Before you is a creature that appears to be a strange mix between a lion and a human, similar to a centaur, yet not. The lower half is like any of the big cats, sleek golden fur covering the back and sides back towards the idly swishing tail, the fur a creamy-white along the underbelly. Rising from where the neck and head would be on a cat, however, is a very humanoid torso, lightly covered in the same golden and cream fur. She is pretty obviously female as well, from the shape of the body underneath the torso armor she normally wears. The head, on the other hand, is a mix of the two. In shape and features it's leonine as well, but the blue eyes show intelligence, and copper hair flows off the top and back of her head, similar to that of a human woman.
"Hey, watch this!"
The male orangish-copper furred wemic, a creature that could best be described as a lion-taur, paused from checking his prey's trail across the grassy plains at the sound of the voice. Twisting his upper torso and head to look back, he watched his female companion, also a wemic, as she twirled her odd 'spear' around her upper half, demonstrating some new trick she'd figured out. He smiled a moment, shaking his bushy blond-maned leonine head and grinning at her antics. "I'd still like to see you try and hit something throwing that, what did the traders call it...? Ah yes, halberd... and hit anything."
Swiftwind responded with a mock-pout on her muzzle, resting the length of the polearm's shaft along her golden-furred flanks. "Now Stormy, you know that I'm far better with a bow then with a spear. This'll let me hit a bit harder when I fight claw-to-claw. Besides," she added, flashing him a sharp-toothed grin. "all it cost me was a pretty rock."
Firestorm nodded at that, turning back to examine the tracks. "True enough I suppose... the way those two-legs gushed over it you'd think it was actually... useful..." Frowning, he levered himself back up onto all four feet. "Odd. It was running from something, but there's no other tracks, or sign of any other hunters. I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Relax." Swiftwind padded up beside him and patted his lower back. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's nothing the two of us can't handle. Nobanion knows we make a pretty good team."
He flashed her a smile in return, though his eyes were still a bit troubled. "You're right about that I suppose. Spirits know, we were certainly caused trouble enough together for our parents."
Letting out a quiet purr to go with her smile, she leaned in and gave his cheek a lick-kiss. "Maybe after we finish the Rite, we can make our team a little more.. permanent, if you catch my meaning." Flirting her tail, she padded in the direction the tracks seemed to be going, leaving a bemused Firestorm to watch after her, raising his hand to that spot on his cheek as her words sunk in.
He opened his mouth to respond, then froze as a dark shadow passed momentarily over the sun, and a faint sound of beating wings reached his ears. Swiftwind had obviously heard it too, for she was as still as a statue, apart from her head, which turned to look towards the source.
Firestorm turned his head to follow her gaze, feeling a wave of fear wash over him and root him to the spot as he saw the majestic and terrible sight of a large blue dragon wheeling around towards them.
He sensed, more than saw, Swiftwind take a tentative step to turn towards him as the great blue swept closer and closer, lightning crackling around its maw. Go! Run! he thought at her, but all that escaped his mouth was a mewling whimper. Helplessly, he watched the dragon's snout open, the lightning building inside, then spearing out through him just like the spear his white-knuckled hand clenched would have speared the animal they had been hunting for their Rite of Passage. As the electricity tore through and over him, locking every muscle in pain, he noted out of the corner of his eye Swiftwind breaking and running for the trees, her 'halberd' dropping forgotten to the ground. Go, my friend... my l- His last thought ended as his body collapsed, smoking, to the grassy land, and the dragon landed to begin its feeding.
Panting heavily, Swiftwind stared out from the forest's edge in horror as the blue-scaled beast tore open her former companion with a wet ripping sound. She'd always been proud of her keen senses, but now they seemed a curse. Unable to look away from the carnage, she watched as bit after bit of her childhood friend disappeared down its gullet until, apparently sated, the dragon tensed its legs and leaped upwards. Catching the air under its beating wings, it circled and flew off towards the east, apparently having no interest in trying to follow her into the woods. As it left, it took the feelings of terror with it, leaving only disgust and shock pooling in her lower stomach. At that point, there was only one thing the young wemic woman could do and stay sane; she fainted.
With a soft sneeze, Swiftwind came to, blinking her eyes a moment as the world came back into focus. Nnnn.. must have been really tired, she thought as she shifted her limbs to a slightly more comfortable position. Wonder if Stormy caught supper yet. Better check on him... smells like a storm coming.
Levering herself up, she glanced around. Heck of a place to take a nap. Padding out of the treeline, she caught sight of a flock of vultures pecking at something. Now he knows better than to- Her thoughts came to a screeching halt as she recognized the distinctive fur color on a patch of flesh one of the vultures had just torn free, and the last hour came crashing back.
Dropping to her lower belly, supporting her upper torso with her arms, she let the pain wash over her, tears wetting her facefur and dripping to the ground. "Why.. oh Nobanion, why..." A couple vultures glanced over at her, then judging she wouldn't make a decent meal yet they returned to their feasting as she cried her laments to the sky.
The sky was darkening above her by the time she had cried herself out. Rising on unsteady legs, she trudged forward to reclaim her halberd, then with a few halfhearted swipes shooed the few birds still around from what remained of her friend. Using her hands and front paws, she dug a small pit next to it, her shoulders still shaking with the occasional quiet sob. Murmuring a quiet prayer, she shifted his remains into the makeshift grave, then pushed the dirt back on top. "From the earth we came, to the earth we return."
As the moon rose overhead, she turned to look back the way they had came. "What difference would it make," she whispered quietly into the night, "if the monster had gotten one or both of us. I should have grabbed him. I should have not distracted him! I should HAVE-" She cut herself off, gripping the polearm in one hand tight, the short claws on her other hand digging into her palm. Then, with a sigh, she just relaxed all at once. "Let the winds, my namesake bring these words to you, friends, family. I failed-" Her voice choked a bit, but she managed to continue. "-Failed Stormy, and I failed you all. I'm not worthy of the pride. Maybe someday our paths will cross again, but until then, farewell."
As she turned and padded off silently towards the trees, back in her pride's encampment, the tribe's shaman raised his shaggy head. He looked off in the direction the two wemics had left a couple days before, feeling a sadness overcome him, and a faint sense of goodbye. "May the spirits watch over you," he murmured, not knowing what had happened, but that he'd never again see the two of them while he lived.
The elf smiled in satisfaction at the small stone pedestal before him. "First time, but I got it right," he said to himself as he traced his finger over the symbol of Shaundakul etched into the rock. "And my first discovery, to boot."
He raised his eyes to look past the small shrine to the winding river and ancient oak grove he'd stumbled upon looking for a place to camp. It had a feeling of ancientness and freshness at the same time, and somehow he knew his deity wanted him to stop here.
His contemplation was broken as he heard something moving through the brush behind him. Whirling around, hand reaching for the greatsword stuck into the earth next to him, he found himself facing a scruffy-looking female wemic. her copper hair and golden fur was a mess, and whatever she had been wearing on her upper half was in tatters. His sword arm tensed, but suddenly the wind changed direction seeming to whisper in his ear, 'Peace.'
As she saw he wasn't going to attack, Swiftwind let the grip on her broken halberd loosen, dropping from numb fingers a moment later. A moment later she collapsed to the ground, the exhaustion of the past few weeks' troubles claiming her as the druid quickly moved forward to check her injuries. The last thing she felt before the darkness claimed her was a light touch and soft words soothing away the hurts and pains that had somehow combined into a constant dull ache throughout her entire body.
"Well now," the elf said to his unexpected and unconscious guest, "seems someone up there certainly likes you." Catching sight of the way her rear left leg lay, he winced in sympathy. "'Specially since it looks like something down here didn't."
Swiftwind awoke with a start, scaring the bunny who had been sitting in front of her. As it bounded off into the trees, she yawned wide, then blinked in surprise as she realized she was perfectly fine, though a bit hungry. All the scratches and wounds she'd gathered felt like they'd disappeared! "Am I dead?" she murmured to herself.
"What was that?"
With a start she lifted her torso, looking around and noting with slight surprise the blanket falling off her as she looked for the source of the voice. "Who's therrrrrre?" She called out in Common. "And what do you want?"
"Just to lend a helping hand." To her left, an elf in green seemed to melt from the forest itself, stepping into the light of the morning sun filtering through the treetops. "You were pretty badly hurt."
Baring her teeth a little, a soft growl underlaid the wemic's words. "You shourrrrrrd have rrrrret me die. Maybe then..." She glanced aside, unwilling to finish what she had been about to say.
The elf crossed his arms, his eyes seeming to bore into her a moment before he smiled, lessening the effect. "Would have been a waste. Life is meant to be lived, not thrown away despite whatever.. troubles? you may be having."
"You know nothing of my trrrrrrroubrrrrrrres. I have nothing to rrrrrive forrrrrrr."
His eyes seemed to cloud over a moment, and he dropped to a knee beside her, bringing him almost to the same level. "Everyone has something worth living for, if they know it or not. Besides, if you really wanted to die you could have done the job with that blade you'd been carrying around." When her head snapped up at that, he couldn't help chuckling a little. "Don't worry, it's right over there." He gestured over his shoulder with a thumb. "The metal needed some cleaning, and since you were out cold I went ahead and did a little work on it. Shaft still needs to be replaced, but there were no fallen branches the right length nearby. Now, do you have a name, or should I just call you 'little kitty'?"
"Rrrrrr... " She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, before letting it out. "In yourrrr rrrrrranguage it wourrrrd be Swiftwind."
The elf nodded, then grinned a bit as her stomach rumbled. "Not quite my language, but close enough. Sounds like you could use a bite to eat." As he stood and walked towards the campfire he called over his shoulder, "Just your luck that nature saw fit to grace my hunt with a bigger buck than I usually get. I had been wondering how I was gonna handle it all by myself. My name's Felanorn by the way." Swiftwind just stayed quiet, watching him as he cut off a chunk of the meat he had roasting over the fire and brought it over. "Here, maybe this'll help."
She stared at it a moment, then almost reluctantly took it from him and bit off a small chunk. Blinking in surprise at how good it tasted, she started tearing into it, practically inhaling it as she discovered how famished she was, while Felanorn just grinned.
Plopping down in front of her, he leaned back against the cool stone of the shrine he'd created and waited until she'd finished swallowing the last bit of meat. "Now that that's taken care of, why don't you tell me what you were running from?"
Her expression clouded over, and as she opened her muzzle to respond he held up a hand. "Don't bother to deny it... Anyone who hadn't felt a pressing need to be somewhere else wouldn't have kept on moving with the injuries you had." Closing her mouth, she started shifting her legs under her, but the elf just shook his head. "I wouldn't recommend standing yet either... your leg needs time to heal."
Disregarding his words, she pushed her front up, but the instant she tried to put any weight on her rear legs, they gave way and her tail hit the ground again. She glared at the elf but he just shrugged. "I told you so."
Sighing, she lowered herself back down, crossing her arms under her breasts. "I wasn't rrrrunning frrrrrrom anything. I just do not deserrrve to live, not when-" she cut herself off, hugging herself tightly. "A two-rrregs wourrrrrd neverrrr underrrrrstand."
"Try me." Felanorn's eyes had darkened a bit at her words, but Swiftwind didn't notice, her gaze remaining downcast. "So far this is starting to seem real familiar." The wemic just shook her head, shoulders shaking slightly.
Rising, the elf reached out to ruffle her hair slightly. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. You need to rest up and get your strength back, and I need to commune." Rising, he turned and walked off into the forest, whispering quietly into the wind, "Shaundakul, give her strength."
The next few days went by swiftly, as Felanorn helped his unexpected guest to get her feet back under her, so to speak. During the evenings he tried to tease more of her story out of her, with varying success, but enough for him to get a general picture of what had happened.
Then one night, instead of feeling around the edges like she had expected he said, "Let me tell you a story." Perking an ear, she continued eating, listening as the elf told how a band of orcs had descended on him and his family as they had been traveling between towns, and how he had been the only one to survive. She listened in silence, her chewing slowing to a halt as he recalled the shame and anger he had felt as he watched them from hiding as they raped and killed his little sister, and how he'd tormented himself afterwards with 'what if's. Finally, he rose and left the wemic to her thoughts and the cold remains of her dinner.
It was enough. The next day, eyes downcast and pausing occasionally to bring herself back under control, she told him of what had happened out there on the plains. As she finished, he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. "What you encountered was called a dragon. Running was the only thing you could have done."
She sniffled softly a moment. "But..."
He cut her off. "But nothing. There was nothing more you could have done They can create a fear that clouds minds, and they're almost impossible to hurt without powerful magic. If you'd tried to help, both of you would have died." She started to turn away, but Felanorn grabbed both shoulders and gave her upper body a shake. "Think! Would he have wanted you to die for nothing?" She managed to shake her head slightly, unable to get any words out.
Nodding softly, he let her go. "Now I see why Shaundakul sent you my way. Perhaps I can do for you what the druids did for me, and help you find the balance within yourself."
"You seem troubled."
"Hmm?" Turning at her waist and looking behind her, Swiftwind nodded her head at the aged human who had stepped out of the tree behind her. "Good eve, Grrrrandmasterrrrrr. Just thinking is all."
"About what, if I may ask?"
He walked up next to her, sitting on a fallen log, while Swiftwind lowered her rear hindquarters into a sitting position. "I've been feeling a bit rrrrestless lately. Yourrrr teachings have helped me come to terrrrrrms with myself, and I can feel my connection to the worrrrrld around me like I neverrrr could before. Still..." She trailed off, searching for the right words. "The Oathswearrrring is coming soon, but I am beginning to wonderrrrr if this is the rrrrright path forrrrrrr me."
"In truth you have come far since Felanorn brought you here." The two of them watched a squirrel run by a moment before the old man continued. "You performed your lessons admirably, your grasp of Common is much better, and as you said you found the missing part of yourself. However, not all that hear nature's call are destined to be its servants."
"Grrrrandmasterrrr...!"
The Grandmaster shook his head. "There is no shame in finding ones path leads elsewhere. Felanorn was much the same. Go with the Grove's blessings. Travel the world, find your place in it. Just don't forget what you learned here is all we ask."
"Grrrrandmasterr.. I..." She bowed, a bit flustered and unable to suppress a quiet purr. "I don't know what to say..."
Giving her shoulder a pat, the Grandmaster rose again. "If you don't know what to say, then sometimes saying nothing can be the best choice. Silvanus go with you, my child." A moment later, he faded into a nearby tree, and was gone, leaving a confused but content wemic in his wake.
The marketplace was a-bustle with activity as merchants hawked their wares at passersby. People of all races wandered up and down the streets, pausing to shop at stalls, or ducking into and out of more permanent shops.
Ears folded back slightly at all the noise, Swiftwind found herself looking around with wonder at all the activity. Like a curious bird, her head kept turning one way and another, trying to take it all in. The people around her however seemed to pull back a bit when she went by, and also seemed to give her just as many strange looks back, but she had accepted that that was going to be a problem no matter where she went in two-leg society when she set out. In a small way she considered it a blessing actually, since it gave her some space to move around without having problems bumping into everyone else nearby.
Pausing a moment, she slipped her hand into one of her belt pouches, fingering the pieces of metal inside. Before she left, the Grandmaster had explained about these 'coins' and how people used them in barter. She still didn't get why two-legs saw so much value in pieces of shiny metal, but there's a difference between understanding and making use of.
Catching something glinting out of the corner of her eye, she turned and found she had stopped in front of a weapons and armor stall. She had heard about it, but it still made her tailswish in surprise to see outfits made of metal. Padding closer, she leaned in, taking a closer look at one of the stands, where the metal bits were laid like a lizard's scales. Taking a sniff, she caught the faint scent of worked leather. Aha! So that's how they make it work, she thought. A moment later her examination was interrupted by a nervous cough nearby.
"Is madame wemic interested in s-some of my fine protection?" Looking to the side, she saw the apparent shopkeeper had come around the table to her side. A quick glance explained the attention; she'd apparently frightened off his other customers.
Shrugging to herself slightly, she turned back to the scaled armor. "Mm, yes. This looks most interrrrresting. How well does it work?"
"Why you just strap it on, and it'll protect you from all sorts of weapons!" On showing her interest, the merchant's taste for gold had apparently overridden his fear of her presence, as he seemed perfectly confident now to her senses. He rummaged under the table a moment, returning with a sword. As she watched curiously, he demonstrated how the layered metal turned the blade as it struck from several different angles.
Finished with his talk, he leaned on the sword a moment, catching his breath while Swiftwind considered. "How much would it cost for a set in my size?"
The storekeeper looked her over with a critical eye, though his gaze seemed to linger overlong on her chest, before responding. "The breastplate would be easy enough to fit, but for the rest you'd need some sort of barding. I could put something together, but..."
As he trailed off, she stared at him a moment, perking her ears forward and waiting for him to finish, before she realized what he was hinting at. "How much would it cost?"
As he named the number, she stiffened slightly, her tail lashing. There's no way I could afford that! Turning to look back at the stand, she got her reaction back under control as she looked it over again. "Hm. How much for just the breastplate?"
That time the number was a bit more reasonable to her. "I'll take it. Just put it in one of the bags back there," she said as she reached into her belt pouches and counted out the number of coins the man had requested. When she had left the Grove, instead of a backpack like most two-legged travelers, she had taken a pair of saddlebags across her back to carry whatever she might have need for. Swiftwind wouldn't have minded changing right there to try it out, but she'd learned that most two-legs had a strange taboo about hiding their bodies, and if she was going to be among them it'd be best to humor them. Luckily they only seemed to care about her upper half; she would have hated to try and find something to cover her entire lower body!
A few minutes later, with her new load secured, she was trotting down the street, trying to recall the words of the guard at the city gate. The traffic flowing around her was starting to fade along with the light as night approached, and there had been a place "suggested" to her for where to stay the night. Let's see... there's the food stall with the sweet meats... Her stomach rumbled at the smell, startling a passerby who quickly made his way down the street away from her. So I need to go left here... mace and shield, mace and.... aha! She nodded to herself as the sign matched, then frowned at the run-down building.
"THIS is where I'm supposed to stay?" she muttered to herself, then pushed through a door that seemed barely able to stay on its hinges, tucking her tail close so it wouldn't get caught. Pausing a moment to let her eyes adjust, she glanced around the dismal taproom, taking a read on the crowd. Apart from a couple scruffy looking humans, a dwarf with an eyepatch, and the one-handed halfling behind the bar, it seemed to be mostly the less advanced two-legs. A couple goblins, several orcs, a gnoll... was that a lizardman in the back corner? She shook her head. I think I'm beginning to see why not many of my kind ever bother with two-leg society.
As she walked up to the bar, the halfling behind the counter gave her one look, then went back to spit-shining the side of a mug, holding it in place on the bar with his stump. "Biggun' aintchya? Rate's one silver a night, in advance." Whiskers twitching at the smell rising from back there, Swiftwind fished out one of the gold coins remaining and placed it on the counter. It had lain there barely a second before it disappeared into the grubby hand of the halfling, replaced in the same smooth motion with the key to her room. "Back hallway, third room."
Taking the key, the wemic turned and padded off towards her room, rear claws clicking against the floor as she reflected on the bartender's quickness. Seems he does well enough with just one after all, she thought as she slid the key into the lock and turned it, then frowned as the door refused to budge. Leaning against it, she gave a shove, and stumbled halfway across the small room as it gave way. Eying the spartan accommodations, she closed the door and locked it, then slid her bags off her back onto the floor with a clank. "Good thing I'm a simple wemic," she said to herself in Sylvan as she laid down on the sleeping mat, kneading it slightly with her paws.
After digging in her pack a moment, she came out with a pack of the smoked meat and a small pamphlet she'd picked up earlier that day. After the druids had taught her to read, she found she enjoyed it for its own sake, though she was aware her choice of materials was sometimes a little lacking in taste. The novel she was currently reading during mealtime was one of those; full of bulging muscles, heroic warriors, evil wizards, treachery and romance. She couldn't help a passing wish as she tore a bite off the stick of meat that someone would write one of these about her kind. Regardless, soon enough she was lost in the story as the improbable male hero waded through a sea of orcs, killing several with each swing of his huge sword, which he'd recovered in the previous volume from the lair of a red dragon that he had tamed as his mount with nothing but a whip.
The next day found Swiftwind paying a visit to the local mercenaries' guild. She'd decided to try her new armor out, and when she had gone out into the taproom wearing it, one of the nearby orcs had laughingly asked if she was supposed to be a merc. The bartender had noticed her confusion, and explained about them to her when she went up to the bar for something to drink. She distrusted the food there from what she could smell, but the drinks were decent enough. So after grabbing a sweetmeat from the stall she had seen the previous night, she went looking for the guild, and soon found it.
As she pushed through the two large doors into the small compound, her ears immediately flattened against her head at the sounds of clanging metal resounding through the courtyard. As the door creaked shut behind her, it caught the attention of a nearby dwarf who was to all appearances instructing a pair of fighters on sword combat. Signaling them to take a break, he walked over to the new arrival, leaning his head back as he regarded her.
"Well lass, what're ye here for? Hirin' or sellin'?" He paused a moment, then grinned. "Yer blade that is, not yer looks."
Swiftwind just lashed her tail lightly as the dwarf laughed at his own bad joke. "I was told that you paid well forrrr those who know how to fight. Nothing was said about making light of them."
The dwarf just chuckled, patting her flank. "Jes' a li'l humor, lass. Ye should learn to 'preciate it." Stepping back, he regarded her with a stern expression. "We'll see 'ow ye size up. What're ye good at?"
"Well, I was a decent shot with a bow, and okay with a halberd though I haven't used one in a while."
The greybeard nodded. "Then foller me." Turning, he led the large 'taur across the field to an area obviously set up for target practice. Grabbing a bow from a nearby rack, he tossed it to her, shortly followed by a quiver of arrows. "Now show me what ye got."
Unfortunately, she didn't do too well, with only a couple of the arrows hitting near or on the bullseye. A little deflated, she handed back the empty quiver and bow. "Eh, I've seen worse," the dwarf said, "but I've seen better too. Let's try ye in melee.. preferably against someone a li'l closer to yer size!" He finished with a guffaw, and led her to the third sparring circle, where a halforc seemed to be practicing his stances.
"Hey, Thark, this'un says she kin handle a polearm. I'd like ye to test 'er out an' see 'ow she fares."
Nodding, the half-orc walked over to the weapons rack and returned carrying a halberd in one hand and a greatsword in the other. Handing it to her without a word, he moved back across the circle, dropping into a ready stance. Hefting it, Swiftwind gave it a few experimental swings, getting the feel of it, and drawing a raised eyebrow from the half-orc at her one-handed use. The dwarf just grinned. "Lay on!"
Cautiously, the two circled each other, warily exchanging a couple strikes, though neither of them managed to land a solid hit. The wemic may have made a bigger target, but she was also adept at moving with the hit to rob it of its force. Both the weapons were also blunted for practice, so there was little risk of accidentally seriously wounding either of them.
They went through several more exchanges with about the same results before the dwarf let out a shrill whistle and called "HOLD!" Though Swiftwind just stood there confused at first, Tark rested his greatsword point-first against the ground, leaning lightly against the hilt and pommel.
As she returned the polearm to a resting position along her side, the halforc nodded and spoke for the first time, in a deep, rumbling voice. "She'll do."
Slightly bewildered, the wemic let herself be led by the dwarf into the main building as he talked on about what she could expect joining them. "...after taking out dues of course. The way ye handled that I think we might be able to fit ye wit' a shield too, if'n ye're not adverse t' learning it." He paused a second and she could only nod numbly.
"Ye look like ye could keep up with riders with those four legs o' yers, so perhaps a merchant caravan would be right up yer alley after..." As he resumed his rambling, Swiftwind wondered just what she'd gotten herself into. She'd come looking for information, and apparently found a job instead.
As the wagons pulled over for the night, Swiftwind let out a sigh of relief. Slipping out of the treeline bordering the path she flashed a signal to the drivers of All Clear. The gnome up top on the lead wagon nodded, then stuck his head into the lead wagon to pass the message to their boss.
As they started to make camp, Swiftwind kept an eye on their surroundings, ears swiveling slightly as she turned her head and torso left and right, keeping a watch out for bandits. In her third week as an escort, they had been surprised by a small group who had thought them easy pickings... until they hear a roar behind them and turned to find a large wemic barreling down on them waving a halberd in one hand and a large shield in the other. They quickly broke and ran, and for once she had gotten to indulge her hunter instincts.
Word had apparently gotten around from the couple that had escaped, for they hadn't had any more trouble in the weeks since. After stopping in a smaller town a week ago, they had entered wilder lands, and she had found herself feeling more at ease, traveling the wilderness as they made their way north. Since about noon that day, however, there had been a feeling of something watching her, a presence she could almost sense, but not name.
*crack*
Whirling around, halberd at the ready, Swiftwind looked for the source of the noise. Peering into the shadow of the trees, she slowly padded forward until she was about where she had heard it. A quick look turned up the twig, but nothing else. Perplexed, she turned and trotted back over to the campsite, keeping a wary eye out, but nothing happened, and eventually after a good meal of meat stew and another chapter of her latest book she dropped off to sleep.
The next morning, Swiftwind woke to quiet purring. "Mm.. didn't realize bed was this comfortable," she murmured to herself... then snapped wide awake as she realized she wasn't the one purring.
Slowly, she turned her head, and snuggled up against her on her sleeping mat, was a panther. It was still sound asleep, and the source of the purrs she'd been hearing. As she slowly started to shift away, the black cat's eyes snapped open, and it nuzzled her flank, before falling asleep again. As she stood up, one of her fellow guards passing by on some errand gave a laugh. "New pet eh? Or new boyfriend?"
Ears folding back slightly, Swiftwind copied one of the gestures she'd seen one of the other guards do a few days back when pissed off. "She's female, I'll have you know."
"And I"m sure you had fun checking!" the guard called back over his shoulder, which actually gave the wemic lass pause. I didn't check... so how'd I know...?
She tried dislodging the cat with little success, then with an exasperated sigh gave up and strapped on a halter top to go grab breakfast from the campfire, since her armor was in the bag the panther was using as a pillow.
When she got back after a cold meal of biscuits and leftover stew, she found the cat had seemed to have disappeared. A little confused, she packed up her equipment and armored up while everyone broke camp.
Several times she thought she saw movement in the shadows of the trees but each time she went to look there was no sign anything had been there. Not until several hours down the road... when a crossbow bolt went whizzing by her head, and she hear a tearing snarl.
"BANDITS!" Sounding the alarm with both sets of lungs, Swiftwind dashed in the direction she had seen the bolt come from, as the disorganized bandits tumbled out of their hiding places and stumbled towards the wagons. Her warning had given the guards the minute they needed to form up to meet the enemy as she crashed head on into the one nearest her.
Wielding her Halberd, she quickly drove the bandit back, just as the panther from before came dashing out of the trees. Watching it out the corner of her eye, she braced all four legs, but instead of darting at her, it pounced on the bandit, clawing along his back.
As the brigand went down, giving a high-pitched scream of pain, Swiftwind turned to meet the next threat, and a moment later the panther was flanking that one as well.
By the time the pair took down a third bandit, the outlaws were in full retreat. As they ran off, Swiftwind and her new friend walked back towards the wagons. "Well, your pet certainly came in handy!" the guard from before called off the top of the nearest wagon, as he took a potshot at the fleeing bodies.
Sitting down on her haunches a moment to clean the blade, Swiftwind nodded, the panther curling at her side and licking the blood off its claws.
"What's its name?"
The wemic paused a moment, looking back down at the black-furred cat, then called back, "Herrrrr name's Midnight."
The commander of the detachment, an older human whose hair was streaked with silver, rode up alongside the wagon and nodded to her. "Well, thanks to the two of you we had enough advance warning we only received light casualties. Both of you deserve an extra portion of meat tonight."
Swiftwind nodded her thanks, and was it her imagination or did her new companion seem to purr a little louder on hearing that? Finishing the wiping of the blade on her polearm, she glanced down the road a minute, where the caravan was starting to get moving again. She was starting to feel that mental itch again, like she had when she had left the grove, or even earlier, when her and Stormy... when they'd decided to wander so far afield for their final hunt. I'm just not the kind to sit around, I guess.
As she rose and the group dropped back into the cadence of long range travel, Swiftwind found herself contemplating their next major stops. The caravan was headed for an area called the Silver Marches. From what the tales the traveling bard who'd stayed at their camp a few nights ago had said, it was an interesting place, and they should be able to hire replacements easily enough.
Glancing over at Midnight ghosting among the trees, then down along the long road ahead, she found herself wondering what else was in store for her... and her pulse quickening as she contemplated what challenges may lie ahead.