The Fellowship Grows, the Journey Continues (RP)

Lille surveys the campsite with silent satisfaction. Her lack of comment seems rather a theme for her; during the day’s travel, she had seemed mostly content with not speaking. Although her neutral expression can be hard to read at times, she seemed more comfortable in the silence of the trees and surroundings. By contrast, she had been most confused and uncomfortable when the group tried to do things like share introductions and make small talk. Sometimes she had responded briefly, but she also frequently slipped away to scout up the road, returning without a word.

Now, with familiar tasks to do again, she looks more at ease. Just past the edge of the camp she rolls over a small rotten log and spends a minute collecting grubs into her pot. Then she collects up her fishing pole and heads towards Ezme. "For your trap," Lille says, putting a small piece of sweet bread with dried apple into the trapper’s hand. "The rabbits and birds say they love it. I will be up the larger branch." She points with her pole to where the small creek near their campsite meets a larger stream. "Good luck." She shoulders her pole and heads off into the fading light of the day.

With a dubious nod of thanks to Lille, Ezmaray will scout the area to discover where the local animals are trafficking, then set some traps.

Roald leaves the hunting and fishing to Lille and Ezme who sound and act like they know what they are doing.
He helps Theo and Daryl with the camp.
When everything is set up he starts sharpening his dagger, in case some butchering has to be done.

Albert leaves the camp area to go and collect firewood. He decided to head in the direction that Lille was going. Not because he doesn't trust her, but he was a bit concerned about what she said earlier today. From what he could gather, someone close to her had died recently. Perhaps Lille could use someone to talk to and a prayer.

Lille frowns as she spots the older man following her. What could have gone wrong so fast? That campsite was quite perfect. She looks longingly up the hill where some boulders suggest a large, deep pool, ideal for fishing. She stifles a sigh and walks down to Albert, brushing an ambitious grub back down into her pot.

"What is it?" she asks tersely.

"Oh, I was just gathering wood." Albert says, obviously lying. "So, I was wondering... This person you spoke of. Jordan? Sounds like it was someone important to you. Did he pass away recently?" He picks up another branch, trying to act casual on his way to Lille.

Lille relaxes visibly once she hears that there’s no problem, but slides straight into confusion. Does he not know how to gather wood? Does he want... praise for it? "Jordash was my caregiver. He died just before I came to you." She brushes off the facts as if they are irrelevant, and points to the branches in his arms. "Those are great, but there are plenty more close to the campsite, and then you won’t have to carry them so far," she says in the tone of someone patiently advising a child.

"Ah yes. I think these might burn better, though." Albert replies.
"It was Jordash. Excuse my mistake." He continues as he finds a bit of moss that looks cozy enough to sit on. "I'm sorry for your loss. If it helps, I'd be happy to say a prayer for him. Wherever he may be now." He tries to talk solemnly. "I'm not sure how religious you are, but Raynor has been there for me through some rough times lately."

Lille stares and blinks owlishly as she tries to parse Albert’s claim about the wood, then fails and gives up. "I buried him near his favorite spot. I’ve never known words to change a creature’s death." She still seems to be struggling to grasp the relevance of his words. She stands awkwardly by him and thinks for another moment. "Is Raynor another adventurer?" And why can this not wait until later? Though there is still plenty of light, Lille can’t help but glance over her shoulder to the presumed fishing location.

"That sounds like you honored him in death." Albert replies. "Raynor is the god of conquest. He is the one who has tasked me with a greater mission. The one who needs our help to defea the darkness." He notices her looking at the water. "Ah, I'm keeping you from your fishing. I will try finding more wood over where you suggested." He smiles warmly and gets up to leave. "Happy to have you with us, Lille."

Satisfied with her trap placements, Ezmaray returns to camp to prepare some more simple treatments for the group's bee stings. As she does so, she glances at Theo. He, upon realizing he is of little use at the moment, has pulled out some light reading. She does not want to interrupt Theo from his momentary escapism, so she waits to catch his eye.

Now no longer in a high stakes emergency situation, the trapper is also hesitant to touch her companions. She almost looks a little awkward as she hands a readied clove to Roald, suggesting that he apply the treatment on his own.

Roald puts down his knive and stone and gladly accepts the garlic.
He likes the smell... But more so in food than on his skin.
'' I've got one in the back of my neck, a bee flew in my hood. Good thing they lose their stinger... Could you help me out Ezme? ''
Roald pulls down his collar to show her the spot.

Ezmaray is not sure what to think of Theo's behavior. She starts to open her mouth to say something, then pauses as he continues to stare intently at his book, refusing to look up. She snaps her mouth shut and turns dutifully back to the task of preparing the garlic, hoping no one saw the awkward exchange.

Upon hearing Roald's request, Ezme hesitates only briefly, "Oh... Of course." Stepping around him, she studies the red, swollen spot carefully for a shadow stinger, just barely making out something embedded in his skin there. "Let me... just..." Tentatively, she reaches out to gently scratch it off with her pinky nail, sheepishly noting as she does so how dirt-stained and sappy her hands are. She apologizes as Roald winces slightly at the scratch. "Sorry. Was removing stinger..." she explains. She rests one hand on his shoulder to steady him as she delicately rubs the clove over the sting site with the other. His shoulder is firm and warm under her hand.

"On plus side," Ezme muses as she works, trying to act casual, "mosquitos also do not like fresh garlic smell, so maybe you can repel them for bit... along with any ogling fangirls you would like to keep at bay," she adds with a quirk of the lips.

Her eyes dart back over to Theo to see if he is watching.

Lille’s fidgeting stills as Albert’s words finally get through to her. She locks eyes with him, her gaze intense, though her voice is soft. "Your having me also.. honors him." She thinks deeply for another moment, then reaches out her hand to touch his un-stung arm. "Thank you." Her last two words come with a small smile but a huge load of meaning. Then she turns away in quiet thought towards her task.

'' Auch...''
A muscle twitches in Roald's shoulder when the stinger gets removed from his neck. Ezme's hand feels rough and a bit cold.
''Thank you, that spot wasn't easy to reach, let alone to remove the stinger.''

'' If you don't mind me asking, where do you and Lille know each other from? There seems to be some level of connection between the two of you''

In response to Roald, Ezmaray says, "She approached me, night of the solstice." She exhales softly, pausing with thought, garlic pressed to his bite. "I do not know if her ... Jordish? ... was already passed by then. Perhaps she already was seeking companionship... But I was... I attracted her attention." Ezmaray removes the garlic and releases Roald, stepping back around to the empty ring of stones that would become the fire pit (if Albert ever got back here with some firewood!).

"In truth I do not know much more about Lille than you do," Ezme admits as she takes a seat on a log. "All I can say is she... she has untamed spirit." She snorts a laugh, averts her eyes to her knees, and shakes her head slightly. "But... I think her heart is in right place..." she finishes softly.

Roald nods
''I see, she seems trustworthy and kind. In addition to that you already know her and say more or less the same. I think she'll fit right in''

"Wha..?" Ezmaray blinks groggily up at Theo and props herself up on her elbow to look around. It's relatively dark - not a star in the sky. She hadn't felt the rain through the outer, water resistant layer of her bedroll, but the precipitation appears to have done a number on their fire, which sputters weakly at her feet. "What do you mean they will not wake...?" She rolls on her side to study the still form of Daryl, who lies nearby with rain-splattered face. "Daryl?" she shakes him gently, then more vigorously - to no effect. Frowning, the trapper rests the back of her hand to his forehead to check for a fever. As she does so, she notes his eyes moving rapidly under closed lids. "He is dreaming..." she murmurs.

Ezme turns urgently to Theo as she climbs out of her bed roll and moves toward the others to check on them. "Did you see anything? What happened??"

After checking their prostrate companions one by one, she rises to face Theo, working hard to mask her growing concern. "We will figure out how and why soon. First thing first," Ezmaray says firmly. She looks over at Albert, who rests safely in the shelter of the tent. "We need to adjust the fly of tent, to provide shelter to Roald, Lille, and Daryl. We do not know how long they will be out like this.... If they soak through, they may grow ill on top of.. whatever this is. We will unstake the tent here and here and use rope to re-tie to those tree branches. I will get rope."

With swift and urgent instruction, Ezme leads Theo in an attempt to protect their vulnerable companions from the elements.

"Okay. Now why them and not us...." It is more of a statement of intention than a question. "You were not stung, were you, Theo?" Ezme inquires as she steps delicately between her companions to Albert's side. He was the first to be stung. She checks the sting on his arm, then turns around and gently rolls Roald over on top of Daryl to check the one on the back of Roald's neck -- she knew that sting had gone untreated for far longer.

"I was not stung..." Ezmaray answers distractedly.

Upon first glance, Albert's sting doesn't look bad at all -- just a couple dark streaks underneath the skin. Ezme inhales sharply with dismay when she looks at Roald, however. Some dark substance -- presumably the venom? -- had pooled there at the base of his skull. Too disturbed to be embarrassed, she enlists Theo's help to remove his upper garments, discovering that the venom from Roald's other sting had seemingly traveled up his torso to the very same spot, leaving subtle dark streaks in its wake.

Ezmaray shares a concerned look with Theo, then flits back to Albert, rolling him onto his stomach to inspect the back of his neck. There, too, the substance seems to be pooling. She glances at Albert only briefly before hurriedly pushing him off Lille and dragging the druid out of the folds of her fur blanket. The girl's body feels unexpectedly cool to the touch.

"Quick! Check Daryl!" Ezmaray barks to Theo as she flips Lille onto her stomach, knowing that the knight had also sustained a large number of stings.

It's obvious from her first glance at Lille's lightly dressed form that something from all four insect bites was traveling directly toward Lille's head/neck. An even larger pool is gathering there on the young girl -- promising to soon be the size of both Albert's and Roald's spots combined.

Ezmaray leans in close to inspect the area around Lille's neck better, her upper lip curling with puzzlement. As she studies it, she notices the shadowy pool almost swirling before her eyes, taking on shapes like ocean mist as it hits the rocky coast and curls into ghoulish forms. Ezme reaches out tentatively to touch the area, then withdraws and gasps.

She'd expected inflammation, but this -- it was freezing to the touch! Ezmaray reaches out again, pressing two fingers against Lille's neck. The shadowy pool withdraws from the warm pressure of her fingers, then swirls and eases back to refill the space once she removes them. Ezmaray shudders from the coldness, goosebumps running up her arm to tickle her own neck.

Her brow furrows with consternation, then her eyes suddenly widen. Was that the shape of a horned wolf she'd seen the swirling venom on Lille's neck briefly form? No... Certainly she was imagining things now...

The trapper looks up at Theo. "How is Daryl?"

Ezmaray quickly rolls Lille up to Roald and wraps them both up in the fur blanket so that they can share body warmth. She then dashes to Theo's side.

The knight's metal armor is unfamiliar to her. She fumbles to figure out exactly how to remove it, but working together, they are eventually able to take it off. Ezmaray hurriedly unbuckles the gambeson underneath to reveal the knight's cold, clammy skin. Sure enough, the same dark streaks... the same pool near the base of his skull. She turns to Theo.

"It seems to withdraw from touch. Or heat? All I know is it is slowly freezing them -- especially Lille and Daryl." Ezme grimaces at the sizzling fire pit. "Hate to say it, but it would be useful about now to have blasted flame of what's-his-face..." An idea strikes her. "Maybe search Albert's body for holy symbol? Maybe it will really hate that? In meantime..." she glances at Daryl hesitantly. "... I will try to ... warm him."

With that, Ezme wraps the cold, limp knight up in her warm embrace, pressing her cheek to his. Surely he isn't that cold? Yet the act feels like hugging an icicle or taking a plunge into arctic waters, and Ezme immediately starts to shudder, her teeth chattering audibly. Still, she determinedly clamps her hands over the dark pool on his neck. With that, a second wave hits her -- an overwhelming feeling of insecurity, loneliness, and abandonment. This blast was even worse than the cold. Ezme clenches her eyes shut, willing herself not to withdraw.

"C-Cold?" Eyes squeezed shut and swamped as she is by the dark emotions emanating from Daryl, Ezmaray struggles to concentrate on Theo's words or actions.

On the plus side, the knight does appear to be warming up. That or she's cooling down? All she can say for certain is that the difference in temperature between them seems to be leveling out.

Ezme opens her eyes. Daryl does not appear to be stirring, but there's at least more color to his cheeks. She releases the knight, experiencing immediate reprieve from the dark emotions and coldness as she does so. Checking his neck, the pool of venom is still present, but seems smaller and less turbulent. Maybe, with enough hugging, she could remove it entirely? But right now she should probably turn her attention to Lille.... With numb, shaky hands, Ezme tucks Daryl's clothing and blankets around him.

She stands to look at Theo as he lays the staff down on Albert's chest. "I think... I think that helped Daryl. I should.. I should try also with Lille, but first... I will need some time ... to recover..." she manages between chattering teeth. (Ezme assumes the young lad would feel shy about hugging the barely clad girl, plus... Ezme wouldn't want to subject him to the awful feeling that came of actually touching the venom pools.)

Ezme reaches for her own blankets to wrap around herself and curls into a shuddery ball. She is only barely getting cover under the tent fly. Water cascades off the top of it, puddling nearby and splashing her slightly. "In my pack... There is trapper hat..." She nods with her head toward the pack. "Can you fetch it?"

Theo scurries to the pack but hesitates momentarily before opening it. "Go on," Ezme encourages him. "Nothing inside will bite." With her permission, Theo starts opening the pack and reaches in. "The dead coon in there is long past that sort of thing..." Ezme adds dryly.

Theo shoots her an uncertain look. She shivers, expressionless, then smirks and shakes her head slightly to confirm that she jests. Theo shakes his head and averts his eyes, looking slightly abashed, then starts pawing through the contents of Ezme's bag. His hand hesitates as he lifts what appears to be a leather bound journal. There is also a pen and ink in there. Interesting.... His curiosity is piqued, but time is probably of the essence, and it's none of his business, besides. Finding the fur cap, he grabs it and brings it over to the woman.

"Thanks," she says as she takes it and shoves it onto her head. She tightens the blankets back around herself and shivers quietly.

At this point, the lad is at a loss about what to do. He stands awkwardly for a bit, then finally crouches a few feet away from the woman. The trapper stares toward Daryl, her expression darkening. She shudders again -- this time not from the cold -- then turns her eyes to Theo, watching him wordlessly. She notes the worry creasing his face.

"We will get them back," she reassures. "And if we cannot figure it out, we will get someone who can.... I promise, you will not be stuck alone with me forever." She smirks humorlessly and looks away.

"I... I do not know yet," Ezme confesses. "Just... let me warm up little more... Then maybe we can try something with staff....?"

Her brow knits. She is confused about how her reassuring words only served to distress Theo more.

"You are not alone... I am here..." She pauses. "Or is this the problem...?" She tries to read his face, then goes on reassuringly. "It is no big deal... You would not be first person to be weirded out by me...."

(It's an odd position to be in, trying to reassure someone that you are okay with them being weird around you so you can help them feel more okay around you.)

"Oh... Okay... Good..."

Ezme turns her face away from Theo, very careful to keep her expression neutral, but something in her stomach flips in synchrony with the false assumption now turned on its head. He admired her? Really??

The last time she had believed a boy liked her, it had turned out to be a cruel hoax... Might Daryl have goaded Theo, challenged him to take me on, just as Danfer and Eurick had done with Aarov? Staring at Daryl's still form, Ezme had a hard time believing him capable of such. Frankly, she had a hard time imagining Theo agreeing to something like that, either. But that would mean...

Not right now.

Ezme shoves all of these thoughts/feelings/memories back into the far corner of her mind where they belonged and turns her attention to the more pressing matter at hand: helping her companions and keeping them safe. She turns back to Theo.

"If you do not think me weird, then step in out of rain. You are getting all wet." Still hugging the blankets tightly about her, she gestures with her chin for him to come closer.

Not expecting the humor, Ezme blinks at Theo with confusion before realization dawns. A small, amused smile creeps onto her face before she shakes her head and rises to her feet. She reaches out and grabs him by the elbow. "Come here, you." She pulls him to her side, tossing her blanket over his shoulders, as well, to help shield him from the rain. As long as they are both standing, there is room for them together (mostly) under the tarp.... With any luck, the rain would cease soon....

Sharing the blanket forces Ezme to be no longer fully wrapped in it, but at least Theo's shoulder is warm next to her, and her shivering is starting to quiet down.

"You are warm... That helps..." Ezme comments, hoping to mask the awkwardness of the moment.

When he continues to stand there stiff and wordless, she lets out a long, shaky exhale through pursed lips, her mind grasping for ways to ease the tension. Finally, she speaks:

"When I was very little, I had silly argument with my mother. It was winter. I thought if other animals can survive without fire or houses or clothing -- that surely there was way for people to do it too. I wanted to explore how it could be done, but my mother refused to let me outside, as it was very cold that day. She took my boots away and put them out of reach. But I was angry and determined and went ahead and marched outside in just socks. She watched me go out into the drifts and thought, 'Oh well, she will be back in two.' ... Ended up curled up on boulder with slightly less snow on it, risking frostbite, refusing to go back inside and admit defeat...." Ezme closes her eyes, huffing a single self-deprecating laugh through her nose. She shakes her head, her smile fading, then opens her eyes again, her expression growing serious as she finishes the story. "My father had just come home. He had to put all his gear back on to come out and collect me..." She rolls her eyes in a manner which suggests that her father was not at all pleased about this development and that she'd never lived this down. She sighs, staring off into the night. "My mother would tell and retell this story. It was all the proof she needed that I was bullheaded from the start...."

She turns to look at Theo, studying his face. "... Do you get on well with your parents?"

Ezmaray frowns curiously. "Are you not his heir? ... Do you not want to take over?"

"Darker...? How?" Ezme inquires.

Glancing at her unconscious companions, Ezme suddenly realizes how dumb her question may have been. All the same, she gives Theo a chance to speak for himself.

Ezme's eyes dart off to the side and back. "Are the women... so... terrible here?" she asks haltingly.

Ezmaray is confused. This was some serious mixed messaging. "Why would being women make them worse...?"

Love it??

"It was... rather... jarring," Ezme says, her brow furrowing with the memory. Her shoulders hunch slightly, and she turns her face away.

Ezme turns back to Theo as he says this, taking in his regretful expression. For a moment their eyes meet. She notices for the first time that his are a warm, honey brown. Everyone in her family had some shade of blue. This was different...

Ezme feels quite warm now, but for a moment, as their eyes lock, her mind goes blank and time seems to freeze as still as Theo.

The trapper clears her throat and breaks the shared gaze as she eases out from under the blanket. "...Your sister will be fine," she manages to say. "Strong woman cannot depend on men to protect her, not if she is to change the world's mind about her sex."

Trying to hide her own confusion and discomfort, Ezme redirects their focus, stepping away and toward their companions. "I should check Lille," she says, unwrapping the hide blanket that enfolded both the wood nymph and Roald. She puts a hand to Lille's forehead and extremities. "She is chill, but not as bad as Daryl was."

Ezme observes that Lille and Roald's eyes both move rapidly behind their lids. They are clearly experiencing some sort of hallucination. She rolls both companions onto their sides so she can check on their venom pools. As she does so, Lille mumbles something in her sleep: "Roald..."

Hmm... Ezme checks the back of their necks. Her brows raise with surprise; she waves Theo over.

"Would you look at this? The venom on both of their necks has formed same image! Is that ... Is that some sort of dagger??" She shares a look with Theo, then dashes over to Albert to check him.

"I do not know...." Ezme answers Theo as she leans over Albert.

The trapper startles when she touches Albert to roll him over. "He is much warmer now!" She runs her hands over his exposed arms, observing that the hands that were laying on the staff now surge with heat. "The staff! I think it is helping him!"

Ezme rolls Albert onto his side and checks his neck, comparing his venom pool to Roald's and Lille's. The latter two continue to mostly mirror one another, though the image changes and shifts. Albert's is completely different, however. Watching it, Ezme thinks she observes some sort of large animal there, but then it swirls and shifts again... She looks up at Theo.

"The venom is still there, doing its thing, but... the staff does seem to be doing ... something. If we could just... get him to say the words, maybe he could wake everyone...?" Ezme feels stupid as she says it. Gods don't intervene in human affairs! And yet, she had seen that stick glowing, the night of the mists....

Ezme exhales, then pushes Albert onto his back again, nudging his hands back onto the staff as best she can without touching the thing. She braces herself with a long sigh, then leans forward, talking into Albert's ear. "Albert... You are stuck in dream. But you have your fancy stick in your hands. You need to say the magic words, okay? Say prayer to Mr. Fiery Pants so you can wake up. Wake everyone up...."

Albert's eyes flit this way and that under the lids, but he still does not speak or awaken. "Raynor, Raynor.... Call on Raynor..." Ezme tries again.

She looks at the staff and hesitates, then looks skeptically up at Theo. "Do you... want to try calling on Him?"

Theo's answer comes as no surprise, but it is still discouraging. Ezme looks at Albert's staff, working hard to suppress a sneer. After everything that had been done, there was no fracking way she was going to pick up that damned stick and call on "Lord" Trevant Thorne's adulated god of conquest. Raynor wouldn't give a hoot about her, she reasoned, and even if she did manage to get the god's attention, he'd probably just sense her disdain and carbonize her on the spot.

She shifts her attention to Albert's other possessions: the oozing acorns and the bottles. She handles them delicately, grunting at the differences in temperature. Careful not to touch any of the contents, she extracts a small blob of the black goo onto a leaf, then uncaps a bottle of the clear liquid and gives it a whiff. Not smelling much, she shrugs, then pours a few drops of the warm, clear liquid over the blob. The black ooze sizzles and pops, shrinking until it completely dissipates. Brows raised, she looks up at Theo.

"Well, that is interesting... But I have no fracking clue what this clear stuff is or what it would do to our friends..."

Ezmaray's head snaps sharply to Albert when she hears him speak. She listens intently to his words, then shares a concerned look with Theo. Poor Albert seemed to be struggling with the same, horrible feeling of abandonment that she had gotten from Daryl....

Ezme leans in close, talking into his ear: "We are not leaving you, Albert. We are right here, trying to help, but you need to pray to your god... You need to pray to Raynor...." She watches helplessly as another tear rolls down the older gentleman's cheek. Ezme swallows. She sits up, collecting herself, and turns back to Theo.

"Let us try moving him to the others," she suggests to the lad, careful to keep her voice calm and steady. "He is very warm. Perhaps he and the staff can help them warm up, too."

Theo nods agreement. The two of them grab the barkeep by the arms and legs, unceremoniously hoisting him between Lille and Roald. Theo places the staff back on his chest, and, as an extra measure, they position Lille's and Roald's arms across Albert's body so that their hands, too, rest on the staff. Couldn't hurt, right?

Ezme nods, satisfied. "Now, for Daryl...." she says, turning toward the knight....

Ezmaray steps over Roald's body to the unconscious young man, mentally noting as she does so how his armor is getting rained on and how annoyed he'd likely be about it when he woke... if he woke. Space is at a premium, however, and people take priority over equipment, she reasons. Ezme crouches to reopen Daryl's blankets and gambeson, resting a hand on his chest to check his temperature. He feels cool, but still much warmer than he was before the hug. She frowns, noticing that his face is twitching in an odd way, then rolls him on his side to check his neck.

The venom pool is about the same size as it had been when she'd last seen it, but now it is churning in a very agitated fashion, as if retaliating against her efforts to subdue it. Concerned, she checks the others' necks as best she can without disturbing their arrangement. Their venom pools are more active than before, but don't appear to be as worked up as Daryl's. Albert's also now seems to be moving in concert with Lille and Roald's, a fact which she points out to Theo.

"Perhaps... Perhaps they are connected, and it has to do with their physical proximity...?" Ezme glances back at Daryl as a small whimper escapes his lips. She suppresses an anxious grimace. The lad's face continues to spasm in a manner which looks... wrong. Lying on his side, his body is not yet touching the others....

"Let us... move Daryl closer to Albert, as well."

Ezmaray takes the knight's arms, Theo his feet as they attempt to position him "big spoon" behind Roald so he can reach across to Albert's staff. As they shift him, however, Daryl's entire body begins to convulse, Theo loses grip on his feet, and Ezme ends up dropping him clumsily into position. Releasing him, she watches with dismay as his unconscious form shudders spastically and begins to drool.

"What do we do?!?" asks Theo, his voice rising with panic. Ezme rolls the knight onto his side, checking his neck. She pulls back and lets slip a curse at the image portrayed by the venom pools: two round eyes... a giant, menacing grin... Whatever Daryl was encountering in that dream.. it looked fracking terrifying.

Without giving it a second thought, Ezme dashes to fetch the acorns and the glass vials. Two ideas had occurred to her a few minutes ago, but she'd been unsure which was the better one to attempt first. Now there was no time for debate.

She holds up the acorn. "This stuff knocked bear out cold. Maybe it will do same for me. If I can enter shared dream, I can help Daryl and tell Albert what is happening, tell him to say prayer to Raynor...."

She hands Theo the glass vial.

"If that fails and I am not able to help, backup plan is you... pour this on their necks? Or maybe have us drink some? Just make sure it does not burn us first...."

Wide eyed, Theo shakes his head in refusal, but then Daryl at their feet cries out something illegible, his body still seizing up. Ezme looks at the knight, then turns her gaze back to the acorn in her hand, her expression resolved as she looks about ready to consume the dark ooze.

"Wait..." Theo finally manages to say, holding up his hands and shaking his head wildly.

Ezme looks committed, but then suddenly stops and looks up, her eyes locking on Theo's. She is clearly not seeing what's in front of her, however. The trapper pushes by the lad, bounding over their prone companions to her pack and digging out the leather-bound journal.

"Tell me you've changed your mind..." Theo says, anxiously toddling up behind her. "We have no clue how that honey will affect you..."

Quick as she can, Ezme scratches something down in the journal and rips out a page, shoving it at the mayor's son.

"My family's address in Dalhurst. If something happens to me. You must make sure they get the money. Any money! Money for my sisters!" She turns back to the acorn, readying herself to consume the dark goo. "Theo, I know you are shy, but if I ... Please don't let me freeze to death. Please." She swallows nervously and glances at him. Taking in his frantic expression, she rests a hand on his shoulder. "You will be okay."

"Ezme, no! Surely there's another--" Theo starts to wail.

"Just make sure that Daryl is touching that staff!" Ezme interrupts, pointing at the young knight. With that, she gulps the stuff down before Theo can stop her.

The blackened honey is surprisingly sweet, almost sickeningly so. She lowers the acorn. "I do not know if that was enough," she says, sitting down behind Daryl. "Men are smaller than bears, but all the same I may need to--"

Mid-sentence, the woman goes slack, toppling over onto Daryl and Roald.

Albert strains to move, he scratches the fur... no... skin on his chest. His other hand is clenched tightly around his staff as if in a death grip. That wasn't there when he fell asleep. His hair and clothing is soaked is sweat, though he's not feeling cold. He tries to speak but the only thing his ears hear back is "whuuurh" He must not be fully awake yet.Theo leans over him with a worried expression as Albert rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "Mornin'" He manages to get the word out.

Lille wakes with a start, but relaxes on the bear as she becomes more conscious. No, not a bear. This is Albert? She stays lying close, with her hand on the staff as she sniffs in the scents. Sweat dominates the bouquet, and a hint of the sickly sweet honey from Ezme. But even though the smells are mostly human, there’s somehow a hint of bear mixed in.

She struggles up to sitting, completely disregarding the fact that she’s wearing only her underwear and chest wrap. Her concern for Ezme comes alive as she sees the trapper not stirring like the others. As Theo moves in to action, Lille drags herself over and tries to support the larger woman as he does his work.

Roald wakes up and his first intention is to turn around to his side and sleep some more.
That's weird... I wasn't sleeping... was I?
Then all the events from the past night flash before his eyes. He sits upright,... too fast,... the world starts spinning and he has to lay down again. Roald takes a few deep breaths and composes himself. He slowly sits up again and checks the camp. Everybody is standing by Ezme, or he suspects it is Ezme, because he cannot see clearly who is vomitting all over camp.
Slowly he stands to take a closer look.
Sooo tired

"Is everybody alright? "

Ezme had been on her knees, whispering fervently to her goddess, when the living darkness encroached. Her prayers were stifled as it invaded her mouth and writhed down her throat to rile up her stomach. She'd worked hard to keep the contents down, for some reason fearing that, by vomiting, she would be losing what remained of herself in this dark place. She'd fought and fought for what felt like minutes, until the lack of oxygen finally smothered the fire within and she submitted. Let oblivion take her. She was done.

Except... she wasn't.

When Ezme's eyes shoot open, she finds herself propped upright, surrounded by her companions, the contents of her stomach all down her front. Gasping and sputtering, she launches forward out of Lille's arms and looks around her as water streams from her eyes, slowly piecing together where they are and what had happened. So, she wasn't dead... As it all falls into place, the trapper catches eyes with Theo, then leans forward, hiding her face behind her hands. "Aughh..." She feels nauseous still, shaky, and wretched as a sick bear. And she didn't like people seeing her like this.

Upon hearing Roald's voice, she wonders if she could have brainstormed a more humiliating scene if she tried... Oh yes, yes she could, and it would probably involve wearing that dumb leotard.

"Just peachy," Ezme manages to croak back to Roald from her curled position, surreptitiously wiping the vomit from her chin onto her soiled shirt. "Do not mind me... Theo told revoltingly bad joke, and I throwed up... Strong gag reflex, you know...."

She breathes deeply and tries to quell her shudders.

Albert had gotten up slowly to check on Ezme after Theo's worrying explanation. "Lille, help her sit up. I'm going to get a wet cloth."

When he returns, Ezme is already coughing up the goo. With a worried heart, Albert wipes her face softly. "Don't worry, Ezme. Just let it out."

The worried face turns to absurd laughter when Ezme cracks another one of her signature jokes. "She's already back to her old self." He nudges the others, smiling.

Lille holds on gamely as Ezme ejects the toxic sludge, but the larger woman’s spasms make it a difficult job. She manages to prevent it from getting *everywhere*, and Lille’s arms only have a few splatters, which she ignores. Once Ezme is through, Lille reaches a hand over to squeeze her shoulder. "We are going to clean up," she announces. When Ezme hesitates, Lille nods her head insistently towards the closest part of the stream, which can just be heard gurgling in the night.

The two standing up is a bit of a tangle; each woman struggling through tiredness and trying to help the other without touching her too much. Eventually they make it to standing, and Lille grabs up her staff, towel, and half-empty water skin as they pass her gear. At the edge of camp, Lille stops and casts a warning glance back at the others. "Nobody go to sleep before we’re back." She then rejoins the reluctant tapper and they pick their way under the light of the waning moon.

Before leaving camp, Ezme manages to limp over to her backpack to grab a fresh top... her last now. (The other got ripped up and turned into garlic compresses.) Now she sets it on a boulder under the shelter of a tree and weakly sits to rest, momentarily contemplating the rushing stream. It brings to mind the one they'd crashed into just moments ago in dreams. She frowns uncertainly. Unless...

"Did you have dream about stream, crashing wagon into it... The... clay pot?" the trapper asks, casting a quick glance the druid girl's way. With some difficulty she removes her top, moving with care around the long line of stitches down her chest. She sets the soiled blouse aside.

Lille looks up from where she’s crouched beside the water, finishing splashing off one arm. "It wasn’t a dream," she says slowly, as if partly convincing herself of it. "There’s no way we’d be this tired after sleeping," she adds with more confidence. Her eyes widen at the sight of Ezme’s chest. "Did you get *that* in the.. place?" she asks, pointing to the wound.

Albert goes to warm up by the fire, he helps Roald pick some more firewood before sitting down. "I don't feel the same, Roald." He says. "I'm not sure what happened in my dreams exactly, but it was intense." As usually happens with dreams, the memory of it is already starting to fade.

"I remember that I lost Raynor in that dream." He looks worried and exhausted. "This is scaring me more than those skeletons. You can't fight a dream. What if it's an omen?"

Roald thinks for a minute, staring into the fire.
"No, I don't think its an omen. This dream was more like a nightmare, it confronted us with our fears, but we fought back, we were stronger than this ... shadow. You couldn't remember Raynor, I lost my physical strength, I couldn't help anybody anymore and was in need of help myself. "

In a way Roald is convincing himself, he too still has his doubts.
What if the events that happened there still linger on in the real world?

"Don't worry my friend, everything will be just fine, I'm going to check on the others"
Roald pats Albert on the shoulder and stands up.
In the east, the sky is getting lighter.

Ezmaray shakes her head. "No. This was from mist creatures..." She supposed that, technically, the wound was self-inflicted, but she didn't feel like going into that right now. Lost in thought, Ezme eases down toward the stream to gently splash the water on herself and wash away the scent of bile.

If that hadn't been a dream, then what did that mean? What force had brought them to that place? Could it have been that being she had met, or was he just another sort of prisoner or puppet? She replays the whole encounter in her mind. What had he meant when he said he would catch her "on the flip side"? The joyful, victorious ring of his laughter... that was certainly worrisome.

And then there was the matter of what she had experienced with Daryl... She felt her heart swell with warmth toward him, but the unsolicited nature of that memory sharing made matters ... awkward. And she wasn't entirely sure how much of herself she'd shared with him....

Reaching for her shirt to start rinsing it off, Ezme glances toward the young woman washing off nearby. Lille, herself, looked preoccupied. Recalling the girl's worried cries earlier, Ezme softens. Lille was a sisterless child. She had no clue what it was like to have that sort of companionship, and yet she clearly longed for connection as much as the trapper did.

All of Ezme's siblings were raised "female." What would it be like to have a sister like Lille -- wild, unrestrained, and forceful, but also kind? ... Is this how Ezme came across to her own siblings??

Ezme shakes her head to clear it. "It is all behind us now," she says to the girl, trying to sound reassuring.

"Creatures..." Lille seems to have difficultly comprehending why any creatures would be in the terrible mists, much less an adventurer. She finishes washing and takes a swig from her water skin before refilling it with the cool water. "If this is what adventuring is like, I think it may not be over yet." She glances down at one of her sting sites suspiciously. "Especially for Albert," she adds, leaning on her staff as she waits for Ezme to come walk beside her. "I think there is still some bear in him."

Ezme's brow quirks with surprise as she sets side the newly cleaned shirt and slips on the new blouse. "Oh? Why?"

"He smells a little like a bear," Lille explains. "But also like a man." She seems quite confused by the existence of this impossible state. "Another bear might notice, but only if they were close."

Not entirely sure what to make of Lille's comment, Ezme merely grunts in response. She collects her damp shirt and the two of them start making their way back toward the menfolk.

Albert smiles at his friend before he's left with Daryl and Theo. His stomach rumbles and his thoughts dwell to a nice meal. He could really go for a chunk of bread slathered with honey right now. It's been so long since he's had a truly sweet meal. The thoughts only make him more hungry. "Do we have any food left?" He asks Daryl who is sitting not far from him.

"Hmm?" Daryl replies, obviously lost in thought himself.

"Are you alright, Daryl? You look a bit pale." Albert asks him. The response is not what Albert had expected. "Oh yes, well maybe... Or maybe not." Daryl tells him and continues to talk about what happened in the dream with Ezmaray and himself. "It's just a nightmare, Daryl. I wouldn't think to much of it if I were you. Or if you really want to know, ask her." Is Albert's conclusion.

Daryl nods, self-reflecting that he needs to work on his bravery.

"We don't happen to have anything sweet to eat, right?" Albert asks, changing the subject. "Yeah, didn't think so. A shame, really."

Roald hastly walks through the forest and almost bumps into Ezme as he rounds a thick bush.
"Oh, sorry, I was, yeah, errr, ... we're thinking of breaking up camp and getting back on route. If that's ok with you guy.. ladies of course?
And maybe hunt for some small game."
Roald said that last remakt more as a question, knowing very well who was the better hunter in this company. He turns around and joins the women on their trip back.

"Yes, Lille agrees, "I think it’s best that we move on from this place. And taking a longer stop to hunt later would be good." She walks in thoughtful silence for the last bit back to the camp.

"Perhaps we can take a longer midday break today," she suggests to the group, surveying the tired faces of all her companions. "If you check your traps, she says to Ezme, "hopefully there will be some breakfast for this fire." Squatting down to warm her hands beside Albert, she suddenly switches to Wildspeak. "Albert, could you pass me that stick?" Lille points to a small branch on the other side of him.

Albert agrees witthe sentiments of the group when they are conveyed to him.

While Lille is tending to the fire, she looks at him a bit strangely. Her eye movements and a few heavy breaths make him realize why. Ah, she needs some more sticks from over near that stump. he thinks, picking up on the signals. He turns to do just that and a low huff escapes his lips without realizing it, followed by a click of the tongue. "On my way."

Nobody but Lille seems to notice.

Lille arches an eyebrow and looks satisfied, but doesn’t say anything. She receives the wood with a normal spoken, "Thank you," and returns to poking the fire and preparing to eat and break camp.

Ezmaray is not sure what to make of Theo's latest display. His terror had made sense to her... mostly... (though now she doubted her prior insight regarding his feelings for her). But now that everyone had come back safely, the lad seemed oddly grumpy and morose. And poor Daryl! What could he have possibly done to deserve such ire??

It made no sense to her whatsoever. Of course, Theo still acted uncomfortable around her, so the trapper didn't feel well positioned to resolve whatever issue had arisen between the young men. Instead, she did what came most naturally: pretended not to notice and focused her attentions on feeding the group. She knew how to care for the crew's basic needs; hopefully someone else would step up to the task of being peacemaker.

Gazing off toward the town, Ezme wonders idly to herself if Wankle was still following them. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of him since the night he'd come to her aid, but her secret nightly offerings continued to be appreciated by somebody. It might be slightly harder to leave him that offering in town, but she liked the idea of a night in a bed. (Though she could never remember them in the morning, Ezme had the feeling that her dreams had been troubled. Certainly her sleep had not been very restorative....)

"Shall we approach with caution...?" she suggests, glancing back at the crew.

Roald too notices the change in atmosphere. He wants to talk to Daryl, but is afraid his friend won't speak up with everybody in hearing distance. To his left he sees the glinstering of the sun on what has to be a small stream, he waits a minute or 2 to execute his idea.

"Hey everyone, I think I heard a waterfall a few steps back. Daryl and I will go and fill everybody's waterskin and catch up later"

They gather the skins and reach the watersource with ease. On their way back to the group, Roald tries to talk to Daryl.

"You're not looking quite yourself my friend, is everything ok? Is there maybe something you need to get of off you chest? You know I'm always here for you if you need a listening ear"

''I agree, an awful experience indeed, but it's over now, we fought the shadow and conquered. THAT is what you should focus on! Another adventure we survived, we learned, got smarter, stronger,...''

''It seems like Theo is having a rough time too, and he wasn't even in the Dreamworld? Any idea what's going on there? Maybe you should have a chat with him, being his best friend and all...''

Albert's stomach rumbles as he looks at the village, thinking of the possibility of eating a juicy piece of big or chicken. "If we go in weapons drawn, I'm sure they won't appreciate that." He replies to Ezme. "Let's try not to look too intimidating." He looks around at the group. All of them have had a rough few days. Looking too intimidating might be a tall task at this point.

He waits for Roald and Daryl to be back and decides to take the lead into the village roads. "I see some smoke rising over there." He tells the group, pointing up. "At least we know someone is home."

Lille had spent the travel days becoming used to the group and mentally recovering from the shadow-realm. Initially she stayed relatively close, seeming fearful of unknown lurking forces or creatures. Even while "scouting" or taking her typical long breaks from the group, she was rarely out of sight for very long. She answered questions with short minimal replies, and rarely volunteered anything that wasn’t essential to the group’s logistics.

Slowly her tense and flighty body language faded, both towards the group and the world at large. She still often took long breaks or walked at a distance from the adventurers. But now she seemed less stressed when long chats passed between the others, and more likely to sit and listen, if not join in. Theo and Daryl puzzled her, and she mostly ignored their strange behavior.

Stopping to regard the village with the others, Lille scratches her head, currently decorated with one of the wildflower wreathes she is wont to make during any down time. "Why should we be cautious? Are these people known to be violent?" She leans on her staff, eyeing the smoke Albert pointed out.

"That is the question," Ezme answers quietly as she passes Lille, following Albert. "These people are unknown to us. Small villages... Some are friendly to strangers. Some are not."

As they enter the edge of town, Ezme's hackles raise when a black, medium-sized dog dashes out from behind a hovel, bounding toward them and barking at them from behind a patched-up fence. Her hand instinctively dashes toward her hunting knife, lingering there for a moment as she reads the situation and the dog's body language. The canine's raised tail wags vigorously as it continues to bark its greeting.

Friendly.

Ezme relaxes her hand and endeavors to look peaceful, herself, as a beautiful young girl with long blonde hair steps out from around the house and calls the animal to her. The girl's large, hazel eyes widen with surprise when she sees the strangers; Ezme offers the child a pursed smile and a nod. Shyly averting her gaze, the barefoot child runs out and starts dragging the insistent dog back toward the house.

"Excuse me, young lady." Albert speaks up. "We are travelers. Could you direct us to a place where we might find a place to sleep for the night?" He's still feeling pretty exhausted. Even with the sleep they've had the past few nights, it hadn't been enough to catch up on lost time. Not to mention the vivid dreams he's been having about scratching trees and hunting wild animals as a bear.

He looks expectantly at the girl and gives his warmest smile as to not upset her. "Cute dog, what's their name?"

Lille barely gives the girl a glance, but heads straight for the dog, squatting down near it. "Hello," she says in Wildspeak, by offering her hand for him to sniff. "Can you tell me about the people who live here? And anyone who’s come to visit recently?" She adds some belly rubs, if the dog wants them, as an exchange for the information.

"Looks like a Lenny to me." Albert says about the dog not having a name. He gives her a friendly smile and turns to the group. "Seems like a decent neighborhood. Let's have a look around. We'll surely find someone in charge."

He looks father down the road at the different houses. Checking the different decorations if any. As he's looking around, he spots a well not too far off. As good a place as any to start. When the group is done discussing, he heads in that direction.

Lille nods thoughtfully as she receives the information. Her belly rubs are all that’s needed to express thanks, and she adds in normal speech, "Good boy!" before standing to rejoin the humans. As she starts to follow Albert, she remembers the girl and turns back. "Do you know how close the border is?"

Ezme lingers quietly by the gate, observing the interaction, but not immediately following Albert down the street. She watches with interest to see how the little girl responds to Lille's question.

"Zom-bees?" Lille repeats, turning back fully with a look of concern. "What do they look like? Have they stung anyone yet?" She glances worriedly at Ezme and the oblivious-seeming dog.

Since there is only one house really standing out from the others, this seems like the most obvious choice to Albert. Most leaders have the urge to differentiate themselves after all. So there's a good chance this dwelling houses such a person. He heads over and checks for any sign or symbol that might indicate who or what lies within.

Once near the door, he doesn't notice any kind of writing but a familiar smell makes him realize what he has found. The smell of malt permeates through the cracks. This is definitely a place where one can find a drink. As good a place as any to get some information. He knocks on the door and tries to open it.

Ezme's brow crinkles. She, too, is unfamiliar with this foreign word. This must not have been a topic covered in school.... She would have to inquire with the others later.

"For what reason do they not come into town?" she asks the girl. Not wanting to intimidate the child, the trapper leans casually against the fence in an attempt to diminish her size.

Ezme looks back at the girl, her face very serious. "I come from much, much farther away. And where I come from, little girl gets clocked upside head just for thinking about talking like that to her elder…" Ezme shifts her weight and narrows her eyes, her face unreadable as she stares down the impertinent child.

Her expression suddenly breaks into a playful smirk and she straightens. "I think I will like it much better here."

"Wait," Lille says, giving both the girl and Ezme equally puzzled looks. "What stops them from just flying over here? Are some people maintaining a smoke screen? How long have they been there?"

Albert looks at Roald and shrugs. Then knocks on the door again, a bit louder this time. He adds "Hello? The door appears to be stuck." hoping someone inside would be inclined to react.

Roald takes a few steps back.
'' There's smoke coming out of the chimney, maybe they're in the back, cooking ''
He realizes that this far fetched conclusion is more wishful thinking than anything else, but his stomach is rumbling none the less.

"Is your daddy home? Or your mother?" Ezme asks the girl, glancing distractedly Albert and Roald’s direction to try to keep track of them.

"Yes, I think we need to speak with your Daddy or other adults who know about the... zom-bees. Lille skips over correcting Ezme about the domestic situation and leans down over the fence to pat the enthusiastic puppy again. "Have you ever smelled anything strange past those buildings?" Lille asks in Wildspeak, indicating the end of the village that’s supposedly closest to the border.

'' I would like some water if it's not too much trouble, but my friend here will be happy to try your ale.''
Roald looks around the shabby room. There is indeed a fire in the hearth, but no sign of a pot.
'' Is there a place where we can find some food in this village? We've travelled a long way and could use some good food and sleep''

"No, I don’t have a Mommy," Lille replies solemnly. "Or a Daddy. But I had someone who kept me safe and cared about me. That’s what’s important." She tries to smile, but also sounds sad, and seems confused about that part. She pats the dog again absentmindedly. "You’re a good protecter," she says in Wildspeak. "Remember to stay in the house with your pack if something dangerous comes." After another moment of thought, she looks to Ezme and tips her head towards the field the girl indicated.

"I might." Albert answers the old lady as he rustles through his backpack. After a half minute he pulls out an old Deer's Antlers mug. "Will this do?"

He walks over to check out the kettle. It's been a while since he's smelled booze this fresh. "A place to rest would be very welcome, ma'am. All we need is a roof over our heads for one night. No need to go through any trouble."

He hands over the mug. "How much for the ale?"

Ezme purses her lips shut upon hearing the girl's pointed question. She is glad to see Lille pipe up, drawing the attention to herself and away from the suddenly pained trapper. Making a mental note regarding the druid's response, Ezme opts to quickly shift the conversation to a more comfortable topic.

"Though we do need place to stay, perhaps best we chat with your father before you commit to hosting guests...." She starts making her way around the fence protecting the residence, heading toward the field, then pauses to glance back at Theo and Daryl. The two lads stand awkwardly in the road, obviously torn about whom they should be following and trying very hard not to talk to one another about it. "No inn here, I think. We all may need to split between different houses..." Ezme clarifies to them, in case they'd missed that vital piece of info. "But I would like to confirm this with adult." She gestures toward the field and waits to see if they follow.

Lille can’t help but smile at the dog’s enthusiasm, breaking her out of the shared melancholy with the girl. When Theo and Daryl act strangely(again), Lille sneaks a look at Ezme, trying to catch her reaction. She maintains her thoughtful silence all the way into the field, as the dog describes how he once chase a rabbit over *here*, and *this* is the man who gives the best belly rubs. She lingers back a little, unsure of how to start a conversation with the erstwhile fence menders.

Ezme doesn't visibly react, but inwardly she grimaces as Theo follows after them. She'd kind of hoped for a moment's respite from the dour mood. But maybe the lad would lighten up now that he was away from the apparent source of his vexation....

As they all approach the menfolk, Ezme quietly braces herself for whatever reaction she and this other "unconventional" woman would garner from them. As the chatting men pause in their conversation to turn and look, she puts her right fist to her chest respectfully and bows her head.

"Hail be thou, and peaceful tidings from mine to yours," she greets formally. She straightens. "House Felder." Given her observations about local customs, she decides to add her operating name to her greeting: "Ezme. Born of Brahm the Trapper of Dalhurst…" She nods toward her companions. "Walking with me are..." Ezme pauses awkwardly, realizing that she has no clue what houses they belonged to. "... They go by Lille and Theo," she finishes a little lamely, a hint of chagrin flashing across her face.

Roald walks out of the room in the direction the woman indicated. He passes a small kitchen, there is some food on the counter but it's mostly turnips.
Let's hope the woman has a larder somewhere
There is a door in the kitchen barred with a wooden plank, Roald removes the bar with ease.
He opens the creaky backdoor, the hinges are rusted and the door is crooked.
In the small backyard there is no sign of a well, but in the distance he does see a stone circle, he walks over through neighbouring gardens. There are more vegetables to be seen but there is an absence of animals. A few chickens, a cat,... But no livestock, no horses,...
The water is clear, he fills the pitcher by letting it down with the rope.
no bucket?
It tastes sweet and refreshing. Roald refills the pitcher before going back into the house.

'' Could you tell us some more about this village? he asks the old lady.

"I meant payment. Coins?" Albert looks puzzled that the woman would not have realized that. He takes a sip. The ale has a bit of a sour after taste, but other wise it's a fine drink. Especially after their long hikes the past few days. "May I?" He asks, gesturing to a stool before sitting down with the lady's permission.

He listens with interest as she answers Roald's question.

Ezme casts Theo a peeved smirk in response to his snicker.

"No... 'House...' As in-- " she starts to answer the man, but she loses her train of thought upon hearing the father's term of endearment for his little girl. Her gaze wanders their direction as her mind quickly recedes into memory.

She shakes herself, trying to force her attention back to the other fence builder. "... We are delivery crew, looking for lodging as we pass through town...." she manages to explain, a bit flustered.

Lille is confused by all the small talk but looks relieved when Ezme finally gets to the point. "We can trade work for food, and possibly a place to sleep," she offers, picking up from where the trapper inexplicably foundered. "Or trade some of those bits of metal.... Coins," she adds proudly, upon recollection of the right word.

"Army?" Lille inquires, looking confused. "I wanted to ask about the zom-bees. She didn’t seem to know what they are or do, or how you keep safe from them." She gestures to the girl named Lion, currently having her hand licked by the affectionate dog.

"Ah..."

Being a foreigner, herself, Ezme isn't entirely sure what to make of that characterization, but the man seems welcoming enough. Eager to prove her usefulness (and choosing to ignore her exhaustion), Ezmaray thanks Tomaž for the lodging and and offers to help with the fence right away. Consequently, she feels utterly wiped out by dusk. Before entering the house, she rests on a stump under a large maple tree and attempts to take another swig of water, only to confirm that her water skin is completely dry. She lets out a long exhale.

Lille is nearby. An unspoken question hovers around the trapper. She'd been trying to gauge when the timing was right, waiting until they had a moment of relative privacy. Now that moment had arrived. She makes eye contact with the druid girl.

"Your parents.... Did you ever know them?" the trapper asks.

"Well, we could help with that too." Albert offers after the lady talks about jobs around the house. "We're not scared of a little work." He sips the ale, puts it down and walks over to the door. "Let's see if we can stop this one from getting stuck." He takes a good look at the hinges and the sides of the door, trying to figure out where it's gripping the wall or floor.

"Looks like the issue is at the bottom here." He says after a while. "Do you have a hammer and some kind of wedge?"

"We're on our way to uh... the border." Albert says. "We're delivering some things there."

He's a bit worried when he hears the word 'army' "The army? They come here often?"

Ezme is used to being an outsider and is unperturbed by the men keeping their distance.

In response to Theo’s beat up hands, she simply nods approvingly and says supportively, "Look on each hardened hand here and know this: behind every rough callus is soft, virgin skin that once wept in protest. We all grow and change. Sometimes it is painful. But you do well not to let them pigeon hole you."

Lille seems uncertain about the whole army concept that Tomaž keeps mentioning. When Ezme decides to start work on the fence directly, Lille nods her agreement. "I think we will need to speak more about things here, so we’d best get the work done sooner." At Theo’s first grimace of pain, she tries to suggest that he go tell the others where they are. His refusals bring only a shrug in response, but Lille does start to notice the way he periodically glances towards Ezme, and glows with pride at her comment.

While it is strange, his behavior is mostly forgotten by the time they are resting from their productive toil. Lille had readily helped herself to the water barrel after the men refreshed themselves. She leans over and passes her full wooden bowl to Ezme, before settling back to ponder her question.

"I don’t know," she answers slowly. "I was young, maybe four or five, when I came to Jordash, and don’t remember much from before. There was one woman whose face I almost remember... but she wasn’t my mother. My parents were.. somewhere else a lot." Lille gazes unseeing into the distance, struggling to pull the fuzzy memories into focus.

"I was with her, that woman, one night when there was a storm." Her voice falters at the end and she winces. "It was terrible, she whispers in horror. "The horses, so much screaming, and the noise..." She shudders, despite the warm afternoon and recent exertion. "I just ran and ran. Then I found the wolves and lived with them a while. Jordash found me that fall. A good thing too, since it was getting cold and my clothes were muddy shreds. And I lived with him after that," she concludes, returning her focus to the present time.

The trapper gratefully accepts Lille's offering of water and gulps it down as she listens intently to the girl's story. She frowns as Lille finishes her tale. There was a lot to unpack there. Was Ezme really supposed to believe a human child survived with the aid of wolves?? Had the lonely girl possibly gone delusional following the trauma of losing her family?

She chooses to ignore that for now, focusing instead on hearing the complete narrative from Lille's perspective.

"And this Jordash... He was some sort of..." Ezme pauses, her eyes darting up and to the left. "How do you say 'nazítjak'...?" She looks back at Lille. "Man who lives alone...? Helmet!! --No..." Her jaw clenches with annoyance at her own exhausted brain's meltdown. "Like monk."

Lille can’t help but smile as her companion searches for the right word. "Yes, I suppose he was a bit of a hermit. But he didn’t live alone for long. He lived with Granny before I came. She had been dead a few years when I arrived. But she wasn’t his grandmother," she explains. "I don’t know that she had any children or grandchildren. But apparently that was what everyone in town called her. Especially after they stopped being nice to her and she moved away from Olmsford, deep into the forest. She got tired of dealing with people. Some years later, Jordash came along and decided to live away from people most of the time too." She pauses in her explanations, cocking her head to listen to a bird. "It certainly seems simpler," she comments, with an obvious look to Theo. The young man is drinking water with the fence menders and joining in their good-natured chatting.

Ezme follows Lille's gaze. "Yes..." she nods in agreement.

Suddenly, she is less sure about the direction this conversation is headed...

Lille waits patiently for Ezme to continue. When it becomes clear she will not, Lille frowns in frustration, but doesn’t press the topic. "Is that why you left your home to become an adventurer?" she asks instead. "Were you looking to live away from people who..." Her brow furrows a moment as she recalls the right words. "Who would hit a child for thinking a thought or saying something they didn’t like?" Lille seems slightly horrified by the idea, and her volume drops a bit so as not to carry to the others.

Ezme smirks humorlessly and shakes her head as she hands the bowl back to Lille. "I loved my home. I left my home because I had to. I defied the will of someone in charge and-- There was no other way." She stands and shakes her head in frustration. "If I had stayed, they would have forced a new name on me." Trying to mask her growing crankiness, Ezme gestures Lille toward the town center where people seem to be gathering and starts heading that direction. As she walks, she grumbles under her breath: "... Two fracking new names..."

Lille accepts the bowl back and studies it thoughtfully as they head in the direction of the gathering crowd. "I’m sorry," she says simply as they stop to retrieve their packs. She pauses another moment before adding, "But I’m glad you’re here." She gives Ezme a small smile before hoisting her pack and continuing towards the group.

Ezme offers Lille a small smile and a nod in return, knowing the girl had meant no harm with her innocent question. She turns her attention back to the present as she approaches the table.... Hopefully a little food would help improve her mood.

A "little" food was a good way to describe it. As Ezme glances over the meager offering, a pang of guilt burrows within to cozy up alongside her annoyance. These people had so little, and yet they were unquestioningly offering it up to relative strangers. Internally, she hesitates, forming a plan. She doesn't want to offend by trying to offer food now.... She would set traps tonight, and tomorrow morning she would leave whatever she caught behind for the townsfolk to enjoy. Maybe, while she was setting the trap, she could leave out her offering for Wankle.... Yes, that made sense... (Ezme just hoped she wouldn't give herself an infection with this stupid wound she keeps tearing open again and again on her upper thigh.)

Drifting toward the familiar as she thinks, the trapper finds herself standing next to Albert. She gives him a nod. "We spoke with folks. It has been confirmed. There are, in fact, no zombies in these parts... Whatever those are," she says flatly. "Have the rest of you found lodging?"

Gathering that women should stay with women, Ezme stands among her friends and scans the crowd of locals for a female that looks indomitable, but most of them look older and frail, and the trapper isn't sure how they'd feel about having a woman of her manner and physique in their house.... She sighs inwardly, then turns to Lille and Theo.

"If you were to pretend like you two are couple, I think you both could stay with Tomaž," she tells them quietly. "I... I will just stay in barn. I could do with some time alone." ... It wasn't a lie....

"A couple?" Lille says with a blank expression. She is entirely oblivious to the implied gender preferences, but catches Ezme’s low volume and matches it. "Why should we pretend that? And why can’t I sleep in the barn?" Her tiredness is perhaps creeping in at last, and it manifests as a small note of petulance.

Ezme glances skeptically at Hilda, then shrugs. "Very well then."

With that much arranged, Ezme makes polite small talk with the locals while they dine, trying to learn more about the conflict at the border. After dinner she will set traps and leave out her offering for Wankle in the woods.

Lille trails after Ezme in the darkness. Last night she had seen the trapper set out another bottle of blood, and the repeat of the behavior seems especially odd. It was worth following her again tonight to see if she would do it again. Now she is headed back at a safe following distance, hoping to confront Ezme about the meaning of it before they reach the village. But she freezes in place when the voice calls out of the darkness, hand going automatically to her belt for a weapon. She waits a moment, and checks around for anyone nearby before creeping silently forward to improve her view and hearing.

Roald gives his friend a big hug:

'' Daryl,... Think about all the things you accomplished, you already ARE a hero!''

After deciding who is staying where with the help of the locals, Albert ends up in a room with Theo. The news from Roald had caused chaos in his head. The thought of not having his old friend there was a tough one. During the dinner, he had not said anything. He just nodded to Roald trying to seem understanding, but that was just a facade. In truth he was having a tough time.

"I didn't know how to answer Roald's announcement, Theo." He sighs, thinking about about the way he reacted. He will try to fix it in the morning. "I hope he doesn't think different of me right now. You know, we didn't always get along this well." He continues. "Back when he was a customer of my bar, he caused a lot of trouble! Broken mugs, chairs, tables, ... He got into a lot of fights when drunk." He takes a minute to think.

"But I'm glad we had this journey together. Don't give up on a friendship just because of a few upsetting moments. The bond of friendship is stronger than that." He looks up at Theo. "Take it from an old man, Theo. A good friend is priceless!"

At least he felt a bit refreshed, having had the chance to wash and eat a meal. Though it wasn't much, it warmed his tired body. Albert grabs the hempen sack that served as his blanket for tonight and blows out the candle. "Good night, Theo."

Ezme is surprised to receive Roald's news. Granted, she has not known the man for very long, but this turn of events is so unexpected that she can't help but feel somehow responsible. A wordless, bitter disappointment curdles in her stomach as she forces her lips to shape a curt but well-meaning smile of goodbye.

As Roald walks away, Ezme finds herself wondering what would have happened if she had taken the plunge and grabbed the hand he'd offered in that dream world... Well, she would never know. And now this fellow, who'd been so kind and even protective of her, was joining the ranks of so many she'd lost in this life. Gods damn it. Not only was she disappointed, she was annoyed at herself for feeling that way. Sure, he'd been a little dense at times, but it had amused her, and he'd been easy on the eyes. But people leave. Men leave. It's just what they do.

What the hell? Ezme leaves the table soon thereafter, heading straight for the woods. Despite feeling tired, her frustration gives her the energy she needs to keep walking. She goes deep into the woods, leaves her offering for Wankle, and lies in wait for a deer, taking it down with her bow.

Hauling back her kill, at first she is relieved when she hears voices. The night had been long and hard on her heart. By this time she has grown incredibly weary, and she would not turn down anyone's offering of assistance. As they call out, it does not take her long to realize their tone seems off, though. They must not realize who she is?

"It is Ezme, born of Brahm the trapper," she announces through the darkness. "I come with yearling buck for town to enjoy...."

"Lille? Frack if I know." Noting the glint of moonlight on a scythe and reading the distrust of the group, Ezme's anger riles up even more. She cannot help it from slipping into her voice.

"I am House Felder. I come from long line of hunters and trappers down in Dalhurst -- SOUTH of here. And in my country, we reward kindness with kindness. Your people fed my people. I bring you food in thanks. Now. If you want to attack me because I talk different and have different customs, be my fracking guest. But let the first man to swipe at me be him with no conscience, for he will have to live out his days with innocent blood on his hands."

Ezme slams the buck to the ground in front of her and stares down the group. When no one immediately moves, she goes on:

"Otherwise, I politely request that you drop your fracking farm implements and help me carry this blasted buck back to town so that your grandchildren can have full bellies tomorrow. I am fracking exhausted."

Lille listens to Roald’s parting words in silence, staying at the edge of the gathered people. She munches thoughtfully on a crust of bread after his departure. Her gaze flits variously between her remaining companions and the sword sitting untouched amongst them. Finally, when all conversations and focus have drifted away to other things, she steps quietly forward.

She stands for a moment, considering the weapon. It looks odd in Lille’s small hand, as she lifts it awkwardly to test its balance. Then she turns without a word and slips away toward their possessions where she stashes it inside her pack.

Albert had noticed a distinct lack or reluctance to pick up Roald's sword. "Won't you need it on your way home?" Someone mentioned, "But it's yours." another said, to no avail. Roald seemed confident that he would take only safe routes back. That is until he spotted Lille out of the corner of his eye, weighing the blade in her hand. It made Albert smile. At least they will be carrying with them something that will always remind them of Roald. Not to mention the fact that that same blade had once channeled Raynor's power. In the right hands, it is sure to be a powerful artifact.

Since Lille seemed a bit shy about it, he decided not to say anything. It could wait till a later moment.

Ezme walks proudly ahead of the group toward the town as if she had chosen to do so herself. The whispers about her leg catch her by off-guard, however. Had it really bled so much that it showed through her loose-fitting harem trousers?? She didn't want to draw attention to it by looking.

Violence averted for the time being, the trapper keeps her lips sealed, waiting to see if the townsfolk continue to press the issue. If they did, better to have her companions closer by....

As the group moves off, Lille gauges the crowd and then moves in their direction. Slowly and silently she gains on them until she is walking with them, just behind and to the side. She keeps an eye on Ezme, the people nearest her, and anyone who seems very jumpy or aggressive.

Lille tries to be with the crowd but not.

"Are they asking for me?" Lille steps up beside one of the older men in the back of the group, with whom she had worked to mend the fence earlier. The torches cast less light on the edges of the crowd. "I was a bit distracted." She thrusts out a hand to indicate the puppy dog, who has been running in circles around the stopped group. At her gesture, he comes bounding over and licks her hand, then the man’s, going back and forth to show how very exciting it is to be out at night with all his friends. Lille can’t help but crack a genuine smile through her serious expression.

"Go thank Ezme for sharing her hunt," she tells the excited canine in Wildspeak as the men hoist the deer and the group gets moving. The word for Ezme translates roughly as "large new pack member". Lille falls in step beside the man as the pup heads off to deliver his next slobbery greeting.

Ezme is taken aback by the villager's question, "There to meet??" Overwhelmed and momentarily flummoxed, she kneels to shush and pat the pup as she pieces together what these townsfolk are accusing her of. As she strokes the beast and ponders her response, both she and the dog settle -- in stark contrast to the men waiting impatiently for her answer.

She takes her time, then finally returns: "And I suppose next question is, what did I tell my contact?" The trapper rises to her full height and steps toward her inquisitor, looking him in the eye. She continues lowly and slowly, carefully keeping her anger in check. "If you must know, I told her everything. I told her my grievances. And yes, I told her all about this town, about its struggles and its good people...." Ezme's lips turn down slightly. Breaking eye contact with the man momentarily, she addresses the rest of the group: "I was speaking to Larinia, goddess of the moon." She turns back to the man, her voice betraying a touch of bitterness as she continues. "As always, she answered my prayers elusively, with breath of change in the leaves and song of crickets."

Stepping back, Ezme turns to her kill. Gesturing toward it, she announces loudly: "But then she delivered to me this handsome buck, that I might bring him back to you, that your people not go hungry. Praise be to Larinia!"

Ezme turns back to the man, internally daring him to find fault with her testament.

While all this is happening, Albert is enjoying a good night's rest with a roof over his head. A dream enters his mind about a happy puppy barking as they play fetch together. Perhaps a memory of long ago returning to his mind. In the low moon light, a smile can be seen on his face.

Lille briefly tries to circle around the group to Ezme but give up when she sees the others joining up. While her mood has been lightly tense, her expression darkens as she weaves through the group to her companion. By the time she gets there and the man has suggested their departure, she is practically vibrating with anger.

"Come," she says to Ezme, glaring intensely at the spokesperson. "We need to go get some sleep." As they pass away from the center of the group, she adds, "I’m sorry your gift was unappreciated." She continues to look ready to leap on anyone who comes close as they make their way towards Hilda’s house.

Ezme merely grunts in response to Lille, walking with her to Hilda's. She remains mostly nonverbal until she finally retires, though she pauses to give Lille an appreciative (albeit abashed) "Thank you" before curling in bed. Everything about that encounter had been uncomfortable and humiliating. She was more than happy to be out of this place as soon as possible, but... she did desperately need a good long sleep. She should have just gone to bed instead of going hunting. This town be damned. Now her exhaustion would linger into tomorrow...

Collapsed on a floor mattress, Ezme quickly sinks into a deep sleep that, at first, is mercifully dreamless. Some time later, however, images of the prior day start flashing behind her eyes.... The funny mushrooms she'd noted along the road to the village... Theo's grumpiness, and their cautious entry into town... The spirited child in the arms of her loving father... Lille's telling of her past.... The meal, talk of the border, and Roald's sudden announcement... Her distress, the bleeding, the hunt, and the distrust of the townsfolk. Ezme rewatches it all replay before her, a weariness deep in her bones.

"Quite an eventful day..." comments a voice from behind her. The trapper spins, not quite surprised to see the figure from the carnival lounging casually on a leather, chesterfield chair, not unlike the one her father had favored in her childhood home. An ankle resting on one knee, he sits with his tailcoat nonchalantly splayed open to reveal the chiseled figure beneath. He smiles at her with the same handsome face he'd worn when she'd last seen him at the carnival, a sage cigar smoking from his right hand. Beside him, a warm fire crackles.

"You are..." Ezme starts to say. Suddenly her brows leap up with remembrance. "...Dajmirka..." she gasps. Dajmirka. -- "reverie" in her tongue. That's what she had dubbed him two nights ago when he'd refused yet again to give her a name. This -- these flashbacks of her day -- they had been happening nightly, and yet her recollection of these interactions had always faded upon awakening.

Dajmirka waits patiently as she reprocesses this information for what feels like the umpteenth time, a patient quirk on his lips... but then his smile fades.

"A rough day..." he finally continues. He rises and stands before the fire, pushing his jacket back to show off his abs as he tucks his free hand into his trouser pocket. He tosses his head her direction. "Such a shame about Roald. But I have to admit, Ezmaray, I don't mind having less competition." He bats his eyes playfully, smirks, then looks back at the fire, his face suddenly darkening. He takes a brooding puff of his cigar and exhales the smoke.

He turns his whole body to face her, a glint in his eye. "...Those villagers will burn...."

"What?!?"

Ezme's eyes shoot open. For some reason completely beyond her, she is suddenly ... very much ... awake.