Round 4: (Swords) Picking Up the Pieces

[BrookSkimmer]

Timballisto swallowed hard. He forced himself to survey the scene before him. This was the cost of battle, this was the cost of fighting for what he and the other cave dwellers held dear. All over the beach bodies lay. Some dead in pools of blood, other still crying out for death. He would not be the one to bring them what they desired. He had done enough of that for one day. For a thousand days!

The steely eyed mouse flicked his crimsoned blade to rid it of what he had just used it for. He closed his eyes and swallowed again, readying himself for what was to come. His nostrils quivered at the scent of death that the sea winds brought his way.

It was late morning after the horrific battle. The fighting had lasted long enough that Tim had lost all track of time until it was over. They had saved their home, but the price was great. Very great indeed. He would not show emotion. He could not. He was their leader and there were tasks to be accomplished before he could shed his mantle and cry out for those who had been lost.

Then there were the raiders. Those who had not died by Swords of Freedom blades had taken to their boats and fled. They would not return. This was not something Tim had made clear to them on their leaving. It was just plain fact. He had seen the look in their eyes as they took for the sea. If they did not fine Kerric Isle they would die at sea. If they did find the island they would be stranded there, living on coconuts until perhaps another vermin ship took them aboard.

Visefang had been seen to first. Tim had made sure the fox was bound tightly with rocks and sent out to sea in a boat with a raked hull. It would sink far out to sea and the horrible fox would be taken to the depths soon after. The other dead vermin would be burned far down the shore from their homes. He did not want the good ocean polluted with their stinking hides.

Now was the time to see to his warriors. They had all been moved to safety after the battle though not all were not awake. Some barely held onto life, other had fared far better. Whatever the case, those unconscious needed to be seen to by whoever was available to help them, even if it be other members of the the Swords.

Gates! The cost was so great, but it had to happen. It was my responsibility to protect these dwellings and these beasts from all others. That has been done.

The mouse noted the flecks of blood covering his body. He had slain many and their marks were on him as well.

This wound to my head will scar. And the one to my lower leg will pain me the rest of my life. But it was worth it. The vermin are gone!

[BloodGullet]

*The early morning tide had rolled in bringing with it the usual collection of flotsam and scavengers to do their work of cleaning the beach. The water had risen high enough to almost completely engulf Golfar. The crabs moved in.

'Golfar' her mother's voice came to her in a whisper as if it was though some fog or vapor, 'the spirit that safeguards these realms will not let you pass right now to join us,' she paused and looked downward in sadness, 'as there is too much blood on your paws.' As her heart was plunged into fear and sadness, the image of her mother had taken her paws in hers and continued, 'however, there is a path to redemption through defending the defenseless, and fighting for truth.' Looking back over her shoulder as if she heard a voice, she went on, 'I give you this, and hope that it helps, as you must see the truth to defend it.' She then touched Golfars forehead and turned away. Before entering the woods and disappearing from sight, her image paused, turned, smiled and said, 'I'm sure we will meet again'. At that the point on her forehead had started to feel warm and then seemed like a shaft of light going through her brain. When it was over, the scene began to waver and she felt herself falling backwards in a spiral.

Cold.   Wet.   Pain.  These were the first impressions coming into her mind as she began to rise toward consciousness. All over her body, tiny cuts, bites, scratches, burns and other injuries were starting to be woken up by the salty sea water and were being added to by the scavengers attracted by the blood in the water.  Her side felt as if some beast had built a fire there and was thrusting a white hot iron into it.

GASP! She raised up enough to draw a painful breath out of the water that had just passed her nostrils.  Flailing with the last desperate strength of the dying, she managed to roll up the beach enough to be out of the water, knocking the crabs away in the process. She landed face down.

Heat. Oppressive, all-consuming heat, bore down on her in waves. Her head spinning in delirium, she flashed back to her training days. Her instructors had a game they called the sundial.  They had a special place that was wide, open and perfectly flat that had a very fine grain of hard-packed gravel and sand, which in the summer, became as hot as a griddle.  For hours they would have the student stand in the middle of a circle with the instructor at one of many positions similar to the hours of the sundial with the student facing away. "Feel the attack coming.  Know how to respond," they would always say.  As the student progressed, more instructors would be added until the maximum of six were achieved.  Any more and the instructors would have a hard time being able to move and strike freely.  For hours and hours they would train at this, enduring not only the many blows from the training swords that would get through, but the incredible heat. "It purifies the spirit and strengthens the body" her instructor would say.

After an untold number of hours, a swarm of some loathsome creatures that comb the beach for food had gathered.  Some winged and some crawling. One of them had gotten brave enough finally to try and obtain a meal.  At this new injury, Golfar grunted and turned over, passing out again from the pain, only to resume being baked, but now only on the other side.

It was late afternoon when her eyelids struggled to open. Caked with salt and sand, she could barely make out the sun.  Breathing in slow, ragged efforts, she thought about her meeting with her mother.  Was it a dream, was it a hallucination? She recalled the beautiful sunset, with the orange and gold and purple clouds, the rays breaking through and the path of the sun on the ocean like a road to paradise, and then the wonderful reunion. No! It was real and stirred in her a fire to live, to complete this new mission, to be a force for truth, to defend the defenseless.  For by this means, she could rejoin her family in the Dark Forest.

Slowly, she was able to sit up and survey her situation. This action scattered the small crowd of opportunists that had gathered.  She ignored them and focused on trying to get up on her feet.  Getting to her knees first, she waited to gather her strength again before trying again.  Little by little, using her sword in its scabbard to help her, she managed to stagger to her feet.

Holding a paw up against the glare of the sun, she continued on down the coast, leaning on her sword, one slow step at a time, each being punctuated by a sharp intake of breath through her teeth from the pain of being jarred.

Eventually, a break in the coastal hills showed a clearing with a slight rise that looked inviting. Her clothes being caked with salt and sand crunched and scratched as she walked, and her bones seemed to creak. Chuckling at herself she said outlaid to no one, "Me timbers be a-creakin'! I guess this tub is getting' a bit dried out!"

Shortly, as she made her way inland and to higher ground, there seemed to be a very small but definite drop in the temperature. Still, her foot paws seemed to be on fire, along with the rest of her.  As she went on, the clearing narrowed and the hills rose on either side with the ground becoming harder and more rocky.  Soon the way became steeper and she found herself stopping more and more to catch her breath which burned like fire through her dry parched throat.

Gathering her efforts again, she sensed rather than heard at first a change in the air. Slowly, as she approached a leveled area, a sound started building that made her hopes leap.  It was the sound of a rushing river!  By now she was in a fairly rocky area that seemed to be the foothills of a distant mountain, and the river must be the run off from the melting snow. She continued with renewed effort toward the sound.  She came upon it quickly as she rounded a boulder, and her hopes seemed dashed, the river was many feet too far below in a deep cut in the rock made by the rushing water over the ages. She found her resolve again and decided to head down stream to where she could reach the water, perhaps where it might widen and slow.

As she followed the river the ground started to slope downward, getting steeper and steeper, until she had to hold onto the small wiry trees that started to grow along side the river. Many times she stopped to sit or stand holding a tree as her head had started to spin from the heat, pain and dehydration.  It seemed this river had no intention of slowing down any time soon. The nearness of the cool life-giving water was driving her mad .  She could sometimes feel a little bit of the spray caught on the wind.  She so desperately needed it for the dry sandpaper of her throat. The trees grew thicker and the way steeper still, with Golfar just being able to slide from thick tree to thick tree over the hard rocky scrabble between them. Soon, exhaustion made her vision blurry and she could not see how far it was between trees.  Misjudging the angle and timing, she continued on past the tree she had intended and started picking up speed. Faster and faster, until suddenly things got worse, the tree were gone entirely and the side of the gorge started rising quickly, moving her toward the river. There was nothing to stop her, and over she went.

As she was already moving forward at a good pace, the shock of entering the water was not too jarring. However, the ice cold temperature took her breath at first, and her downward pace increased dramatically, too fast for her to think of what may lie ahead.  Then suddenly, she was airborne. Flung forward, her arms extended, a small part of her brain pondered rather calmly if this is what birds felt like.  Her view for a split second was of a lush, green valley of tall majestic oaks, until being cut short by the smack of the cold water of the lagoon.

The immediate change of pace was a relief and the force of the impact had stunned and turned her over, looking up to where she had come from.  She could see the sun light piercing the cool, clear water, and with the slow rising bubbles, see seemed to have fallen into some sort of slow motion paradise. She had a sense that this was a healing place, a place to be reborn.

Luckily, the shock of going airborne had caused her to take a deep breath as a reflex, and so was ready for the submersion.  She had no idea how deep the lagoon was or how deep she really was, but she was too tired to try and swim.  The force of the rushing water still created a current in the lagoon and soon she had been lifted up and over to the side as if by two large invisible hands.  She half crawled, half swam up through the shallows to the bank, laying half-in and half-out coughing and wheezing to clear her lung of water.  Eventually, she was able to turn and get a drink, and cold water had never tasted so good.  The cold water (and her trip down the mountainside) had removed all of the salt and sand. After resting her head on a cold slippery rock for a while, she leaned over for a second drink.  That's when she saw the change reflected at her in the still water of the lagoon. Perhaps it was from the effects of the sea water and the sun, and then the shocking cold water and tumbling, or perhaps from some deeper source, but the fact remained that her fur and her clothing were now bleached completely white. It took some time to get used to this new reality, but in some way deep down inside, she knew it was somehow related to her visit to the other side and the change in her purpose. "So, now I am no longer Golfar the Veil, but Golfar the White" she said out loud, then paused and continued, "It seems fitting."

It wasn't long before she began to feel chilled as the tall oaks that grew there kept most of the lagoon in shade.  To one side though, she found a large flat rock and crawled out onto it to rest, dry off and warm up. She thought about her situation.  She was off the mountain, found water and shade, but needed food and shelter. Her pain was almost entirely gone from the salt being gone and the cold water numbing her senses for a little while.  As she warmed up, though, she began to ache again, and this time became aware of just how hungry she was.  She honestly could not think of when she last ate. Sitting up, it was getting near dusk so after cleaning and re-wrapping her wound she decided to follow the river a little ways more and see what she could find.  Presently, she came upon a bend that not only had a large clear bank, but it came with a rocky overhang that ended in a small cave.  She could see it was not occupied and decided this would do for a while. Now, to food, she thought.  Cutting a small branch with her sword and tying the brach to its hilt, she used her new spear to catch several small fish which she cooked over a small fire made with dry branches so as to keep the smoke to a minimum in case some beast was looking for her.  Sitting back on a log, she stared into the fire and remembered a similar time many years before with her sword-master. He had been concerned with his student's relentless driven focus.  He appreciated her progress, but worried about her spirit.  "You are a fine student Golfar," he said that evening, "but the full knowledge and spirit of the lessons won't be able to be part of you until your heart is at peace." Since his student remained silent, he continued, staring at her with deep, wise, old eyes, "Someday, you will know peace, and even happiness. Then, you will find your true purpose." She realized that she was starting to feel a strange sort of relaxation that she had never known before.  Could this be the peace he spoke of? Perhaps, she thought, and actually started to feel hopeful that one day she would fully know this peace that he spoke of.  After it was dark, she put the fire out and pulled a make-shift pile of branches over to her cave entrance so as to hide it from view. She slept as she had not done in years, soundly, and at peace.

Birds high in the oaks announced the start of the day and she awoke to the steel gray dawn.  A fog still lay over the river like a blanket and the air had a slight fishy tang to it.  The sun had not yet arrived so the chill of the night still gripped the air. It took a moment or two for Golfar to get her bearings and recall the huge events of the last day. Examining her now white paws she wondered aloud, "I wonder what will come of all this do-goodin' stuff, . . . and how long it will take for me to end up on the end of a pike?" Her contemplations were cut short when she tried to get up though as the wound reminded her of its presence. "Argh!" She groaned as her eyes teared from the searing fire in her side before collapsing back on to her bed of leaves and branches. Perhaps I will die here . . . . and after all I've been through . . no, must'n think like that . . . I've got to be able to make it to Dark Forest . . . perhaps, some sleep she thought, and drifted off again to dreamless oblivion.

[W0NWILL]

*Nevfae groaned aloud as she stirred, waking to darkness. She attempted to sit up, but waves of throbbing pain laced through her skull, forcing her to lay her head on the sand again. Her eyes were fused shut with blood, effectively blinding her. She lay still, listening to the waves lap gently on the shore. She had gone further than any of the other Swords, and she supposed they hadn't found her yet. She clenched her teeth, repeating over and over that she had to sit up, clean her eyes, and go back to the caves. She sat up. Immediately, her skull cracked in two, and she moaned, but sat, refusing to lay down again. Slowly, the pain receded and she slowly attempted to stand up. In doing so, her paw brushed a slimy, round rock. She grasped it in her paw, wondering what it was. Suddenly, she realised, and yanked her paw up, letting out a cry of disgust. She had touched her severed eye.

Nevfae breathed hard, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat. She let herself sit, with her paws well away from her eye, gathering her strength to stand up. Finally, she did, the pain coming back, though less severe, and lasting a shorter time. She began stumbling toward where the waves sounded. She tripped over rocks and ran into bushes, but eventually felt the sea pull on her ankles, beckoning her. She kept going until she was waist deep and scooped up some seawater in her paws. She rubbed it all over her face, moaning and groaning in pain as the salt stung her eyes. Well, eye. However, a little pain would be better than being blinded on the way back to the caves, right?

She blinked hard, and was relieved that she could see. Well, at least through her left eye. She turned and waded back to shore. When she got there, she glanced in the direction of the caves. It was time to go back. It would be the smart thing to do. Yet she was hesitant. She could just leave. Not have to fight again. Surely there was some peaceful place she could hang up her weapons, never have to fight again. In a fit of rashness that was very like Nevfae, she turned on the spot and began heading away from the caves. She would start anew. It wouldn't be too hard. Though she found herself blinking an unnatural amount, she didn't look back.

Heading away from the caves and inland, she began to move faster, trying to keep her paws from touching the sand, cooled by the night for too long. She found herself looking to the right, trying to compensate for lack of visual information from that direction. Slowly but surely, the land around her began to change as she went further. The scraggly shrubs were replaced by lusher bushes, some with evergreen leaves, others with small buds. These turned to small trees, which in turn became oaks and maples. To the young hog who had only known rocky shores, this was a paradise.

Nevfae came to a bubbling brook, which seemed to sing to her of days hone by. It filled the silence that had not seemed present when she had been walking, and a wave of loneliness crashed over her, drowning her in its sadness. She sat by the brook and let the tears leak out of her eye and fill the empty socket, welling against the dried blood as she knelt to take a drink.
"I-it's okay, friend." She said to the brook, sitting down on the bank, "It's not your fault."
There was a small splash as if in answer.
"Could you keep me company?" She asked, "I could use some." She rubbed under her eye, drying the tears, "I'm tired, I'm sad, I'm lonely, you're the first thing I talked to today." She choked out a dry chuckle, "And you aren't even alive." She smiled through her tears, "Look at me, talking to a river."
The stream burbled on.
Nevfae turned the the east, noting that the sky was streaked with pink, "You'll watch the sun rise with me, will you, Mister River?" She fell silent as the sun peaked over the hilly terrain. The whole scene bringing fresh tears to her eyes, "Lets go, Mister River." She said finally and stood up. As the day got slowly hotter, the brook provided a place to cool her paws.

Mid-morning found her at a small lagoon. Towering oaks grew all around it, throwing it in shade even with their leafless branches. Nevfae crouched by her friend, Mister River, "Thanks for bringing me here." She muttered, surprisingly serious. It didn't last long though, she whooped and jumped into the lagoon. She couldn't stay down for long. She splashed and paddled in the still green waters.

It was rejuvenating, what a good paddle could do. Finally, when she was soaked to the bone, she went to a small little ledge that hung over the lagoon and clambered up. She stayed there with her paws hanging into the water, letting the sun dry her, though she didn't take kindly to waiting around. Finally, she was dry. To her, it seemed to take longer than it actually was. She pulled her paws out and looked around, surprised that no-one had already settled here, but glad that no-one was chasing her off their property.

She skirted the lagoon, heading to the river that fed it. It was slightly wider than her Mister River, but shallower. She wandered up stream, her head moving rapidly to make sure nothing unusual was nearby. She reached a flat, sandy bank belonging to the new river, which she had named Missus River, and an overhang. A wall of branches were at the rear of the overhang, and she brushed them aside, finding a pure white stoat lying prone on a bed of leaves.

Nevfae stared for a few moments before running to the stoat. With a start, she recognised the dreadful injury that matched the one of the stoat she had fought. The one that had taken her eye. The one that had wrecked her bow. Yet, they couldn't be the same. This one was white, and the other had been black. She knelt by the stoat's head, wondering what to do. She couldn't just leave this stoat here, could she? Would her conscious even allow it? Then, she did want the company of another living beast, not just Mister and Missus River. She sighed, and began to pull branches from underneath the stoat to build a fire, "You owe me, stoat." She said, suddenly realising that she didn't know the stoat's name.

She didn't know how she managed it exactly, but she eventually got a fire going near the entrance of the cave. It warmed the small cave quickly, and Nevfae turned her attention to her patient, "Right, I don't know anythin' about healin', so bear with me." She muttered, roughly turning the stoat on her back. Nevfae bit her lip to stop herself from gagging at the wound. She tore several strips from the cape the stoat wore, "Won't be needin' yer fancy stuff anymore." She said, tying the strips together and wrapping it around the wound, "Really, what's with the fancy stuff anyway?"

[Rainshadow]

  *

 The blazing sun beat down on the sandy shore, a harsh sun that cared for nobeast.  Spera had once found this sun to bring beauty and happiness, but at the moment, she felt like slinging a rock at it so she could rest in peace.

 Peace, she thought to herself, her eyes closed as she laid, stomach down, on the scorching sand.  Peace would be very nice right now, wouldn't it, Spera?  She didn't care that she was talking to herself, and she didn't care that she was getting her new dress dirty.  She'd already gotten the dumb thing torn up by the fight with the rat, and it was stained red in many different places.  Of course, she had no clue what it actually looked like, seeing as her eyes were pinched shut and sealed with blood, but she knew that after the battle the previous day, it was bound to look awful.

 Sighing, Spera tried to open her eyes, wincing as pain wracked through her body.  It hurt to breathe!  She wondered for a moment why that was so, then realized that she still had that large gash in her side.  Go away, Mister Gash, she thought.  Leave me in peace.  Let me sleep.  Maybe I'll dream of my parents.  With that, all faded into black, and the young squirrelmaid passed out.

 Spera opened her eyes, feeling refreshed and cheerful, like her usual self.  She stood up, glancing down to see that her dress, the one she'd fought in, was clean and had been mended.  What a lovely surprise!  Glancing around, Spera realized that she was no longer on the bloody shore, but she was in fact in a large, dark forest.  Strangely enough, this didn't seem to bother her one bit, and she happily skipped into the forest, wondering what she could find.

 Before she could go far, the maid heard a quiet voice calling something.  Was that her name?  She spun around, looking for the body to that voice.  Two squirrels, one a dark red-brown colour, and one a light blonde, were walking toward her, smiling.

 "Spera," the blonde, obviously a female, cried, letting go of the dark squirrel to run to the maid.  Usually, Spera would have been slightly frightened if this had happened, seeing as she had no idea who that was, but she didn't feel the least bit threatened right now.  In fact, she was enjoying it!

 "Spera, what are you doing here?" the older female asked, reaching forward to grab the younger's paws.  "You shouldn't be here, not when you're so young!"

 "What do you mean?" Spera asked, searching the blonde's eyes, feeling as if they had met before.  "Who are you?"

 The older, darker squirrel stepped forward, smiling.  "I'm your father, little one.  My name is-"

 "You're Bellus!" she cried, letting go of the other female to embrace him.  "I heard about you from some of the elders!"

 The female, Filia, nodded, saying, "Yes, and I am Filia, your mother."

 Spera grinned even more, letting go of her father to give the same hug to her mother.  After a moment of hugging, she stepped back, saying, "How are you alive?  Where are we?  Did you rescue me from the battle?  How long have I been unconscious?"

 "Spera, dear," Filia said, sadness filling her eyes, "you aren't meant to come here.  It's not your time yet."

 Spera stopped smiling, once again searching the older female's eyes.  "Wh-what do you mean it's not my time?  What do you mean?"

 Bellus cleared his throat.  "You're still needed, Spera.  You cannot stay with us, not yet."

 Spera stood there for a moment, not understanding.  Then realization flooded over her.  "Oh," she said, stepping back.  "We're in the Dark Forest, aren't we?"

 Filia nodded slowly.  "Yes, and you must go back to the shore.  Your friends still need you.  You're the bright little tulip on the cliff, bringing joy to the whole tribe in the midst of sadness."

 The young maid nodded, a tear forming in her eye.  She never knew her parents, and she hadn't ever seen them before.  She wanted to know them!  She wanted to stay!  But she knew that it wouldn't be right to stay here, not when there was so much to be done.  "You'll be here for me later, won't you?"

 Both of her parents nodded, smiling sadly.  "Yes, we'll be here," Bellus replied.  "We'll wait at the gate when you come, but hopefully it won't be for a long while, if you know what I mean."  He winked at her.

 Spera allowed herself a small smile, noticing that the world around her was growing dark.  She reached forward and embraced her parents once more before blacking out, returning to the land of the living.

[Dannflor]

 Frost kicked dust up as she trudged wearily on the shore. It was a sunny day but with blood on the sand and pawmarks everywhere it was not as beautiful as it once was. Her hip was acheing from the blow she got from a vermin. Her head still pounding from the rock she fell on ached as well.finding a tree she lay under it and decided to rest. Other members were picking up the pieces of what she called the storm of storms otherwise the battle. She laughed miserably as she thought of the battle fighting the vermin out of their her land. Her last thoughts were before she drifted of into slumber were the cut up memory's of her Mother. She lay there open to the world hoping that there would never be another raid on this shore again but you can never tell.

[Romsca]

*please delete; wrong thread*

[WarriorOfMossflower]

*
Mist.
That was the first thing Sora Shirosaki became aware of when her pink-red eyes slid open.
It wasn't just any mist, it seemed. This mist didn't feel like the simple, drifting kind that would roll in to the coast from the sea. This mist was heavy, thick, and a little overwhelming. It danced around and across the albino, wet tendrils wrapping and twisting. The damp air clung to her, creating something of a cloak in the way that it enveloped her almost to the point of suffocation. She could scarcely breathe with the moistness clogging her nostrils and fur, the sparkling droplets quivering on the tips of her snowy white pelt. Sora shivered and tried to shake herself free. The mist hesitated, almost as if it did not want to let her go. Another creature joined her, and the mist vanished completely.

Sora could now see her surroundings. Tall, dark trees stood around the bare clearing, ominous yet comforting in a way. The mist had not entirely vanished as she earlier thought. Instead, it had merely retreated. Now it hung near the tops of the pines and firs, its gray shrouds decorating the boughs and leaves like a wet shroud. The albino squirrel turned her attention to the newcomer. It was also a female squirrel, about a head shorter than Sora. She stood as tall as she could, her pale gray fur shining but still dim in comparison to the albino's. She wore a bright yellow kimono. Her eyes were wide, almond-shaped pools of mahogany. They were deep, compassionate eyes that spoke of untold wisdom and age.

The new squirrel spoke. "Do you remember me, Sora?" Her voice was light and sounded like a bell, with a charming and cheerful little tinkle to every word.

Sora shook her head slowly. "I don't believe I've ever met you," she answered truthfully and in a clear voice that surprised her. She had expected herself to sound hoarse and defeated--after all, she was dead, wasn't she? But when the albino glanced down at herself, she found that she looked no different than from when she started the battle against the vermin. Her black cloak was unstained, and her fur and skin were completely in tact. No gory wounds or bloody patches, no painful gashes or nicks.

The other squirrel smiled sadly. "I thought not. It has been fifteen years, after all."

"Fifteen years?" Sora repeated curiously. "Since what?"

"Since they stole you away," came the whispered reply. The gray squirrel looked up again, tears gleaming in her wide brown eyes. She threw her arms around the albino, locking her in a tight hug. However, Sora felt nothing against her fur, not even the slightest brush of a paw. Heedless of this, the other squirrel squeezed like she would never let go.

"It's been so long!" she gasped out, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. She buried her head in Sora's shoulder.

Awkwardly, the albino tried to pat the sobbing gray squirrel's back. To her dismay, her paw dove right into the other squirrel as if she were nothing more than the earlier mist. Sora blinked in shock. Is she...dead? A spirit? And if this is some sort of spirit realm, then why am I here if I'm not dead? At least, I don't think I am...

"You must have a lot of questions," the gray squirrel sniffled softly. She released Sora, stepped back, and wiped the back of her arm across her eyes. "I'm Nyusatsu. Your mother."

Sora stared at her, dumbfounded. Mother...Mother! Could she really be... I never knew her because they took me when I was so young.

"I know it must sound hard to believe, but...well, it's the truth." Nyusatsu smiled again, half sadly but half joyfully. "The last we ever saw of each other was that awful summer day when the Emperor's soldiers came and took you from us. They murdered your father, and then me. It amazed me that I didn't meet you here soon after. What happened on the Isle?"

Sora tried to assemble her thoughts and form a response. The Isle... The Isle of Depression. Dan'atsu no Shima. "I...they..." She paused, searching for the words. She began again, slowly. "They took me to the Emperor. For a while, I served at his palace. Later, the Emperor's kin, some other wildcat Lords, came and placed bids on me to see who would keep me. They thought I was rare because of my fur color. Eventually, they all came to an agreement that I would be passed around like some toy, serving a year at each palace of the six wildcats. It was awful. I was almost glad to return to the Emperor, but they threw me in with the slaves not long after I came back. I met a lot of kind slaves who took care of me the best they could. There really was no way to wipe my memory of the trauma and horrible deeds I'd seen in my time away, but they brought me back to a more calm mental state. After that, an old squirrel--Bristle--and I began to organize the rebellion. We fought for several years before we finally broke free. Bristle died on the last day, and the ones of us that were left sailed away from the Isle and never looked back. I went north and joined the Swords of Freedom. We just fought a battle against sea vermin. I think I'm dead, but I'm not sure."

Nyusatsu nodded understandingly and wrapped Sora in another hug. "If you are, there's no cause for shame or tears. It sounds like you lived an adventurous life, albeit short. I'm sorry for everything you had to experience on the Isle, it sounds awful. But I'm sure you enjoyed your freedom and fought gallantly until the end."

Sora forced a smile, though a tear glittered in her pink eyes. "I think I killed their leader," she said quietly, standing still. Her paw strayed to the hilt of her trusty blade, Kaiho. Even in the shades of death it would always hang by her side, it seemed.

"Then chin up, my dear. You've done well. Both your father and I are very proud. But...you don't seem to be dead. You're not misty like I am." Nyusatsu passed a paw through her own shoulder to demonstrate.

"But why am I here if I'm not dead?"

The gray squirrel frowned pensively. "Follow that path," she instructed, pointing to a narrow trail leading east from the clearing. "You'll come to a set of gates. In order to truly be dead, you walk through them and enter the real Dark Forest. This here is just an extra outskirt of it. The actual place is much nicer. But if the gates are barred and you can't get through, you're still alive."

Sora nodded. "Okay. And...thank you, Haha," she whispered, using the Japanese word for 'mother'. "I might see you soon."

Nyusatsu patted her daughter's shoulder. "As much as I would like that, I hope not. You have a full life ahead that you deserve to live."

Sora smiled and twitched her bent ear in a form of salute. I have a feeling I'll be back anyways, but it's okay. My brief preview was pleasant. With that, she turned and set her footpaws on the path. She travelled with her head down, lost in thought. I have had a good life. I'm ready to come here and be with my mother, but... I still haven't said goodbye to the Swords. Before I die, I'd like to do that. I have to thank them for everything. And I have to thank my friends and fallen comrades from Dan'atsu no Shima. I could do that part privately after I'm really dead, but somehow it feels better to do when I'm in the land of the living. Sora was so deep in her musings that she didn't notice the gates until she walked right into them!

They were very tall and wide, with painted black bars. They seemed foreboding in a way, but they also spoke of better things. Faintly, Sora could see something on the other side, though the heavy fog had clouded the area again. The albino smiled, knowing that she'd have all the time in the world to explore later. She tipped her head back to see the heavy copper lock holding the two gates together and firmly closed. The Dark Forest isn't ready for me yet, and I'm not ready for it. I want to die with my friends all around me. I want to be able to tell them how I feel about leaving them, and how much I appreciate what they've done for me in the years I've been with them. I'll miss them a lot, but I want them to know that I'll be waiting to greet them into Dark Forest when their time comes. I'll always be with them, physically or not. Keeping those thoughts in mind as she briefly planned out her script, Sora closed her eyes and allowed herself to black out.

The albino came conscious to the swishing of the waves on the sand as the tide came in. Her eyes flickered open. She took a deep breath, just as a wave splashed over her head. Coughing and gasping for air, Sora tried to sit up, but a bolt of pain like hot lightning reminded her of the deep slash stretching from her shoulder to her hip. The albino gave a soft groan and eased back down. All her wounds, now drenched in salty water, burned like fire. The salt crystals also gathered in Sora's fur, clumping together messily. She managed to prop herself up on her elbow, so that at least her head was clear of the tide. Blearily, Sora looked around. Vermin carcasses lay strewn across the beach. Not far from her lay the Captain himself, stone dead. Sora smiled in grim satisfaction. So she had killed Visefang after all.

Victory always came at a price. Those words couldn't be more true, Sora reflected, also taking in the casualties of the Swords. Many were wounded, though most looked like they would live to fight another day. That's good. I would like to be the only one leaving this world today, if there's anything we can do about it. I know they can't patch my wounds up, but maybe there's hope for the others. Nobody here deserves to die.

With a grunt, Sora tried to prop herself up further. She placed both white paws flat on the moist sand behind her and forced herself to sit up. She needed to find somebody--at least one Sword--to say goodbye to! Maybe she could last until she crawled up to the caves. Looking down at the blood soaking the fur around her major wound, and the blood still pouring out, Sora rather doubted her speculation. She'd probably just have to stay put and try not to bleed more than she had to. Sora drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Dark Forest can wait for me a little longer, right? I didn't come back just to sit for five minutes and die again.

The albino's vision went foggy once more. For a moment, she feared that the Dark Forest had another schedule and didn't plan to wait for her any longer. Sora fought to stay awake, but gradually slipped back into unconsciousness. This time, her mind remained blank and without dreams of the tall black gates that awaited her. When she roused herself again, she found that she was nearer the caves, far out of range of the hungry tides. Sora sighed in relief. So I'm not dead just yet. Good. When she glanced again at the beach, she noticed that Visefang's body was absent, and assumed that somebody had sent the vile carcass out to sea for the fish to feed on.

Sora eyed her new surroundings. Somebody, most likely the Swords, had moved her and the other wounded up closer to the caves. Perfect. They're probably all nearby, so I just have to say my goodbyes. I want to get this over with before I start crying. Sora had never liked tears of any sort--not a Dibbun's, not a friend's, not her own. But if ever she did cry, she didn't like others to see her tears. To her, crying seemed to be infectious. And she hated to make others dwell together with her in misery. She wanted them to be happy, to celebrate their victory and continue life without her. It was Sora's one wish.

[Rainshadow]

  Spera's eyes snapped open and she sat up, coughing as she tried to inhale.  She had obviously been lying on her face, because she was spitting sand out of her mouth, hating the feeling of it on her tongue.  What had just happened?  Had she died?  She couldn't have, or she wouldn't be here!

  Spera sat there for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts before she realized that she was actually hurting herself.  Sitting in such a position made the wound to her side bend in an awkward way, breaking the scab that had formed on it.  Blood started oozing out, causing her to grunt and squint her eyes, grinding her teeth to hold back the scream forming.

  The maid stuck a paw to her side, struggling to stand up and stanch the blood running down her dress.  Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as she stood, her vision starting to black out.  She fought back the urge to sit down and rest, knowing that such an action could cause her demise, seeing as she knew she wouldn't get back up.  Yes, she wanted to see her family again, but she didn't want to leave before saying goodbye, at least.

  Stumbling forward, Spera waved her free paw about, struggling to stay balanced.  She moaned and groaned, feeling pain running through her entire body, from her ears to tailtip.  Well, ear, she thought, pausing for a moment to feel the stump of her right ear.  She touched the torn, furry mess, which was covered with a scab.  I'm going to miss that ear.

  Starting again, the wounded Sword coughed, spitting more sand out of her mouth.  Nasty stuff, she decided as she coughed again.  Her vision was starting to fail again, the corners of her world turning black.  No! she inwardly cried.  Don't black out, Spera.  Don't do it!  Just a bit farther to the cave!

  She coughed once more, tripping on a piece of what she hoped was just driftwood, not something left over from the battle.  Crying out, she fell face first into the sand, her bloody paw moving forward to catch herself.  She knew that this was probably going to hurt, and she was rewarded with a sharp pain to her wrist.  Her head smacked the ground and she lost consciousness again, but not before hearing a familiar voice in the distance.  Unfortunately, she wasn't quite able to put a face to the voice before her vision faded completely and she lost the ability to think.

  (OOC)

[BloodGullet]

*Golfar came awake with a sharp inhaling of breath from the sudden jolt to her wound. She managed to open her eyes a bit and was able to perceive a blurry figure near the entrance to her cave next to a small fire. As her swirling vision slowly returned to normal, she was able to recognize the beast as the one that she last battled.

Trying to sit up, she noticed her wound had been re-bandaged and wondered to herself what was going on. Was she even aware she was here? Did this hedgehog fix her bandages?  Why did the hedgehog not kill her in her sleep? Should I trust her?  Questions swirled in her mind and none of this made sense. She propped herself up to study the curious apparition in her cave to try and get a sense of her mood.

Once, when Nevfae had turned to one side, she caught a glimpse of the ragged scar and the ruined eye that was left from their battle on the beach. It caused a strange feeling to begin, not quite guilt, but a feeling  of understanding of the burden that this new addition to her appearance will bring.  The beginnings of empathy, and only the start of many other changes.

However, some old habits die hard.  Since she didn't trust someone with whom she just recently battled, and realizing her compromised position, she reached to the side of her bed of branches and felt for her sword, and was relieved to find it still there where she had left it.

"Hey, um, Nevafe, fancy meeting you here," she managed to croak out in a hoarse whisper while propping herself up on her elbow. "Say, mighty fine job of bandaging there, if I say so m'self. I suppose your a-wonderin' how I came to be here, and the recent change to my decor, so to speak.  Well, as to the latter, I'm not sure m'self, but I have my suspicions. Probably just the sun and seawater, but could be something else.  Let me tell you about my travel . . . to the other side. But first, I'll take a drink of cool water." And taking a drink of the water she had left in a crude wooden bowl made of a curved piece of bark, she continued on, describing in detail the strange encounter, her ordeal over the mountain, and discovery of her change.

"So you see, Nevfae," she paused, thinking how odd it was to hear herself say these things, and then continuing, "my revenge is complete, the honor of my family restored, but I have a new mission now, to spend the rest of my days defending the helpless and fighting for truth.  Although, what that will mean remains to be seen, but I hope when all is said and done, that I will be able to rejoin my parents through the gates of Dark Forest."  Looking down at the ground she added, "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe or trust me, or think if you thought I was crazy." Then, looking up she said, "but I do want to thank you for helping me with my bandage." All this talking had taken its toll, and had exhausted her so she lay back down on her bed of branches with a sigh.

[Icefire]

*Liv stood on the shores staring numbly at her surroundings. After charging into the battle, Liv had managed to kill a weasel and take his sword. He hadn't been expecting a wounded mouse to attack him with just a dagger! His confusion gave her enough time to punch her shield forward driving the sharp spike into his chest. The rest of the battle was a blur to her. However, the new scars on both her Aegis and her body testified that it had not an easy fight.

The simple act of breathing had become difficult with each breath feeling as though a knife was being plunged into her chest. Her head pounded and there was a constant stinging sensation coming from various cuts all over her body, including her right paw and jawline. Each step caused her pain from her sliced foot paw. Still, whenever one of the tribe suggested she stop and see to getting them bandaged, she simply shook her head. There were so many in greater need of help than she...too many. Sora for example...

Liv winced as she thought of the young squirrel as she had last seen her, lying nearly dead, her white fur stained with blood. Liv swallowed hard. So much pain...

The dead vermin were being moved as the volunteers continued to search for those Swords who were still missing....Nevfae....Spera....there were others. Liv rubbed her forehead as she tried to get her tired thoughts in order when she noticed the corpse of a dead rat lying near her in the sand. His dead eyes seemed to be staring up at her as he lay in a pool of his own blood. Looking around, all Liv could see was death - death and pain. The corpses of the dead were scattered over the shores, staining the sands with blood once more. She briefly wondered how many were now dead because of her. Liv's vision blurred and it seemed to her that she could again see the carnage of the great slaughter of seasons past. She saw her childhood friend Ruth and her little sister Fripple among the dead. She saw her mother's broken body. Turning her eyes to sea, she thought she could see the Sayna bearing away her friends Jason and Philip to fight unknown enemies in strange places. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears, but even this did not banish the visions. Instead, she saw her father lying still and cold as stone after many weeks of suffering. Liv could no longer fight the tears as she considered how many loved ones she had lost. What was left to fight for at the end of the day? What was precious enough to protect when so much had been lost? The more she considered, the more despair filled her heart.

As she fell to the ground weeping, she heard loud, high cry coming from the caves behind her. It didn't take long for her to recognize the voice of an upset mousebabe. She listened as his mother soothed him with a lullaby and gradually her own tears slowed. She took in her surroundings once more and this time saw the volunteers working tirelessly to help the wounded and seek the lost. She saw the home she had fought to preserve....yes, yes, this is why she fought. She fought to preserve life! As she glanced at the rat once more, the joy of life seemed out of reach, but she knew she would never stop fighting to protect those who would find that joy.

Liv Aegis drew herself up once more and rejoined the efforts of the volunteers. As she worked her way down the shores, she saw a wounded figure stumbling along towards her. Liv recognized the figure as she fell and moved as fast as she could towards the figure with a cry.

"SPERA!"

[W0NWILL]

"Hey, lookit. Sleepin' ugly awakes!" Nevfae said when the stoat first awoke, then motioned for her to go on. Throughout the entire narrative, she sat against the cave, tapping her footpaws in impatience. When the stoat was finally done with her story Nevfae stood up and stretched, "Well, stoat, that's fine and dandy. I don't believe that you walkin' away from Hellgates alive, but I do suppose I might believe that you're turnin' o'er a new leaf." She waggled a paw at the stoat like one might do to a young child, "Now, that don't mean I'm trustin' you, so don't try anthin'." I don't think you could win a second time. Nevfae added mentally. It was hard admitting that the stoat had won once.
"Don't go anywhere." She joked as she left the small cave, singing softly to herself,

"Evilbeast hearken,
Listen to me,
Yes, you lowly scum of the sea!

Ne'er ye come,
To our northl'nd shore,
The Swords shall settle the score!

Taking up our blades,
Hitting fast and light,
Aye, we'll be done come light!"

There were more verses, but she had forgotten them long ago. Nevfae splashed across the river, doing a little jig in the centre. It was hard to be unhappy on such a fine, albeit hot, day, and with company, though cranky. Across the river was a small cherry tree, full of budding flowers. In a couple of moon cycles, cherries would be ready to pick. Again, Nevfae wondered why no-one had settled here before. It was a rare spot. She reached up and tugged at one of the branches, pulling until it parted company with the tree. She now held a weapon slightly thinner than her wrist and a little longer than her arm, ready to be used as a staff or spear if needed.

Swinging her newly acquired weapon by her side, Nevfae nearly skipped through the thin forest, searching for edibles. Mint was good this time of year, as was onions, if they could be found. She was pretty sure she knew what both looked like. Pretty sure. Of course, with Nevfae, that meant that you would likely die from food poisoning if you ate what she deemed edible. She let out a cry of excitement when she noticed the wild chives growing in a small patch nearly free of grass. Pulling them up, she bit one right off the plant, grinning as the rather bitter taste seeped into her mouth.

She returned to the cave, her pockets full of the chives, "Miss me?" She asked brightly, plopping down on the sand next to the entrance, throwing the chives next to her after popping another in her mouth, "'elp yershelf." She muttered, placing the branch lengthways across her knees. Nevfae began stripping the bark off with her bare paws. She could make a bow, right? Hadn't she seen Luke make loads of them at the caves.

Ah, the caves. Nevfae blinked back tears thinking of the creatures she had left behind. Some of them she didn't like at all(see exhibit A), and others had been good acquaintances. She didn't know if she could count any of the Swords as close friends. Every other Sword had been so rigid, or at least better at paw-to-paw fighting than her. She felt that every one of them outshone her, leaving mostly talentless her in the dust. She always told herself she didn't mind, and acted like a goofball to cover up her loneliness. As she worked, not really speaking to the vermin, she smiled fondly, remembering her first bow, and her good friend, now dead.


The young ones may only play out of the sight of the ocean. The first rule any young beast in the families learned. Corsairs will see the young ones and kill them, so Nevfae always played with her molefriend Benni up on the cliffs. Even after the attack of Vilu Daskar, the best of friends would unfailingly sneak off and play on the cliffs every other day, even after they grew out of dibbunhood. On one such time, they ran into Luke. He was making a wonderful bow out of the wood of a beech that had fallen in the storm a few nights before.
Nevfae walked boldly toward Luke, facing him, "What're you makin'" she asked, thrusting her scrawny chest forward in a vain attempt to look bold and imposing.
Luke didn't look up from his work as he replied, "A bow. Bows are helpful against corsairs. They don't tend to use ranged weapons, and we have the advantage of attacking from a distance." A morbid smile twisted his face, "Though it's better to see the light fade from their eyes."
Nevfae, intrigued, sat down opposite Luke, as did Benni.
"Zurr Luke?" Benni asked, "Oi 'ears thet you bes needing poin'y shafts furr ee bow."
Luke nodded and passed an arrow to the molebabe, "Pointed ash staves do the trick. Corsairs don't wear armour."
This question/answer went on for quite a while before Luke stood, "Thank you for talking with me." He said, and began walking away.
"Uh, Luke!" Nevfae called, "You left yer bow!"
"Keep it!" Luke called back as he went down the cliffs.
Nevfae grinned and grabbed the bow, "We can be real warriors now!" She boasted to Benni.
Benni nodded, "Loit's goo und shoot ee nasky vurmints!"

Nevfae smiled as she finished peeling the bark. This would be the first bow she ever made herself. She glanced at Golfar, "I never did know, what's yer name?"

[BloodGullet]

*Golfar awoke with the the hedgehog's return.  As she sat up she felt a pain in her side and instinctively put her hand on it, only to feel something wet. Looking at her hand, she noticed it was covered with blood. She had begun to bleed again. "Ah Nevfae, me hearty, it would appear that this stubborn gash o'mine just won't hold m'self in. So, since you have a nice ol' fire over there, perhaps I might borrow a bit of it."

Dragging her sword with her, she struggled over to the side of the fire and propped her back against the cave wall.  Realizing that the hedgehog could have slain her in her sleep, she decided to take a chance and hope that Nevfae's mood would not change. Then she drew her sword. "Oh, don't be mindin' me, matey, 'tis just an old remedy I've seen used many a time for these sorts of things," and saying that she laid the sword out so that a section of the end of it was in the hottest part of the fire, and continued, "not too pleasant a thing to watch though, . . . much less to have it happen to oneself.  But, better than bleedin' out, mind ye.  Now, if this don't work, just remember, you had a mate in old Golfar, even if for a short time."  After a brief time, the sword tip was glowing red hot, which was her signal to start unwrapping her bandage.  This was a slow and painful process and tore several gasps and groans from her before she was finished.  When it was done and she had her strength back, she lifted the sword out of the fire and pausing briefly to get her courage up, she looked up to smile at Nevfae and then laid the red hot brand against the wound, sealing it.  At the first contact there was a horrible sizzling and popping as her flesh reacted to the heat and she could not but help and scream out, only stopping when she passed out.

The bleeding had stopped, but only time would tell if she would survive the ordeal.  She lay by the fire, her breath coming in short, shallow and ragged gasps.

[W0NWILL]

Nevfae closed her eyes as Golfar pressed the sword to her wound. This stoat was quite odd. Could there be a grain of truth in Golfar's story? Oh, she wished she could close her ears as well! The sizzling sound as hot metal pressed against bare flesh was quite sickening to listen to. When the scream stopped, Nevfae plucked up the courage to open her eyes. She blanched slightly at the red wound and took the sword from Golfar's limp grasp. She hurried to the bed Golfar had made and took the bark bowl, bringing it outside. She filled it at the stream and ran back into the cave. Sloppily, she poured water over Golfar's singed flesh, hoping the water would help, remembering all too well the time Benni had died, which her lack of medical knowledge had prevented her from saving him.

Nevfae screeched in shock as her molefriend tumbled head over heels toward the beech. Nevfae hurried down a small path cut into the cliffs, dragging the bow behind her like she had since the day she had gotten it. She reached Benni's broken body and knelt next to him, "Benni!" She shouted into the good mole's bloodied face, "I can help you."
The mole peered at his friend through half-closed eyes, "Oi'm shure you'm can."
"Lesse, I just gotta wrap you in cloth." Nevfae said, panicking.
Benni chuckled, it was forced and blood appeared at his mouth. It choked him, as Nevfae would learn later. His injuries hadn't been severe enough to kill him, "You'm carn't banderge an' 'eal to save your loife."
Nevfae knew this was true, but kept on fretting over Benni, "I'll bring you to the caves, and they can fix you up good!"
"Shure." Benni agreed, "But if'n Oi end oop doiying, slay losto vurmin."
"Don't speak like that!" Nevfae snapped, "I'm gonna go and bring help! Stay here!"
"Whurr am Oi gonna go?" Benni thought to himself as Nevfae hurried away.

When Nevfae came back, he was dead.

Her lack of healing knowledge had brought death then, she wasn't going to let it do it now! The last thing she needed was another death of a friend, or so Golfar claimed, in her life!

Yet, she wondered, could she trust Golfar? Would she trust a vermin she barely knew, and that vermin having attacked her. But as she thought on it, Golfar hadn't seemed to want to fight her. Was there a spark of decency in her? All her life, Nevfae's world had been black and white. Now, she was seeing the shades of grey. Black, then white. Bad, then...good? Golfar was certainly confusing. Nevfae's nature would not allow her to stand by and allow Golfar to die, so, she worked on the stoat, rinsing the blistered skin and singed fur in water, wishing she could do something more. Wished she hadn't left. Wished that the world wasn't so confusing. The sheer vastness of the world washed over her, she was thinking in a perspective she didn't often use. And she was scared.

[BloodGullet]

*
Swirling, spinning, her world was turning and turning in a mist; the only sound a low whisper from a familiar voice "Soon, soon, my dear, but not yet". She slowly became awake by degrees, first smelling an odd combination of leeks and burnt hair, and then awareness of a different kind of pain in her side that told her that the process had been successful.  Instead of a sharp, pinching pain, it was a dull throbbing ache that, although deep, was manageable, at least by her standards. It still made her inhale through her teeth as she slowly sat up. "Hmmm, what's cookin' me hearty, me?" she tossed the question at Nevfae in her odd sense of humor, hoping to get a smile out of her. "Seems as though I've got a right smart doctor with me.  You've done right by me Nevfae, and I'm much obliged" she added, seeing the fresh bandages and the puddle of water which showed that Nevfae  had cared for her while she was out. "I'll be right as rain in no time now!"

A growl from her stomach turned her mind to more important matters now, like food. Feeling a sudden burst of energy and enthusiasm she sat farther up and smiling fired off to Nevfae, "So! How's about a bit a fish for dinner or lunch, or whatever time o'day meal it 'tis?  I'm a might hungry and these leeks would go well with some baked fish, and I know the best spot around here. What with all this snoozin' it gets a bit hard for a soul to keep up with the time, but, me tummy sure knows what time it 'tis! Time to eat!" She said and patted her growling tummy in reply to its rumbling.  Pulling herself up with the stick she used earlier (with a small groan), she then retrieved her sword, making a mental note that it had been moved from where she was by the fire. So, the hedgehog is a right good sort after all. Shame about her eye, but glad she's here . . .  it's good to have company.

It didn't take long to get a couple of fish using her sword and stick as a spear.  The big lazy fish in the shallow waters seemed like they have never had hunters around before and were easy prey.  Soon the fish were roasting on a spit over the fire and Golfar was sitting back relaxing, feeling pretty good about things. "Yep, its good to have you around for company Nevfae.  Say, what say you we head on back to your mates on the coast tomorrow or the next? They might be needin' some help after that battle. Oh, and here, this might help cover that badge of courage ye've got there" and she smiled as she tossed her a cloth strap with a patch that she had fashioned using some cloth from her cape and her dagger. She then set to work to make another veil to replace the one lost in the battle with Skral. "Meanwhile, I'll make m'self more presentable, don't want to be scarin' the dibbuns now do we?"

[W0NWILL]

"I'm not sure if I want to go back." Nevfae began, half to herself, "There's too much killin' and bloodshed." She added louder, "I thought that fightin' for the others in the caves would be fun, but fightin' and killin' is fightin' and killin'. Lives are lives, an' I don't want to fight anymore. If I go back, I will have to fight. I don't want to."

She sighed dramatically and turned the fish before accepting the patch from Golfar, "Maybe I'm overreactin' after me first real battle, the others were just little skirmishes that the other Swords, that's what the defenders are called, The Swords of Freedom. Anyway, the other Swords done most of the fightin'. I did do a bit, but nothin' so real as the fight with you." She paused for a while, "As a Sword, I really am supposed to be strong an' brave an' responsible for the other creatures in the caves, but I'm none of those things." She paused again and smiled wryly, "I'm probably borin' you with me troubles."

Nevfae glanced down at the eyepatch in her lap. She picked it up, feeling the material in her paws before tying the patch around her head. It fit decently, a tad small wrapped as it was around her spikes, but Golfar had made a good estimate. Nevfae smiled slightly, "Thanks." She said. Then, she jumped up and flounced to the entrance, jabbing her new bow in the air like a sword, "Argh!" She cried, laughing, having fun with a corsairs and eyepatches stereotype, "I kin be a pirate now, me cully! One that don't kill, or somethin'!"