Upon reflection, Liv concluded that she MAY have gone a bit overboard with her newfound power. Twenty seven little numerals buzzed all around her little puddle. She’d made them as tiny as she could while still being able to read them to keep them from cluttering up the airspace. In her excitement, she had then moved on to amusing herself by attaching little glowing signs to EVERYTHING. Some were simple, like the dull brown (possibly female?) salamander who sported a plainly scrawled ‘Sally’ over their head. Others were more ornate. It was the first time since all of this began that she’d achieved some sense of normalcy. Returning to her passion and doing some art had let her release a tension she hadn’t even known she was holding onto.

She’d amused herself for an hour or so designing a decorative name plate for Masque as if he was an elite mob in an MMO. Or maybe just a rare encounter, since he didn’t exactly look any bigger or more impressive than the others. Above the red salamander was a circular icon with a sketch of him dramatically bursting out of the water. The border looked like some kind of braided wire, and branched out to underline ‘MASQUE’ written in her fanciest looking calligraphy. Below that line in smaller, more plain script, was the title ‘The Red Death’. She’d even superimposed a little ‘1’ in its own tiny circle on the upper right bit of the portrait frame to make it look like her little buddy had a level marker! Honestly, she was so glad to have something she could do to entertain herself, she was pretty sure she’d eventually doodle up something similar for every critter in her puddle.

She was feeling proud of herself as she watched her little minion squad continue to dutifully dig the low tech hydroponic canal. Ten little amphibians and a plant weren’t exactly a force to be reckoned with, but it was a huge improvement over what she’d had just a few days ago. She couldn’t help but feel proud of them. Sure, they had no conscious idea what they were doing, but they were giving it their all anyway! She should probably name it, but couldn’t come up with any amusing titles for the canal just yet.

The gleeful artist was starting to work on a cute portrait for Wile when a sound like a bugle practically gave her a heart attack. After jumping several inches off the ground in surprise, she turned to look for the source and was surprised to see one of those huge gray, crane-like birds she’d seen the other day. The first one hadn’t made any noise, but this one trumpeted as it zeroed in on… On her canal! She realized too late that her poor salamanders and frogs were sitting right out in the open. They were probably tempting morsels for a large bird. There wasn’t time to move them. The only thing that could move fast enough to intercept it was Bushwhacker and it was too tiny to do anything about the massive hungry bird.

She had to hide them! Protect them! Liv threw herself onto the ground over the top of her amphibious work crew, and instinctively covered the back of her head with her hands to try and protect herself. It was stupid, and pointless. She was an invisible, intangible entity, but she’d acted in desperation. When the light around her dimmed, she assumed the bird was overhead and about to snag one of her little friends for lunch.

But the flapping wings didn’t stop. The sound seemed to pull back, and then circle. Peeking up again, Liv was surprised to see a heavy mist emanating from her puddle. Concentrating on it, she could feel the very slight drain on her SP it created. SHE had done this! Somehow. Time for that question later.

“Hide! Get in the water!!” She ordered, watching as her forces dashed for the puddle. Except for Bushwhacker, who just held perfectly still and looked like nothing more than a little shrub. There was a moment of fear as she noticed her name tags were clearly sticking out the top of the mist, but the bird seemed to take no notice of them.

Liv looked away from the thing for a second, counting her salamanders to ensure they had all made it into the pseudo-safety of the water. The crane seemed to have the same idea, though, and landed near the edge to begin walking into her pond. Then came a powerful whistling sound and a rush of air. She whirled to see what ELSE was threatening her little corner of swamp, and was shocked to see the fletched end of an arrow sticking out of the crane’s chest.

The bird was dead before it even hit the water. It fell with a splash and she felt by far the largest rush of SP to date. She grabbed her belly, groaning at the incredibly sudden and unanticipated feeling of bloating. It was too much! It HURT! Gods, if ghosts could hurl she’d be making a proper mess.

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Hand over her mouth, she quickly dumped some SP into the first thing she could think of, pushing the border of her territory by the log out by about a foot. She breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure lessened. Her discomfort had been so intense that she’d completely missed the approaching footsteps.

The hunter had arrived.

Liv was on all fours, staring at the hunter who had slain the massive crane. He was… a kid? A YOUNG kid too, the little tyke couldn’t be more than three feet tall! Liv’s confusion only grew the longer she looked at him. He moved with none of the clumsy carelessness of a child, and he was wearing leather armor that was too well crafted to be intended for a child who would outgrow it within a few months. The boy took a careful step forward, crouching low and nocking an arrow to a wickedly dangerous looking bow. His features were off, too. Large eyes, but his face lacked the softness of youth and his ears… His ears had the barest little points at the top.

“Oh. My. Gods.” Liv whispered, coming close to stare in awe at the little hunter who seemed entirely unaware of her. A Halfling! IT WAS A REAL HALFLING! HALFLINGS WERE REAL!?! Her mind was practically bursting with questions about what other magical wonders could be in this strange new world. Meanwhile the pint-sized hunter, *ranger* Liv subconsciously amended, smoothly moved forward and began to prod the mist and water, searching for his prize.

“Curses!” He hissed, casting nervous glances all around. He was definitely playing it safe. She wondered if there were more dangerous things in this swamp to have him so on edge. He put his bow over one shoulder to keep it dry and started searching in earnest. Before long he was batting away mosquitoes, grumbling at the biting bugs.

“Welcome to my life, my dude.” Liv said sympathetically. Soon he was soggy, frustrated, and itchy. Meanwhile, Liv was starting to feel overfull again. The amount of SP she was getting out of this Halfling was INSANE. She’d thought the BIRD was a lot. Just the trickle from the skeeters was enough to practically overwhelm her. Frantically she waved the bugs away.

“STOP! NO MORE! PLEASE!!” She begged, and the swarm obeyed.

Eventually the tiny hunter made a triumphant cry and grabbed the dead crane by the neck.

“There you are, you great buggering bird!” He grunted as he tugged a bird almost as big as he was towards the land.

Liv smirked despite her discomfort, amused by the spicy little guy, until the Halfling’s foot came down and she FELT the fabric of his pants gently brush the stone at the bottom of her puddle. The stone was obscured by nothing more than silt and mist, and the flutter of fabric against its surface made her blanch.

—

Logan allowed himself a moment of pride as he dragged the damnably heavy bird through the water. He’d never been the type to take joy in the sport of hunting, beyond knowing he’d provided another meal for his family. However, he might just make an exception for Bog Striders. These buggers were big, and had a notoriously bad attitude.

His attention snapped back to the present as his leg brushed something under the water and the marshy pond fell deathly silent. The dusky skinned hunter froze, taking a moment to scan the mist for threats. His free hand slowly shifted to touch the handle of a knife hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. Slowly the pond came back to life, buzzing and chirping like normal. He sighed with relief, having half expected caiman slithering through the muck.

—

It didn’t hurt. Nothing bad happened, and the Halfling didn’t even seem to notice. Still, Liv felt like she’d been somehow violated. Some very private part of her had been touched by a stranger, even if it had been an accident, and she did NOT like it. Muninn’s words came back to her yet again as the hunter began to clean his kill.

*’Protect your core!’*

Shivering, Liv rubbed her arms and swore to find a way to make that happen asap.

“Marla is going to be thrilled with you.” The man whispered with a smile, talking to his prey. “Roast Bog Strider is her favorite.” Aww. He has a lady to impress! Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head as he heaved the carcass into a tiny backpack, and the ENTIRE BIRD disappeared into it.

“Holy Hella!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands over her mouth for a moment at the sound of her own voice before remembering that he couldn’t see or hear her anyway.

Then the hunter put the pack back on and grinned like he was on top of the world. “Daddy keeps his promises.” He proclaimed joyfully. Not a lady then, a daughter! Liv put a hand over her heart as the warm scene of a devoted father banished the last of the fading disquiet from having had her core touched.

Soon the little man had vanished back into the fog, and the mists she’d summoned finally dissipated. She found herself staring after him for a long while. She hoped he’d come back some time.