and then freezes. He takes aim, his finger caressing the trigger. The beast shifts, its body twisting as turns its head to look up at him.

El's heart sinks and he gulps to push down the knot in his throat, stepping back and taking his foot from the creature's arm. It's a female and she looks young! Her slender, supple body is covered in black fuzz, with feathers protruding in all the usual places. Her visible flesh is a pale blue, like a clear sky, as is some of the fuzz which forms a unique pattern that frames her body in segments. A pair of modest but perky breasts are right where they would be on a human female and are also covered in soft but exceedingly short, black fuzz. Her yellow-topaz eyes look to him with fear as she tries to back away, her crimson blood staining the glossy black feathers of her right arm which he'd grazed with a bolt.

Though she'd tried to harm him and failed, she looks so pitiful. At this moment, she's less than harmless. El cannot help himself and lowers his weapon, his finger pulling away from the trigger. The toes of her feet twitch as she abruptly pulls in a leg. Is she readying to strike?! He takes aim once more but she winces, turns her head and brings up an arm to shield herself. He realizes now that her motion was likely reflex, adjusting to the shifting brush as he backed away. She feebly tries to move further into the brush. He lowers his weapon for a second time, and with a softness in his voice he calls out to her.

"Hello. I'm not going to hurt you..." He begins, removing the bolt from his crossbow, to her shock. "Are you alright? You look hurt."

He stops for a moment and closes his eyes, silently berating himself for his foolishness. Why would he speak to her? It's well-known that the Peryava and their cousins, the Uvanii, cannot speak. After releasing the tension on the crossbow's string and hooking the handle to the special hangar on his belt, he drops to a knee and extends a hand. She may not comprehend him, but perhaps a soft voice will comfort her?

"I won't hurt you. Please. Let me help you out of there."

She looks between his weapon, his hand and then herself. After a moment of hesitation, she sheepishly extends a hand. Grabbing hold of her, he's careful not to pull or squeeze her too tightly, lest he frighten her. Her fuzz is so soft and her hand so warm! He's thankful that she doesn't gouge him with her menacing, golden claws. Once she's free of the brush, he attempts to check her for wounds. The female steps back, unnerved by his eyes scanning her unclothed form. Seeing her graze, he takes a cloth that'd been left in the ransacked camp. She takes a step back as he tears off a strip.

"No, no! It's okay! This..." He lifts up the cloth. "For your wound." He then motions toward the cut on her arm, as if wrapping it.

Following his motions, she seems to understand. Regardless, she shivers like a leaf in a strong breeze as she extends her arm. Her feathers fold back, running along her arm and giving it a rather bulky but very human appearance.

"There, there..." He coos, gently bandaging her wound. "It's alright. Hopefully, the bleeding will stop soon."

Unable to resist, he gently pokes the wing extension which rests against the back of her forearm and gives it a very sturdy appearance. She jolts but does not pull away, and he realizes that it may be in pain. He turns to her and apologizes, always keeping a soft and gentle tone to his voice. Using a bit of balm in a jar in his satchel he carefully rubs it onto a sore spot where fuzz and a few feathers have been rubbed off during her fall. He applies a portion to the bulky joint as well, and the female's trembling slowly subsides.

Once he's finished, he takes a step back and smiles. She cocks her head and examines his form, curious about the young adult human who treats her with such kindness. What does this male want from her? As she moves her breasts behave as one would expect, drawing his attention. His cheeks redden and his eyes grow wide, only for him to bow his head before turning it away. After glimpsing her womanhood which is barely hidden behind waist-feathers and a patch of soft, black fuzz, he turns his whole body.

"Yes, you are a female... Ahem... I don't suppose you know what clothes are, do you?" He asks, glancing back.

Again, she cocks her head, her eyes scanning her own body. Why does he shy away when he sees her form? Does this human desire her?! Do his urges fill him with shame?!

"No, I don't suppose you do..." He sighs. "Why am I even talking? ... The sound of my own voice was rarely such a comfort before, but now..."

His stomach grumbles quite loudly and so he looks to the female, wondering if she'd heard it. At first, she raises a brow, only for the other to follow and her eyes to widen when her own stomach also grumbles. She places a clawed hand on her flat belly as she looks down at it, and he cannot help but chuckle. His amusement, however, swiftly fades. Perhaps that is a reason for the attack? Are her people starving? Has the winter been harsh for them as well? After a brief and awkward silence, he motions to her. Heading for the wagon, he stops in his tracks, unwilling to gaze upon the corpses again.

Instead of returning to the campfire, he moves away from the wagon, using it to shield him from the carnage. Walking some distance away, he builds a smaller camp and starts a new fire, all as the female stands by the trees and watches him work. He looks to her and they share a stare. He did not intend to intimidate her into staying, nor did he mean for her to follow; the stare was more out of fear of what he might witness, and a desire to know that he was not alone. At this point, any bit of comfort helps.

Moving away from her, he returns to the ransacked camp, holding his breath as the flies already begin to buzz around those whom he'd spent nearly a month traveling beside. Girsazh and Karianna bother him the most, something he did not expect as he didn't particularly enjoy their company when they were alive. Unwilling to risk the energy burying them, he instead blows the embers into a flame, piles dry leaves upon old logs, and then begins dragging the bodies into it. Better this than to leave them for the insects and scavengers.

A more thorough search of the camp and the wagons, which had been thoroughly looted, reveals only a small portion of food and a little more medicine, which he'd overlooked, though it's nothing particularly strong. He'd left the female alone for quite some time. Is she even still there? Returning to the smaller campsite beyond the last wagon, he's both surprised and pleased to see her sitting beside the fire, leaning against a nearby tree and attempting to stretch her wounded arms. His smile fades when he sees the distinct wince of pain in her eyes.

She looks to him as he approaches, bowing her head in what could be fear or perhaps reverence. He isn't sure which. Her eyes widen when he presents her with a simple meal of salted meat, which he offers to cook over the fire. She doesn't move or even make a sound, seemingly content to watch and wait. Once the meat is thoroughly cooked, he presents it to her on a tin plate, leaving it by her feet. She stares at it for a moment, only to turn to him as he cuts into his own portions. Seeing him eating from the same cut eases her mind.

He pauses as the sight of her using the sharp edges of her angular beak to cut the meat and swallow whole chunks. For a creature a head shorter than him and likely a third of his weight, she eats like a horse! Once they've finished their meal, they sit in silence by the fire, and the gravity of all that'd happened begins to truly sink in. Fear takes hold. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the future. What is to come when the sun rises? Will he even live to see it? He turns toward his companion and stares.

El is alone, lost in the wilderness with a creature that had tried to kill him! His father will be crushed to learn that Girsazh and his beloved Karianna are dead. The entire convoy was ransacked and he is now the sole survivor. Will they call him a coward for running? How could they?! He's not a soldier! He was just a shepherd and an apprentice carpenter. How could they not blame him?! He ran! What if this creature decides to find her people? What if she leaves during the night? What if she fears he will stop her and kills him in his sleep?!

A seething anger builds. It's not the anger of loss or of humiliation, but the anger of being forced into such a horrible predicament. Still, there's nothing else for him; nowhere to go and nothing to be, except a pariah. Is it worth going home? He ponders his options for what feels like an eternity, only to come to the painful conclusion that being hated in a familiar place is better than being welcomed in the unknown. He must track down her tribe and retrieve his stolen map, potentially killing them if necessary.

"I wonder..." He suddenly begins, a deep pain in his voice.

She turns her head and stares.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to me? What I will likely have to do? ... Damn you for this... Damn you..."

Part Two: The Journey

After striking camp, El looks toward the horizon. He'd seen the direction of where the other Peryava had flown. Though not a terribly skilled tracker, he knows enough to get by, and should they be weary from battle or hunger they may not have even flown very far. Perhaps he can follow? If nothing else, he could find a village and possibly trade for a new map, one that will lead him home. That, at the very least, would prevent him from having to hunt her people. He begins his march only to stop in his tracks. Looking back, he stares in silence at the female.

A dainty hand clutches her bandage, and with head bowed and eyes upturned, she stares right back at him. She looks so timid, standing all alone, wearing only her fuzz and feathers. Even her sharp beak and talons no longer seem all that menacing. Why does she stand there? Is she afraid to follow? Is she unable to fly? Is her pain too great? As he examines her timid form, he cannot help but wonder; why didn't she harm him during the night? It doesn't really matter. With a frustrated sigh, he motions with a hand, allowing and perhaps even urging her to follow him. Lifting her head up high, she does just that.

The Peryava dashes to catch up to the human. Her spindly legs, like a chicken's, kick up dust and grass in a most amusing fashion. Only her obviously feminine form distracts him, making him increasingly uncomfortable. Returning his focus to the vast fields of grass that lie before him, he marches on. It's a long walk, and he eventually grows tired. Stopping to rest his weary feet, he pants and wipes the sweat from his brow.

"Girsazh was right... I should've walked with him instead of riding in the wagons... My legs aren't used to this! ... How are you fairing?" He asks, turning back to his companion.

She cocks her head and examines his lips, but doesn't make a sound.

"Good!" He chuckles, returning his focus onto the field. "I've kept the sun to my right shoulder, so we should be heading in a straight line... I think... Perhaps we will find a river soon? We need the water."

After inhaling the air, he pauses. With his cheeks reddening, he lifts an arm and smells himself.

"Oh... And I could use a wash..."

A full day of travel ends with the pair being forced to camp in the wilderness again, beside a patch of dead trees. As they eat a much smaller meal, El wishes he had learned how to trap and hunt when Girsazh had offered. He likely would've accepted, but the taunts of being a weakling and the casual use of the word "bastard" did not make him jump at the opportunity, despite the skills he might've learned. Now, however, he yearns for a chance to go back and do things differently. Why does he suddenly miss the boisterous and somewhat bossy Girsazh? Why does he long to be teased by his wife?

Feeling a chill, El wraps his arms around himself and shivers. Looking toward his companion, she does something similar, only to wince when her hand touches that bandage. He looks closer at the torn cloth. It's darker than it was before. He tosses a log into the fire, allowing it to grow, and scoots around the flames. Seeing him approach, the female shifts, turning to face him and leaning backward. Her hands brace herself as though she were preparing to jump up and flee.

"It's alright. May I check your wound?" He asks, making obvious pantomimes to help her understand.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she sheepishly extends her right arm. Slowly removing the bandage, he winces at the sight. Her flesh is tender, puffy and he can see a small amount of puss. It's becoming infected. Without medical treatment, a blood infection may easily kill her. Tearing another strip of cloth, he gives her a new bandage and much more balm for the pain. She appears grateful, but remains apprehensive.

"I wish there was more I could do for you." He sighs, tying the bandage somewhat loosely. "I wish it wasn't only my voice I was listening too... I'm becoming rather sick of myself."

Sitting beside his companion, she shivers from a gust and, as if on impulse, scoots closer. Her arm brushes against his, and his back straightens. Realizing what she's doing, the Peryava immediately moves away, her brow furled and her eyes scanning him suspiciously. Meanwhile, El does the same. The subtle jiggling of her breasts, however, once again draws his eyes, only to further embarrass him.

"I'm sorry! I don't know what I! ... That's not true... I do know why I gaze, but I cannot help it! ... Perhaps if... Oh! Why didn't I think of this before?!" His eyes light up.

Taking his wool blanket and a small knife, the female slithers away from him. He extends a hand and speaks softly, trying to calm her. Setting the blanket down, he works by guestimation, cutting the blanket and shaping it, turning it into a vest. He presents her with the garment, and her eyes grow wide with shock. If he didn't know better, he'd say that she appeared humbled and perhaps even honored to receive the gift. Trying it on, it doesn't slip over her feathers very well, even when folded. A bit more shaping solves this issue.

He closes her new garment over her chest and uses three small sticks on short strings to act as buckles, which he pushes through cuts made in the front. Not only does it give her added warmth but it shields her breasts and even reaches down to hide her womanhood. No more will he embarrass himself by accidentally examining her femininity! With a proud grin, he leans back and admires his handiwork. It almost appears to be tailor-made, albeit somewhat primitive.

"Look at that! I should've been a tailor! Why didn't I do that sooner?!" He remarks to himself.

With another gust of wind, the chill reaches his very bones. He reaches for his blanket, only to grab a handful of grass.

"Oh, right... That's why..." He sighs.

Having destroyed his blanket for her benefit, El breaks a few more branches and lies beside the fire, hoping it will suffice. Meanwhile, his companion is noticeably more comfortable.

"You're welcome..." He grumbles.

The following day, after eating a breakfast of the last of their berries and salted meat, El notices that his companion winces in pain. Though he wants to check her bandage, he discovers he is out of pain-relieving balm, the remainder having solidified in the jar. The other medicines he has would not do anything for her infection. Rather than horrify himself, he chooses to ignore it and the pair press on. Hours of walking leads them toward another forest, but emerging from the forest is what appears to be a hunting trail.

Looking toward the horizon, his companion notices something. She taps his shoulder and then points. Following her finger, he squints his eyes. In the distance, many miles away, he can see smoke rising. It's very far, but somewhere within the forest is a dwelling. With nothing else to go on, the pair continue into the dense forest. They follow the trail, harvesting some berries and edible mushrooms along the way. Finding a stream, they know that they're on the right track.

Continuing along the trail eventually leads them to a modest village, with more than a dozen homes of stone and logs. His companion stops, and though initially confused, he quickly recognizes the fear in her eyes. She looks to herself, then to him. Her message is clear. She knows what she is and worries about receiving a chilly reception. Her pitiful eyes tug at his heartstrings. With a little smile on his face, El extends a hand.

"It'll be okay. I'll protect you." He says, patting his compact crossbow with the other hand.

Though initially skeptical, she approaches when he arms and loads the weapon. For a moment he wonders if she thinks he was threatening her. Holding her hand very gingerly, he keeps her close. As they enter the village, El realizes how right she was. People turn and stare, ignoring him completely and focusing on the bird woman who walks beside him. Some narrow their eyes while others are flabbergasted to see one so close. Is it because she isn't hostile or because she's wearing clothes? In any case, his attempts to gain information first require him to snap the other person out of their trance.

"We're lost and in need of supplies. Food, drink, possibly a map of the surrounding area." He begins.

Feeling a squeeze, he looks down at his hand before glancing back at his companion. She steps even closer, her arm against his as she looks around at the small crowd of gawking townsfolk. She did not squeeze him to gain his attention, but for her own comfort. Her softened brow and subtle wince show her unease, despite her emotionless beak. Turning his body, he eases her into his chest. Her head, which barely reaches the top of his shoulders, presses against him. He can feel her trembling. She lifts an arm, pulling it closer to her chest, and he glimpses her bandage.

"Oh, and also medicine!" He adds.

"This is a small village, mister, and the shops we have are small. Food and stiff drink can be bought there, at our inn..." The villager begins, turning and pointing to a nondescript building. "I don't know where you can find any maps, but our best hunters are the Diksen brothers. They might be able to show you the way to wherever it is you're going. Our apothecary lives there..."

"Thank you."

"We don't have many visitors. What are you doing out here, and with one of the Peryava?" The villager asks.

"As I've said, we're lost. We lost our way after-... Never mind. Where was that apothecary again?" El tries to change the subject.

"The last house. Walk down that path, make a right and it's the last house. She has a large sign with a mortar and pestle beside the door. She lives there, though, so knock first!"

"Alright."

"Wherever you were headed, it must be pretty nice for you to afford a rare Peryava slave!" The villager comments.

"Huh?" El furls his brow in confusion.

"I've never seen one up close, before!" A woman remarks in awe.

"Does she bite?!" A young child wonders.

"Her feathers are shiny!"

"I've never met a man who owned a Peryava."

As the villagers speak, El finally remembers. He had spent his entire life living in the Skolna region of Morveria, and of the four kingdoms that divide that land, all of them allow slavery of the beast folk, in spite of The Order of The One trying to ban it. Living day-to-day for as long as he can remember, neither El nor anyone he knew in his village had the wealth required to purchase and care for any slaves. The fact that these people, who live in a village considerably nicer than his own, consider him a man of standing is quite flattering.

Seeing the fear in his companion, who shies away from the small crowd, he decides to use this to his advantage. Clearing his throat as he steps forward, he places himself between the crowd and the bird woman. With one hand holding tightly to hers, he raises the other.

"Please, give her space! My slave and I have had a long journey, and we barely survived an attack by a gang of bandits!" He begins.

The crowd gasp and whisper amongst each other.

"She saved my life and was wounded in the process, and now she is understandably skittish!" He continues. "We just need some supplies and information, and then we'll be on our way! ... Come."

He gives her hand a gentle but demanding tug, instantly gaining her attention. She furls her brow and narrows her eyes. Is she mistrustful or simply offended that he would make such bold demands of her? Does she even understand what he's just said? With another pull, her brow softens, and after looking back at the crowd, she steps closer. Her spindly legs and bird-like feet shuffle behind him as he leads her. From the way that she clings to him, she appears to be adapting to her new role as 'slave' remarkably well, whether she realizes it or not.

Stopping at the inn, El purchases a sizeable quantity of salted meat, fresh bread, hardtack and ale. The coins he'd collected from the ransacked caravan made for a sizeable portion of his village's wealth; he spends a quarter of it on supplies, which fills a heavy sack he must now wear on his back. The Diksen brothers are drinking at the inn when he arrives, and curious about the seemingly wealthy traveler, they make their presence felt. Upon hearing of his plight, they offer their knowledge in exchange for several rounds of drinks.

Unfortunately for El and his companion, they have no maps, nor have they the wherewithal to draw them, especially after consuming so many mugs of ale. However, they know enough to tell him where not to go. If he continues through the town, he'll pass through the other end of the forest and find himself in another field. This is when the Diksen brothers reveal something useful. A flock of Peryava had been seen, flying in a particular direction and after bypassing the forest. The village was built here to avoid the birds of prey, who prefer open ground for their attacks.

According to the villagers, they've been hunting settlers in the area for years. By chance, the flock's flightpath is in the general direction of a much larger town. With the knowledge he needs and the supplies to support them for a time, El decides to make haste. He can see that with every minute they spend there, his companion becomes increasingly unnerved and downright terrified. It's possible that, belonging to an untamed tribe of beast folk, especially a race so primitive, that she has never been in a village before, let alone heard the voices of so many humans.

There's only one thing left to do. Continuing through the village, he stops to visit the apothecary. Knocking is met with a feeble voice allowing him entrance. Upon setting foot inside the rickety old home, he's met with a startling sight. A woman as old as he's ever seen sits in a rocking chair beside a table. Atop the table is a skull, the cap removed and used as a planter for deadly nightshade. With a glossy black berry clutched between her bony fingers, the decrepit hag of a woman, her few strands of hair as white as snow, looks to him with milky eyes. Can she see him through those cataracts?!

"Well? What do you and your pet require?" She asks in a raspy voice with an impatient tone.

"My, uhm..." He pauses upon looking at the Peryava. "She has an infection in her wound, and other minor injuries that I believe still cause her pain. Do you have medicines to heal her?"

"Bring the little bird over here, where I can see her." She replies, before popping the toxic berry into her mouth.

El obeys the frightening elder, whose very presence greatly unsettles his companion. She shivers as she stands before the old woman, who cackles like a witch. The sound of shifting feathers fills El with guilt. Suddenly, the old hag takes out a handful of powder from a cloth sack near her table and blows it in the bird girl's face. Her body relaxes, her eyes narrow, and she sways as she stands. Fearful that she may hurt herself in a fall, El quickly steps closer and places his hands on her sides, near her waist. She looks back at him and chirps, her head then plopping against his chest.

"What did you do to her?!"

"I need to examine her, and she'd never allow it, as nervous as she was. This will help her relax." The witch replies.

"Are you sure it won't harm her?" El asks.

"Nonsense! In fact, I often use it myself, whenever I could use a little 'holiday', if you understand my meaning."

"Not really..."

Rolling her milky eyes, the old hag scoops a tiny bit of the off-white powder into a long fingernail, only to inhale it through a nostril. With a little shiver, she rises swiftly from her chair as if she were a young woman. The witch's body creaks, sending a chill up El's spine. Opening up his companion's wool vest, the witch examines the Peryava's body, placing her frail looking hands on her sides before gliding them up and over her breasts.

"Young. Supple. Healthy." The witch remarks, giving her breasts a squeeze. "These could be bigger though."

"Her body is not injured..." A bashful El remarks, glancing away.

"I know! Just making an observation!" The witch chuckles. "Let's see... Hmm..."

Examining her arms, the old hag instructs El to hold them out for her. She's quite spry for a woman who appears to be over one-hundred years old! Perhaps her vigor was enhanced by whatever it was she'd just snorted? Grabbing onto her wing extensions, she unfolds them slowly and carefully, making mental observations as she feels the joints. Removing the bandage, she smirks, then pokes a pointy nail into the puss, only to bring it close to her face. She waves it beneath her nose, before her wrinkled and withered lips.

"No, I'm not going to taste it." She suddenly remarks.

"Huh?!"

How did she know what he was thinking?!

"You're very easy to read, boy." The old woman replies, before reaching out and wiping the puss onto El's tunic.

"Ew... Uhm... So, can you help her or not?" He asks, his lips twisted with disgust at the gob of puss on his clothing.

"Of course I can!" She chirps, patting his tunic and wiping it in.

"Ugh... I mean, 'okay'. How much will it cost?"

"From the looks of that coin purse, I believe you have two sen'kamen in there... Green ones, from the sound. I'll take one!"

El is flabbergasted. Though the least valuable of the sen'kamen, the precious gemstone glass was invented by the Hitrosii, the reclusive elves of Chumar. Their production is costly and difficult for all but large kingdoms to manage, with whom the elves have only recently begun to trade with, after millennia of staunch isolationism. Their unique traits make sen'kamen an ideal currency for trade in high-value goods, and a single emerald sen'kamen is worth approximately four small silver zakians, or two large silver zakians.

He knows from books and what he was told by a well-traveled member of his village that this is enough to buy several slaves of acceptable quality. A high-quality and virginal beast woman, one specifically bred and trained in the consort schools to serve as a concubine for the wealthy and powerful, might cost as much as a crimson sen'kamen. That is equal in value to two large golden zakians! It took months for the members of his caravan, the impoverished herdsmen that they are, to save what to many is a meager sum. It was to be used for supplies, and meant to last the entirety of their journey.

"It may seem like a lot, but when you witness my remedies, you will know where the money went!" The witch continues.

Looking toward his companion, El stops to wonder if it's even worth it. After all, he hardly knows this Peryava, and she did try to kill him only two days earlier. However, he is far from home, and the thought of making the journey alone fills him with dread. Furthermore, she is as alone as he. Looking into her glossy, half-baked eyes, he can see a touch of fear. What kind of man would that make him, if he abandoned her to die of infection just to spare the currency? A true bastard! He gulps, torn between logic and emotion.

"Alright..." He begins with a soft sigh. "Take it."

"My pleasure!"

Leaning in close, the old hag opens the coin purse on his belt and removes a single emerald colored sen'kamen. She clutches the vibrant one-inch by one-inch by three-quarter-inch cuboid, the radiant gem glowing faintly in her aged palm.

"Ah, yes... There you are, my pretty." The woman coos, nearly salivating at the sight.

"Did you really know it was green by the sound or do you have some form of otherworldly knowledge?" He cannot help but ask.

"All these years, I've learned a thing or two about currency, and the people who carry it. I heard faint clicks, so I knew there wasn't much, and from your clothes I knew you couldn't possibly have anything more valuable than green or teal sen'kamen. Are you such a fool as to believe in magic?!" She cackles.

"I suppose not..." His face flushes as he turns his eyes away.

Taking the elven gem, she tests it for authenticity, banging a corner against a stone countertop. Though they look and feel like glass, they are impervious to damage and heat. A dent in the stone countertop but an undamaged sen'kamen proves their worth. After pocketing the gem, the witch collects a powder, first placing a dab on the puss she'd smeared on his tunic. It becomes crusty and falls away, leaving the garment clean. She then does the same for his companion's wound, chipping away the pussy to reveal raw, clean flesh beneath.

El tries not to vomit as the old hag squeezes out more, ensuring that the wound is not festering before she continues. With a strange, bluish-purple ointment, she smears it over and into the wound, then covers it with a new bandage.

"There. By this time tomorrow, her body will be rejuvenated. Her wound will heal quickly, but until the skin closes, it will need to be washed daily with clean water, to prevent further infection."

"Thank you."

Continuing her work, the old hag uses another ointment on her wing extensions and their joints, then applies a balm to the small patches of skin where the fuzz and feathers had been rubbed away.

"Here... For being a good sport, and doubling my wealth."

The witch abruptly ties a hide pouch to his belt, directly beside his coin purse. It doesn't feel heavy, but something inside fills the pouch.

"What is it?"

"A few caps of neberum."

El's face flushes. The easily grown mushroom and its unique properties as a contraceptive are well-known, as they have been for thousands of years.

"I-I'm not sure that will be-"

"Nonsense!" She cuts him off. "With breasts so perfect and perky, you will touch them, and she will enjoy it. We both know what will happen afterward." She pokes his side with a bony elbow.

"Oh my..." El clears his throat and looks away.

"Don't be such a virgin! She likes you. I can tell from the way she leans against you!"

"I think that's because of whatever it was you blew in her face." El retorts, glancing down at the nearly unconscious bird girl.

"Children..." The witch rolls her eyes, moving slowly toward her rocking chair. "Well?" She asks, leaning back and relaxing. "There's the door..."

"Thank you."

"Meh..."

Collecting an old book, the hag of a woman begins to read. After an awkward pause as he decides how to carry her, El finally scoops the Peryava into his arms. He's forced to use a foot to pull the door open, only for it to slam behind him as soon as he steps outside. The startled young man jolts, nearly dropping his companion. Did the old woman move from her chair that fast?! Peeking through a grimy window, the old woman continues to sit and read. Without looking, she plucks another black berry from her nightshade plant and eats it, then turns a page.

"Must've been a gust... Yes! A gust is what that was! Ahem... Ready to travel?"

He looks to the bird girl, whom he cradles in his arms. She's unresponsive.

"Right... Well, at least you aren't heavy!" He exclaims, trying to stay positive.

After leaving the town and marching along the trail for an hour, the sweat beads on his brow.

"I think, hhff, I spoke, hhff, too soon!" He huffs and puffs, his muscles burning from the strain. "Please wake up!"

Slowly opening her eyes, El's companion finds herself lying atop a bed of grass. Bolting upright, she looks around for the human, who has been remarkably kind to her. Her racing heart slows as soon as she sees him, undressed and washing with a cloth beside a stream. As she examines her surroundings, it seems that he's carried her all the way through the forest, to the fields on the other side. The sun has begun to set, and the human has constructed a small camp. Beside her, a little pot cooks a chunk of salted meat.

"Finally! I thought you'd never wake up!" He chirps, returning to camp and slipping on his tunic. "Had I known you would sleep for so long, I would have rented a room and drank ale with the Diksen brothers... Although, had I done that, we would likely be poor." He laughs.

Sitting across from her, she looks at her bandage and pantomimes. It takes him a moment to grasp her meaning, but she's thankful he's not dense.

"Yes, I used water to wash your wound, and you're welcome. The skin is already nearly healed! That old woman certainly knows what she's doing... Here. You should eat."

After a surprisingly tasty meal, El lies back and stares at the fire. He'd made their camp close to the forest, in case they needed to flee from another Peryava attack. With his compact crossbow nearby, he stares at her for a moment. She cocks her head, her eyes scanning him, as though she were trying to understand his motivations.

"I just realized something..." He begins.

She cocks her head in the other direction.

"All this time traveling together and we've never been properly introduced. I'm 'Elahazhu'..." He says, placing a hand on his chest. "Elahazhu... Or just 'El'! I like 'El' much better. It doesn't sound so ancient. Haha!"

She merely stares, and realizing the futility of his efforts, he sighs and rolls over. He soon drifts off to sleep, and she finds herself inching closer. With the sounds of the forest and the animals of the night creeping about, she slithers toward him, only to stop and sit on her legs. Shaking her head, she then crawls back toward the place he'd made for her, only for a snapping branch to startle her. Scurrying around the fire, she pushes in two more logs to build it up, then sits with her buttocks and tail feathers pressed against the small of his back.

Feeling a shaking, El groans as he's roused from a dream. The sound of a crackling log becomes clearer and he's rolled onto his back. Dainty hands clutch his shoulders, rocking him. Opening his eyes proves to be a struggle. As his vision returns, he sees a figure looming over him, only for the vague outline of a beak to turn. Looking toward his waist, the blurry figure backs away.

"Huh? Wha-... What is it?" He asks, his voice raspy as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

He pushes himself upright with his elbows, trying to wake up. As he sits up, his eyes shoot open. Though he hardly remembers his dream, it must've been quite lovely. His penis is fully erect and has pushed through the opening at the front of his trousers, bursting a button. It's fully exposed to his companion, her wide eyes staring intently as she slowly reaches out and pokes the stiff manhood with a dainty finger. She's careful not to scratch him with a claw, and with a soft cooing, she drags her fingertip along the length of his shaft. With his face as red as fresh berries, he pulls his tunic over his genitals and rolls away from her.

"What?! What is it?!" He asks, panic in his voice.

Blinking and shaking her head, as if to snap herself out of a trance, the bird girl turns and points. Looking toward the woods, El can hear a low growling. He rolls onto his hands and knees and crawls toward his weapon, using a hand to push his erection back into the confines of his pants, only to then grab his compact crossbow and prepare it for use. By the time he looks back, a pair of glowing yellow eyes stare at them from the darkness. A quill-bear?! Jumping to his feet, El takes aim. More eyes begin to glow, and his heart sinks. As if to rebuff his threat, a massive dire wolf emerges, it's four paws nearly thrice the size of his fists.

"Oh... My, what big eye you have." He remarks.

Two more wolves follow it. Though smaller in size, they are equally imposing.

"What a lovely pack... You have... ... Oh, my..."

El gulps. The wild beasts, vicious and hungry, glare at him and his companion, who quickly joins him. To his surprise, she presents him with his short sword, which he'd foolishly removed for his comfort. He grabs the weapon, the leaf shaped blade gleaming in the amber light of the fire. It seems that his companion had sensed the wolves' presence and added more logs to the fire, hoping to keep them at bay. The wolves, however, appear quite hungry. They move toward the sack that contains their food, growling at the pair.

El is faced with a difficult decision. Will he back away slowly and allow the wolves to feast on their only food, leaving them with little currency and no supplies on a journey that will take many days? Realizing that there is little choice, he turns to his companion and then pantomimes with his eyes, looking toward the sky. Before she can comprehend him, he turns to the largest wolf, the alpha of the pack, and fires. The snap of the bolt causes her to jump, and the wolves begin their assault.

The bolt flies through the air and embeds itself near the creature's left shoulder, just missing the mark! Hopping backward, he first tries to reload the compact, hand-held crossbow, only to drop it in the dirt when the wolves charge around the fire and then directly at him. Holding his sword out in front of him, a wolf leaps in an obvious attempt to bite his legs. He swings and the blade hums, banging against the skull of the dire wolf. It whimpers and retreats, blood pouring from the wound.

His companion runs and jumps, spreading her feathers and attempting to take flight. Her glide is cut short, however. The vest that El had fashioned for her blocks many of her feathers and she cannot fly! In a panic, she stumbles as she lands on her bird-like feet. She dives to the side, avoiding a wolf's attack just in time. As it slides along the ground and turns to charge at her, she manages to remove the small sticks, pushing them through the slits that hold her vest closed.

Tossing her garment to the ground, she runs and jumps, lifting off just as the wolf tries to bite one of her ankles. Soaring over the melee, she watches as the wolf briefly glares at her, only to turn and charge at her companion instead. El swings his sword and misses, whirling around and nearly falling to the ground. Just as he regains balance, leaning far forward, the wolf he'd injured leaps into the air and tries to bite his throat! Raising his sword, he impales the heavy beast, which whimpers like an oversized dog.

Falling to the ground with a hard thud, he barely has time to process what he's just done. Teeth dig into a boot, the jaws of the alpha male crushing his foot. He tries to retrieve his sword but it's thoroughly stuck inside of the first wolf! The alpha snarls, spreading its paws apart and tugging at his foot as it swings its head violently from side to side. Just as it pulls him from beneath the carcass of a pack member, the other wolf charges him. El frantically tries to retrieve his short sword, before they can tear him to pieces.

Swooping in from below, the Peryava pulls her legs forward and tries to grab the charging wolf by the scruff of its neck, only to miss. Instead, her talons curl around the beast's head, shredding an ear and causing it to yelp in pain. The failed attack startles her and she nearly falls from the sky. In that moment, El is fairly certain why he survived their initial encounter; his companion is not a skilled or competent fighter. Had she been better, she'd have probably killed him. Unfortunately, this makes their ordeal far more dangerous than he'd hoped.

Still snarling and tugging and shaking its head, the alpha wolf pulls El closer before letting go and jumping at his throat. Pulling his sword from the carcass just in time, he twists his upper body and swings with all of his might, cleaving off an ear as well as a sizeable chunk of the wolf's scalp. It yelps, jumps back and runs around, only to turn and face him. Is an eye missing or is it covered by blood? Undeterred, it charges yet again. Thinking fast, El blocks it with his sword, pressing the width of the blade into its gaping maw as it tries to bite his face!

It takes him a moment to realize his good fortune, and after a few seconds of struggle, he turns the sword and pulls, nearly severing the wolf's bottom jaw. It makes the most blood curdling sound he's ever heard as it dashes away. In an effort to put it out of its misery, he brings the sword down onto the back of its neck. Guilt sinks in, as he realizes that there was a chance they would've eaten their food and left them alone. Unfortunately, survival is rarely pretty, and hardly fair. He did what he had to do for their sake, despite how gruesome it was.

Suddenly remembering the third wolf, El looks to and fro, only to see that his companion is still trying to defeat it. The wolf runs in terror, whimpering as she repeatedly tries to grab its neck. Her sharp talons rips chunks of flesh and fur out of its' back, shoulders and scalp, causing it great pain. Just as he retrieves his compact crossbow, she finally manages to land a killing blow, her claws grabbing hold of the wolf's neck and crushing its' spine. It drops to the ground and rolls under its own momentum, before lying still, blood pooling around it and staining the grass.

Landing a short distance away, the bird girl races toward him. With arms outstretched, she throws herself into El's chest, nearly knocking him over, only to give him a firm squeeze. She trembles, obviously shaken by the ordeal. Startled by her behavior even more than the attack, he drops his bloody sword and crossbow and wraps his arms around her. Her trembling slows, and after a moment of shushing and tender strokes, El feels her nuzzle him. Her grip loosens, but her beak strokes his chest and the nape of his neck. Her eyes turn up and gaze into his, and as if on impulse, he pets her head.

"See? It's alright." He speaks very softly, almost cooing. "We're safe now."

"K... Keket..." She suddenly speaks.

She can speak?! Is that a call of some sort?!

"Yii 'Keket'." She speaks in Hitrosii, the language adopted by the beast folk before the dawn of time.

The Peryava can talk?! How is this possible?!?! His heart drops and a knot forms in his throat as he's overcome by shock.

"Tii lezh'nosh yii. Yii pa'zhi."

Part Three: Discoveries

Standing beside the fire with the bird girl in his arms, El is speechless. He stares down at her, gazing into her soft, topaz eyes. She looks as shy and fearful as she was the moment when he spared her life. Is she afraid because she spoke in front of him? He had no idea that her race could talk, as he is unaware of it ever being documented before. As far as he knows, no human has ever heard her kind speak! A part of him cannot help but feel honored for both the rare opportunity, and to hear her expressing gratitude.

As a wistful young man, he'd often dreamt of a better life, of adventure. In order to escape the mundane existence of life in the village, he taught himself to read and write and examined every book he could, though they were few and far between. As a useful language, he also taught himself Hitrosii, the language of the elves, with aid from an old dictionary. He did this despite never seeing an elf and rarely encountering the beast folk, though he had the opportunity to practice with a small caravan, which had a handful of Vostii servants among them.

"Yii pa'zhi, Yasheriit..." Keket again speaks her thanks.

"Lu'sta, Keket." El finally replies.

Keket's eyes widen in shock. She had no idea he could understand her! She only spoke because a part of her was certain he would never comprehend. With a knot in her throat, she gulps and rests her head against his chest. She has broken a rule as old as time; her kind never communicates with the other races. What does this mean? Will this affect their relationship of convenience? Will her people disown her for violating the rule? Assuming they even find them, that is. She jolts as El places his chin atop her head, only to feel herself softening as he gives her another squeeze.

"Tii porod'avii?"

Hearing him ask if she was injured fills her with a startling warmth. Unable to respond in words, Keket shakes her head 'no'.

"Pa'zhi za ga'vrii naz'viiya. Keket pra'kazii naz'viiya." He adds.

Hearing his thanks, and that he thinks her name is pretty makes her face burn. Embarrassed, she buries her beak in his chest as she hides her eyes. He's taken aback by how shy and human her behavior is. Soon, he forgets about her race and only notices her warmth against him, her dainty body enveloped in his arms. As he rests his lips upon the crown of her head, feeling the fuzz and short feathers against his face, he suddenly becomes tense. Responding to her presence, his manhood swells, growing longer, thicker and very firm.

Opening her eyes, Keket sees the growing bulge, and though she feels nervous and uneasy, a part of her is more than a little curious. Reaching out a hand, she hesitates for only a moment before grabbing his bulge. Her slender fingers feel his stiffening penis hidden within his trousers, and as if acting on pure instinct, she squeezes and rubs him.

"Okay, that's my manhood!" He chokes out, pulling his arms away.

He takes a step back and she can see how red his face is. Is he also nervous?! As a male, she would assume that he has far more experience than her, but he acts so shy and perhaps even afraid. This is not behavior she is accustomed to. Curious to test her theory, she takes a step closer, a hand cupping one of her modest breasts and presenting it to him. His cheeks darken. She once again reaches for his manhood. As he is looking away, he does not realize it until she has grabbed his member and squeezed, only to then clear his throat and step aside.

"W-we should pack our things and prepare to leave! ... Mii'ya so'baht ahm'shii'vo il stahl'yat." He speaks in both languages, his nerves rattled.

With her brow furled in confusion, she can see that her human companion is uneasy by her advances. Sex is rarely such an issue for the beast folk, and certainly not for her people. Though a part of her wishes to press the issue, she needs him for survival, and to find her kin. Keket nods and collects her vest, slipping it back on and fastening the front. El gathers their things, stepping around the bodies of the wolves and trying his best not to look at them.

"Ela." Keket begins.

Before she can say another word, she notices how he stops in his tracks. From the look on his face and the way his muscles tense, it's clear to her that something is wrong.

"Tii horosh?" She asks if he's okay.

"Tii naz'viiya yii 'Ela'..." He murmurs.

"Zhe." She nods.

"Yii ra'vit'sa 'El'." He explains his preference.

"Prot'siya!" She apologizes, bowing her head.

"Ka'yiit?" He turns to her, wondering why she called out to him.

"Tii pozh'vuyal eto." She says, holding out his belt.

Moving quickly, he snatches the belt from her grasp, only for a pouch to fall off, the straps having unraveled. Before he can collect it, Keket grabs the pouch and the top opens. Inside, several dried caps of neberum make their presence known. It's an easily recognizable herb. The caps are a deep purple, with little veins of green throughout, while the fins and stem beneath the cap are as black as the night sky, and quite glossy, even when desiccated. Taking one from the pouch, she furls her brow and looks up at him. El's face flushes once again.

"Tii ku'pal neberum za so'vo zes yii?" She asks, wondering if he purchased the neberum to have sex with her.

El's heart races at her question. Does she not remember what happened at the witch's home?! He was certain she was conscious, as her eyes were open, more or less, and she regularly groaned throughout the visit. The fact that she believes he might've purchased it to have sex with her and not give her children proves otherwise. Though he wants to respond and imagines a perfect sentence, all he can do is stammer gibberish.

"Yii na'ko'da so'vo zes Yasheriit... Yii... Na'ko'da so'vo..." Keket adds.

Hearing Keket admit to her virginity makes El's body tremble. What's going on?! How did this happen?! Keket steps closer but struggles to keep her body from shaking. Why did she tell the strange human such personal information?! Perhaps that was too much? Will he wonder how a young adult such as herself is still virginal? Will he suspect the true nature of her flock?! Clearing his throat, El's eyes scan her form, as if out of curiosity. Something about it flatters the Peryava, and she feels her face flushing.

"Ches'da'vii?!" El finally asks, certain she is lying.

"Zhe... Yii na'ko'da so'vo na'ko ho'zhei'lahn..." She insists upon her virginity, and a desire to lose it. "Tii do'braht muzh'chia. Tii vo'ya ba'shai il pra'kazii plo'vai... Mii'ya so'vo?" She asks, presenting the neberum.

His cheeks flush. He cannot believe his ears! Not only does the bird girl insist upon being virginal, not only does she compliment the size and attractiveness of his penis, but now she wants to give him her virginity?! He doesn't even know her! For as shocked as he is, a part of him actively considers it, and that startles him more than anything. El finds himself afraid to act, and afraid not to. He tries to think of a way to avoid the situation without offend her, only to notice a dead dire wolf lying nearby.

"Sii'chas na horosh vei'ya. Mii'ya do'zhei stahl'yat. Mii'ya ga'vrii pezh." He says, offering to discuss the situation after they've fled to safety.

Realizing that he is right, Keket returns the neberum cap to the pouch and hands it over to him. With their gear and weapons collected, the pair walk into the night, as far away from their camp as possible. They routinely glance back at the fire, using it as a landmark until it inevitably burns out. By then, they are miles away. During their walk, El talks and shares. She first learns that her companion was often teased with her original choice of nickname, which he believes sounds insultingly feminine for a male.

She apologizes once again, but he continuously grants forgiveness. Something about this human is different than other males, and perhaps even special. His willingness to help her in spite of her actions, combined with his rather charming manner, makes it easy to warm up to him. Keket begins to share in kind, and also reveals many things, satiating El's curiosity. He learns that the Peryava and Uvanii are both capable of speech, but religiously avoid communicating with other races for their own safety; they will only speak to each other.

In addition to speech, many breeds of Peryava are capable of mimicking both animals and people, an ability they use to confuse their prey. El is quite surprised and returns the favor, sharing even more details about himself, far more than she was expecting. Keket learns that El is not a warrior but merely a simple herdsman. His caravan was a small group fleeing an impoverished village which had suffered a harsh winter. Starvation was a possibility. They were traveling East, toward a larger kingdom, in the hopes of finding better opportunities.

Keket cannot help but apologize, for aiding in the raid of his caravan and attempting to kill him. To her surprise, her companion is still forgiving and even jokes about the ordeal! He remarks how thankful he is that she was not a more skilled warrior, and how they could've done worse, like killing people more important to him. Though he means it all in jest, and laughs at his own joke, Keket appears ashamed. With her head bowed and a somber look in her eyes, she reveals the truth. She is also not a warrior. Her people acted out of desperation, and the raid on his caravan was a matter of convenience; wrong place and wrong time.

Her small flock are starving. Their homeland was destroyed in a forest fire, and they're now forced to roam, vagabonds of the sky. The attack on El's caravan was Keket's first raid, a position she was forced into after several males died in a previous assault against stronger prey. She further admits that it was her who mimicked the mountain goat, confusing El and drawing his attention. In her nervousness, she chose an animal inappropriate for the environment and a more experienced warrior intervened with a different call.

With a tear in her eye, she admits that her people rarely abandon their own; she was left behind because they must have seen her as a burden. With this final admission, she begins to weep, covering her face with her hands, her beak jutting from between them. Touched by her pain, El stops in his tracks and embraces her, allowing the dainty Peryava to cry into his chest. She apologizes over and over again, for being a burden, for costing him a hefty sum, and for not even being good enough to help him in combat against the dire wolves.

With each tearful word, his heart aches. Eventually, he can stand it no more and asks her to be quiet. With his hands on her cheeks, he makes her look into his eyes, only to speak three powerful words.

"Tii na gahz."

Why would he say such a thing?! How can she not be a burden?! Keket is flabbergasted as the kindly human wipes the tears from beneath her eyes, then leans in and rests his forehead against hers. The obvious display of affection makes her tremble. She wraps her arms around his torso and clings to him, both in thanks but also to calm her frazzled nerves.

"Tii uch do'braht muzh'chia." She whimpers a compliment.

"Yii tat'sii." He casually retorts.

Hearing her honor him is something he never imagined would happen when he lowered his crossbow on that fateful day, but as he holds and pets the dainty Peryava, he's thankful that he spared her life. He hasn't been lonely since their travels together, but now that she is willing to speak, he finds himself truly enjoying their adventure. Once Keket has calmed down, he strokes her cheek, eliciting a nuzzle of his palm. The pair then continue into the night, walking with the aid of Keket's superior vision.

By daybreak, they find themselves in the middle of a vast, barren field. Keket scouts by soaring overhead, and with no threats to their safety in sight, they decide to make camp and rest. A small stream provides them with water. They're also able to gather enough dead brush for El to fabricate a small lean-to. They cannot spare wood for a fire, but resting in the day has its benefits. The duo fall sleep, and remain asleep well into the night, when the cold finally becomes a problem. Awakening with a shiver, Keket has the solution.

Wriggling backward, she offers her warmth and El quickly finds himself spooning with the dainty bird girl, holding the Peryava close and resting his head against hers. Unfortunately, the warmth of her supple body has an unintended consequence. Feeling his manhood against her taut buttocks, Keket glances back. Though his face turns red, he doesn't move away. Subduing her own nervousness, she shifts her tail feathers and lifts the rather long vest, granting him access to her loins, should he so desire it.

"Zes'lii tii ho'zhei'lahn, mii'ya so'vo... S-so'vo stel'aii gor'chii." She sheepishly begins, claiming that sex will make them warmer. "Yii znii vo'vat bol'eznii, na'ko yii zna'tiiya yii znii nazh'da'sya so'vo." She adds, willing to accept the pain of losing her virginity. "Yasheriit ozo'kahlii il uch pra'kazii."

Hearing her offer her body to him and admit a curious desire makes it even harder to sleep. Why is she so eager to have sex with him?! Why is he considering it?! After a brief struggle with his inner beast, El takes a deep breath and calmly explains to her that he is simply not ready. She's shocked to learn that, like her, El has never had sex, and that he desires a bond before he will act upon his carnal urges. He wishes to "know" her.

She's perplexed by this requirement and wonders if all humans need it. She certainly doesn't. After all, he's already proven himself trustworthy and kind. He hasn't abandoned her, nor does she believe he will, and from the strength of his erection he feels interested in her and quite eager to penetrate her loins. What more is there to know?! She cannot help but ask the question.

"Na." He shakes his head. "Yii ho'zhei'lahn."

Looking him up and down, Keket stares at him for a moment. Suddenly, she leans in and nips at his cheek with the tip of her beak, pinching him in a surprisingly gentle and even playful manner. Is that the Peryava's version of a kiss or is she teasing him in some manner? Grabbing hold of his wrist, she pulls his arm tightly around her slender body, places his hand over one of her modest breasts, then hums as she wriggles backward, against him. Though she makes herself comfortable and prepares to sleep, he cannot help but notice that her invitation remains, her tail feathers leaving her buttocks uncovered.

"Spei'ta horosh, 'Ela'." She coos, wishing him a good night.

"Spei'ta horosh..." He mutters.

With his face burning from embarrassment, El is eventually forced to twist his hips enough to keep his erection from literally ruffling Keket's feathers. The following morning, they feel refreshed but sore, as neither had been so active before the raid. After burning a portion of the lean-to to cook their breakfast, they continue their hike. It is a truly vast field they're in, and several days of travel do not see an end to the grasslands. El is thankful for saving the wood, as it is all that they have. He's even more thankful that the weather has been in their favor.

On the sixth day, however, a storm looms over the horizon. The pair know that they'll be caught in it. Exposure and illness are not pleasant ways to die. With her wounds long since healed, Keket soars overhead but finds nothing for as far as her eyes can see. It's as if they're caught in a sea of grass. Returning to her companion, he stops to think. They cannot outrun a storm, so they must prepare. El then attempts a method he'd learned from a book and begins fashioning bundles from the tall grass, which he binds with rope made from more grass which he'd twisted together.

After creating dozens of bundles with Keket's help, El begins to dig. He uses the leftover wood he carries in the sack on his back, scooping clumps of dirt and dense clay. Keket helps him, and after an hour, they've dug what looks like a shallow grave, but circular. Placing several bundles on the earthen floor, El fashions a bed. The remaining bundles he ties together, and with Keket holding them in place, he buries one end with the dirt and clay they'd collected, the other ends resting against each other.

In this fashion, he crafts a pointed dome of thick grass bundles, leaving a small hole at the top. The Peryava raises a brow as she examines the structure. Though her companion seems satisfied with their labor, she wonders how sturdy it is. Pressing a hand against it proves the walls rigidity, and with a few bundles left unburied at one end, they serve as a flap. They crawl inside just in time to escape the rain, and though not entirely waterproof, very little rain touches either of them.

Furthermore, El uses the last of their wood to build a modest fire beside their bed, in the clay. It's enough to light and warm the interior and give them one last cooked meal. Her companion is truly a resourceful creature. Her kind never would've conceived such a structure. As he passes her a considerable portion of salted meat, warmed to her liking, Keket is grateful for her companion. As they hold each other and sleep on the bed of grass, protected from the thunderstorm outside, a thought occurs to her. Does she even want to return to her people?!

Part Four: The Search

The next morning, the pair strike their camp and continue their arduous journey. They save the bed of grass but abandon the rest. As they walk, Keket ponders her thoughts from the night before. They claw at her mind and feel as sharp as her talons. She turns to him and speaks.

"Ka'yiit tii siil?"

At first El is confused. What idea? What does she mean? Looking into her eyes and seeing her worry seems to answer that question. He hides nothing and reveals his thoughts and feelings. He harbors no anger for her kind and seeks no vengeance; his only plan is to return home to his village, where he still felt some semblance of belonging. However, to do so, he needs a map. Without a proper word for "map", he elaborates on a tool which guides paths. If he cannot find another tool to lead him home, possibly for sale at another town, then he must find and collect that which was stolen by her people. Keket's fretful gaze is unfading.

"Ka'yiit tii siil?" He eventually asks.

Keket merely shrugs her shoulders. El is at a loss for words. What can he say to make her feel better? Is there anything at all? Would there even be truth to it? A silence befalls the pair, and they continue their awkward march until dusk. The next two days are roughly the same, with El and Keket fretting over what might be. Without wood for fire, they eat cold meals and sleep on the bed of grass, huddled together for warmth. Eventually, on the ninth day, a town appears over the horizon.

It's quite far, and they may not reach it before dark, but they do not have much food or water to spare, as the stream they were drawing from had disappeared a day earlier. They must keep moving. It's the dead of night when they finally reach the town, the largest that either have visited. From a glance, he would estimate three dozen homes and a marketplace with nearly a dozen shops, as well as a soldier's barracks. Certainly, a town so large would have everything they need and more! Before setting foot in the town, however, Keket stops and turns to him.

"Yii na do'vat do'zhii'yei. Yii tol'ko do'vat tii. Tii do'braht muzh'chia. Yii na ga'vrii ko'da do'zhii'yei ohk'lai'do."

Hearing her proclaim her trust in him overrides her pledge to remain silent in front of others, and it takes him a moment to process to respond, let alone plan a course of action. He urges her to stay close, and that despite her feelings she must play the role of a slave, subservient and loyal to him. He should be able to protect her and guarantee her entry to any town, so long as she plays along.

"Zhen'shia vei'seda pra'viit za zihl'niiy muzh'chia. Yii ra'dahm pra'viit tii." She chirps.

His face flushes as she willfully offers her submission, a strange glee in her voice as she seems eager to play his female. After clearing his throat, he takes her hand and leads her toward the town's wooden gates. A gatekeeper opens a hatch and peers through the port hole, startled to see a Peryava standing beside a human. His shock only increases when he learns that the human is not in danger but that the bird girl is his slave. The gatekeeper notes her lack of collar and tags, a legal requirement in many kingdoms across Morveria.

"Yes. We've been roaming the wilderness for some time, and in our travels, her tags were lost. I intend to replace them, but we need shelter for the night. Please."

A moment of hesitation is met with relief when the gatekeeper grants the pair entry. A sleepy guard is made to escort them directly to the inn, and it's during this walk that the guard reveals that a flock of Peryava have been terrorizing the outskirts for several days. It has the townsfolk on edge, and furthermore, a bounty has been placed on untamed Peryava. The guard warns El against letting Keket out of his sight, and urges him to see the blacksmith at dawn, a warning which he takes to heart.

The innkeeper is equally surprised but very accommodating, and with a two copper zakians, El rents a room for the night. He also buys them dinner. Once in the privacy of their temporary bedchamber, El hopes that she will speak, but Keket will only listen. Explaining what he'd learned from their escort, however, nearly makes her gasp. Lying down for a brief rest, Keket is amazed by the comfort of the cheap, straw-filled mattress. As El stretches out and lies on his back, she tucks herself beneath an arm, seemingly eager to snuggle with him. Pointing this out earns a whispered response.

"Ra'ba vei'seda zha'duzhii dai'tei udol'sviiya ah'nikh va'delezh, zhe?" She coos.

Not all slaves delight in pleasing their masters, as she claims. Regardless, her comfort is welcomed. They lie in bed together, holding and staring at each other. El scans Keket's face only to succumb to his hormones and briefly admire her feminine form. Noticing this, Keket bows her head forward, nuzzling him gently with her beak. She takes great care in not poking him with the pointed tip or sharp edges. What a lovely sensation. Why is his heart fluttering?! El gulps and takes a shaky breath, something that alerts Keket. Lifting her head, her yellow-topaz eyes widen when he presses his lips against the side of her beak.

What was that? Is that some sign of affection used by humans? Why is his face turning red? After examining him for a moment, Keket responds by gently nipping at his cheek. He chuckles, and wraps his arms around her dainty form, giving her a soft squeeze. Something about it makes her feel something she hadn't before. El had made her feel warm and safe ever since his first night of kindness, the two most important things for a male to do for females. He provides for her admirably, so why then is her stomach fluttering?! Why is there a strangely warm sensation of speed in her chest and limbs?!

Unsure of what else to do, Keket holds him a little tighter. Perhaps that will make it go away? ... No? She decides to hold on until it does. After a moment, the human begins stroking her head, his hands petting her with a remarkable softness. Once again, he presses his lips against her, this time to the side of her head.

"Ot'kuh..." He whispers for her to rest, giving her head another little kiss. "Mii'ya uch ro'ta, sko'ro." He adds that they have much work, soon.

The night passes quickly, as their exhaustion easily overwhelms them. It's a shock when El awakens well past dawn. Rousing Keket from her slumber, he murmurs his fears to himself as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. With her talons clicking and scraping along the hardwood floor, the pair make their way outside. No sooner than their eyes adjust to the daylight, they're set upon by a crowd of perplexed and fearful townsfolk. Without a collar or tags, El has to repeatedly explain that Keket belongs to him and is not to be harmed.

As she often does in these situations, she clings to him like a child, her body practically fused with his. Escorted by a few suspicious townsfolk, El is made to order Keket a new collar and tags on the spot. Thankfully, he still has currency left, beyond the single emerald sen'kamen, which he hides from view. With her name inscribed and a pretty collar chosen by Keket herself, she seems all too eager to allow him to fasten it around her neck. The gleam in her eyes as she examines her own reflection in the cooling water of the blacksmith's shop is amusing to both men.

"Seems to me she likes it!" The blacksmith chirps.

"Indeed. Maybe she won't lose that one?"

"If she does, I'll gladly sell you another! Haha!"

"I was wondering, sir, if you could assist me?" El begins.

"Perhaps. What do you need?"

"Directions. I'm trying to return to Skolna." El answers.

"That's a very large mountain range, and it's that way." The blacksmith remarks, pointing to the west.

"I'm aware, but there's a particular village. I need to find it. Is there anywhere I could purchase a map?"

"Unfortunately, no. There are no cartographers here, and the few maps I've seen do not show a path to the mountains of Skolna. We all came from northern Vetosk, and some from Chumar."

"Damn..."

"Are you going there for work or perhaps family?"

"A little of both, I suppose."

"Because if you're looking for work, you seem well-traveled. You could help them collect the bounty on those damned birds!" The blacksmith continues.

"The guard who escorted us to the inn last night had mentioned that." El comments.

"Those filthy beasts have been raiding people for days. I hope they burn them all alive! Useless creatures... Er... Present company excluded, of course!" The blacksmith swiftly adds, glancing at the blissfully unaware Keket, who taps her tags with a golden claw.

With new collar and tags where they belong, El takes Keket by the hand and leads her through the town. The townsfolk continue to gawk, but no longer press the issue or suspect that she is not what he claims. Though he may not have papers for her, their meeting and her new tags are more than enough to make her legally his property in the eyes of the law. Walking through town, they make their way to a huntsman's shop, where game is cleaned and sold, and where tools and arrows are repaired. The blacksmith had pointed him in this direction, as the place where he could find the bounty hunters preparing for their journey.

As promised, El and Keket find themselves surrounded by two men and two women in armor of all kinds, their bodies adorned with weapons. A burly warrior in unusually tight chainmail raises an eyebrow at the decidedly average and unassuming young man and his Peryava slave. A blonde-haired woman in leather armor and holding a bow immediately questions him, asking if the Peryava are in fact his horde, who has somehow escaped him. The others share this concern and a shocked El is forced to talk the bounty hunters down.

He insists that he's merely hoping to join their hunt, for a share of the profits. Furthermore, he claims to have a personal stake, admitting to the theft of the map tube, which was carved for him by one of his only friends in his village, a kindly elder. Surprised and satisfied with his answer, the hunters then question his value to their party. He admits that he is but a humble herdsman, but that he has some use as a tracker. Not necessarily a lie, just not a whole truth.

"That's not very valuable, mister, since I'M the best tracker around!" The dainty woman in an oversized linen gambeson proudly proclaims.

"Quiet, Eza." The leather-clad, blond-haired archer sighs in frustration.

"The dwarf has a point. We don't really need his help." The slender swordsman in plate scale armor interjects.

"I'm not a dwarf!!! I'm almost fifteen hands tall!!!" Eza growls.

"Did you hear a squeaking?" The swordsman teases.

"Then consider this!" El hastily continues. "Keket, my slave, she is Peryava!"

"You don't say?!" Eza snickers.

"She not only has the capability of flight but the Peryava have the best eyes of all! Half blind, she could still see farther in a rainstorm than any of us can on a clear day!"

"Now, that IS a useful skill!" The burly warrior in chainmail grins.

Regardless of El's dubious value, Keket's abilities ensure that three of the four hunters welcome him with open arms, though they remain suspicious of her. They cannot help but question how a simple herdsman came to possess one of the rarer races of beast folk, and El immediately covers for her. Like a demon or a politician, he mixes truth with lies. He admits that she was untamed upon first meeting her, but that nursing a wounded arm had earned her loyalty, and years of care have earned her respect. Satisfied, the burly warrior, Garnok, welcomes him into their party.

Despite Eza's feeble protests, her companions disregard her, and with gear collected and supplies in their packs, the group of half a dozen set forth on the hunt. Following the last known flightpath of the Peryava, Keket scouts for the group while the shrimpy woman looks for tracks. They discover a trail and press on, but the night comes quickly and they're forced to make camp. The other hunters are surprised and taken by El's grassy hut and mattress, with Garnok commenting on its genius.

The next day, they continue their search, moving deeper and deeper into the wilderness. The dainty Eza is thoroughly amazed at the length of time a Peryava can fly, as she's unable to find tracks for many miles. Keket proves her worth, seeing the depressions from great distances. Eventually, they stop to rest. As the other hunters prepare their camp, El turns to Keket, who waits for an opportune moment before signaling to him. They've walked until the vast grasslands have nearly ended, and trees now dot the landscape, though not with great density. Tugging at his hand, she leads him away from the others.

"El, Keket! Where are you going?!" The leather-clad archer asks.

"It's alright, Varanna. We're just going to scout ahead." El replies.

"Alright. Be careful!" Varanna urges.

"Aww, do you miss him already?" The slender swordsman teases.

"Shut up, Revik!" Varanna snarls.

"Look at that dedication! I wonder, why don't you seem so eager to find those birds?" Garnok smirks at Eza.

"I could if I wanted too!" Eza retorts, defiantly crossing her spindly arms.

"Then why don't you?" Varanna asks.

"Yes. You keep telling us what a great tracker you are, but the shepherd and his pet seem to be doing a better job of it." Revik adds.

"Indeed. She seems to be quite resourceful." Garnok adds.

"Pfft! Keket... What can she do that I can't?!?!"

"Fly." Revik quips.

"Besides that!!!"

"You're right, Garnok..." Varanna turns to the burly warrior. "El and his pet have more dedication than little Eza."

"I'm dedicated! I'm just! ... A little tired." Eza pouts.

"Would you like me to rub your feet?" Revik asks.

"Uhm..."

"I promise, I will only use my hands... Unless you'd rather I use my-"

"Don't touch me!" Eza whimpers.

The group laugh at her revulsion, while El and Keket continue on their journey. They make their way into the forest, and Keket waits until they're nearly out of earshot before stopping and turning to him. Despite the distance between them and the others, she still insists upon whispering. Leaning in close, she presses her modest bust against his chest while wrapping her arms around his torso, her dainty hands and sharp claws pressing against his shoulder blades.

"Yii viid kahl'mair." She claims to have seen a camp.

"Kii'da?"

With her hands tenderly rubbing his back, she nuzzles his face and whispers into his ear. Hearing that there is a camp inside of a clearing only a mile away, El becomes excited, only to pause. First, he wonders if they'll be able to slip away for so long. Even with a good run, it would take some time to move a mile and back. Another thought disturbs him, one he admittedly had not considered before. The others want to kill Keket's people, and she's helping. Looking down at the dainty Peryava, El steps back and takes hold of her hands. His touch nearly steals her breath away, though she isn't sure why. She looks at his hands, her brow softening, only for him to call her name.

"Keket..."

"Zhe?" She turns her topaz eyes up to meet his gaze.

"Ka'yiit tii siil? Ka'yiit tii ho'zhei'lahn?" He asks.

She can hardly believe what he's said. Does he truly care what she desires?! What if she wants to ignore her people? Would he let it go? What is she to do?!?! After a period of silence, a knot forms in her stomach. Anger over her abandonment takes hold. She looks up at the human and gazes into his eyes. They're as warm as his touch and as kind as his manner, as they always are. She knows in an instant what she will do, but wonders how he will react. Perhaps she should give him the choice?

"Posk, na zes shan." She finally responds, offering to search but without the others in their group.

With a nod of his head, he agrees to join her, without the others. Keeping a swift pace, El and Keket move through the forest as it becomes denser, the trees taller and thicker. He relies only on the bird girl's ability to see, forced to follow with his hand in hers. Just as he begins to feel the burning in his side, Keket stops them. She turns to him, grabs his tunic and pulls him closer.

"Yii sa'diit, El. Eto tii vii'bahr." She whispers her submission, leaving the final choice in his hands.

He turns to her and nods. With Keket leading him by the hand, they make their way toward the camp. After a considerable walk at a slow pace, a faint light from a small fire begins trickling through the foliage. It shivers in a gentle breeze, and he notes the quiet but familiar sounds of voices. They're very close, now! El and Keket remain downwind, though it won't matter as the Peryava do not have a remarkable sense of smell. They creep slowly and quietly along the ground, crawling on their bellies.

As he follows behind his dainty companion, his eyes are drawn to her tail feathers, and the taut buttocks they shield. He gulps and turns his eyes away, just as the moonlight illuminates a particular part of her body. Glancing back, Keket motions to her companion. Crawling along the ground, he looks her in the eyes and she turns them ahead, motioning for him to move forward. Taking the lead, El moves past her and peers through the brush, his face just behind a patch of leaves and tiny branches. Unable to help herself, Keket stares at his buttocks. It takes considerable strength to keep from reaching out and grabbing it.

El's eyes grow wide at the sight of Keket' flock, and his heart sinks. It all makes sense now. Keket's lack of skill, her flock's willingness to abandon her and even her virginity; the flock is almost entirely female, with a handful of grizzled warriors who appear too aged to continue for long, their fuzz greying. The remainder are young women, many of them mothers. Some nurse their offspring, whose beaks are still soft, allowing them to suckle at their mother's breasts. Young children sit with their mothers, huddled together and staring into the fire.

All appear quite malnourished, even scrawnier than Keket, who has gained a few healthy pounds since she began traveling with him. Among the flock is a rather small cache of loot, several bags with shiny objects that seem to have been collected for no other reason than impulse. While there are coin purses and valuables, some of the artifacts are old tools. Perhaps they hope to trade with more savvy tribes of beast folk? As his eyes scan the heap, El sees his map tube among the loot. He returns his gaze to the flock. Keket's tribe are weak, hungry and downright pathetic.

Would they even put up much of a fight? What if he simply asked for the map with Keket as a mediator? What if she wants to stay?! His heart sinks at the thought. Pulling away from the bush, he turns to Keket, who quickly pulls a hand away. She looks to him with anticipation, and El motions for her to follow. They crawl away from the brush, moving slowly and quietly. When they are a safe distance away, they push themselves up from the ground, and El turns to her.

"Ka'yiit tii ho'zhei'lahn?" He asks.

Keket is stunned. Why is he asking her what she wants?! She gave him the choice!

"Ka'yiit tii ho'zhei'lahn?" She asks back.

It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, but when he does, he unleashes them. He admits to Keket that he does not wish to harm her people, in spite of what they did, and for all of the trouble they've caused him. A part of him desires to return home, but he's realized during their travels that she may not be welcome there, and that's when he delivers the most shocking information of all. In the time that they've traveled together, however brief it may be, El has discovered a fondness for her, and for the journey. Why go home? What's waiting for him? Nothing! He'd rather be roaming, with her.

Keket is touched beyond words, and a tear escapes her eye, careening over her beak as she bows her head in reverence to her companion. He wipes it away with a thumb, showing the care and consideration she's come to expect of him. Lifting her head, he asks her one final question.

"Tii ho'zhei'lahn vo'zhat'sya?"

Why would he ask her if she wishes to stay? Would he really allow her to return to her people and abandon him, after all they've been through and all that he's just said?! A look into his eyes gives her the answer. Yes. Keket can see the fear as he awaits her response. He very obviously dreads the thought of leaving without her, and yet he's sincere in granting her such freedom. Truly, he is a remarkable man! She raises a hand and tenderly strokes his cheek.

"Tii spa'zhat yii, El. Yii priin'leizh zes tii..." She begins, claiming to belong to him as her other hand grabs her tag. "Yii ho'zhei'lahn eto. Yii ho'zhei'lahn tii. Yii... Yii lu'bu tii."

Hearing her express her love for him, El is moved beyond words. He expresses his emotions in the only way he knows how, with a long and warm embrace and many, many kisses. The words come shortly thereafter. His own admission earns him a tender nip to the cheek and the nape of his neck, then a rather lusty lick. Keket takes hold of his hand. Without uttering another word, the pair return from whence they came, leaving her former flock blissfully unaware. Reaching the camp nearly an hour later, Varanna shows a remarkable level of concern, which earns considerable teasing from Revik and Garnok.

With the darkness looming over their camp, El and Keket eat a meal with their companions before retiring to their grass hut. Their companions are then forced to listen as El deflowers Keket, claiming her body as he's wanted to for some time. The next morning, Varanna appears rather displeased, grumbling and glaring at Keket for much of the day. They continue to scout for the flock but conveniently lead their group in the opposite direction, which they'd agreed to do during their long walk back to camp. After several days of finding nothing, they're forced to admit defeat and everyone returns to the town.

El and Keket agree to join the hunters as they travel to another even larger city, a place where they will have more opportunities. It was at this city where El finally traded his last sen'kamen for a wagon, two mules to pull it, and many supplies. They'd heard rumors of a city to the southwest, in the dry, rocky deserts of Vokeem. The city, called "Hakala'kata", is an ancient place and sits beside a fabled oasis. It was once home to a powerful tribe of Sabaarii of every type. Though it was abandoned many years ago, it has since been reclaimed, and is governed by a priestess of The Order of The One, herself, interestingly enough, a Sabaarii of the water-kin.

Perhaps that is where El and Keket can make a permanent home? Perhaps it's in this fabled city where they will find peace, prosperity, and most importantly of all, happiness? It is, after all, the only city where humans, beast folk and the hybrid races, the Polotan, Tretik and Zesharii, supposedly live in harmony. If nothing else, it's a rumor worth exploring, and if they prove to be false, there are always more journeys in store for the adventurous couple. They have nothing to lose except each other, and for as powerful as their bond has become, death would be but an inconvenience.

Sitting beside the campfire, El gives Keket's head a little kiss, then nuzzles her with his nose. She looks up at him and nips his cheek. Aton still sits across from the couple, waiting for El to elaborate further on their meeting, as he'd asked only moments earlier.

"As I said, our meeting was nothing quite so dramatic. We just found each other."

"Well, that's rather disappointing." Aton sighs.

"You were expecting adventure, bloodshed and perhaps a bit of comedy at our expense?" El raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I hoped to hear a story! I only received a dismissive sentence!" Aton chuckles.

Emerging from the darkness, a Vostii female looks to and fro. The white and black fur of the lemur girl makes her exceptionally easy to see in the darkness. Spotting Aton, she smiles and approaches the man. He rises to his feet and holds out an arm to her.

"Aton!"

"I'm here, Avarisha."

"I missed you." Avarisha speaks in their language.

Aton embraces the lemur woman, stopping to rest a hand on her belly, which protrudes just enough to be noticeable even at a glance. She is clearly several months pregnant by the human, whom she is bonded to. He rubs her belly quite tenderly and nuzzles the soft and fluffy fur that covers her neck. The beast woman leans into him, only to lick and then kiss his neck. El and Keket sit and watch the pair, yet another mixed-race couple making their way to Hakala'kata. They've met more than a handful of these in the time they've been traveling.

"Wait, wife." Aton chuckles.

"I not care." She retorts before kissing his neck again.

"I know, but I do." Aton says, before tenderly kissing Avarisha's lips.

"How did you come to know a Vostii who was raised without speaking Hitrosii? I thought only the children of The Order were taught our language. Well, that and high-class slaves." El remarks.

"Yes, that's true." Aton replies.

"She's not, uhm..."

"Of course not! Do I look like I could afford her?" Aton gives Avarisha's perky buttock a gentle smack.

With a little giggle, Avarisha pushes her human husband's chest.

"Now that you mention it, no."

"... You weren't supposed to answer that!" Aton chuckles.

"Sorry... Did you rescue her from a temple?"

"Rescued? From The Order?!" Aton raises a brow and smirks from sheer amusement.

"Perhaps she was captured by raiders while in service and you rescued her?" El theorizes.

"Oh, it was nothing quite so dramatic." Aton retorts, nuzzling Avarisha once more.

"Then what was it?" El asks with a little smirk.

"Tell me your story and I'll tell you mine!"

"Fair enough. Good night, Aton." El chuckles.

"Good night."

Dousing the fire, El and Keket return to their wagon and climb aboard, closing and fastening the thick canvas flap behind them. After lighting a few candles, El lies atop their bed, a mattress he'd sewn from canvas and soft, lofty straw. Keket collects the hide pouch that sits near a corner, the same pouch given to him by the witch. Opening the pouch, Keket takes a chunk of dried neberum cap and ingests it whole, something only her race is capable of; the females of every other race must dilute the toxins within the neberum by brewing a bitter tea.

He cannot help but smile as Keket coos, slowly removing her garments as she kneels before him. He looks upon her unclothed form and feels a familiar swelling. She crawls toward him, eager to ease his suffering. Unfastening his trousers, she pulls them down and gleefully caresses his manhood, exacerbating his condition. Just as he sits up and removes his tunic, she throws a spindly leg over him, straddling her lover. Keket keeps one hand on his manhood while the other caresses his cheek.

“Yii lu'bu tii... I love you. I love you so much.” He speaks in both languages, before kissing her cheek and neck, his arms ensnaring her body.

“I love you.” Keket mimics his words, whispering his language into his ear before sitting upon his manhood and grunting.