In another, not that far gone but so seemingly ancient time... My claws... Hands... Would be too close to the fire. I'm like her, like Iishar. I am doing what she showed me back on that day. Only not even my clothes are burning away. Is magic a gift for its strength or a curse for the uprooting it has done to the norms of my sanity?

But, not is not the time to be left thinking about problems like this. Now is the time to be hunting for the abominations known as osibindah. We're to hunt what I am. There's an irony here, one only I can enjoy as I am all that knows, out this far, anyway. I am out in the dangerous wilds with riders armed with guns, swords, and spears. All to hunt what I am.

I need to hide my true nature, yet, for all the pleasures of not being in gory clothes brings... I have to hide. This truth is to be my reality. No matter how hard I plea or pray for it to be different.

A weary sigh leaves me, my eyes shifting from the flaming lick of heat and to one of the iron anklets. Whatever filth remained on the worn, air-scarred metal is now gone. Burned away in the fading orange light of its hardening core. While I am glad to have this memento of home back in my hands, something I lost as far back as my first night in Rose-sweerui's flower. Thinking of home has me annoyed, it's reverting my thoughts back to the topic of before.

This isn't right, such heat should burn me. My skin should sear and scar, the meat underneath tender and juicy as what fat covers it pops and crackles. Yet, that is not what is happening. I feel more inclined to believe a cool breeze will make me shiver than the likelihood of this fire making me flinch with an excited... Ah!

I know it's not the bandages getting in the way of the heat, they too, should burn. Candle wicks that coil around me, unveiling my hideous form to all. It has to be the magic in my system. I've learned so much about osibindah biology in my time as one to know it cannot be anything but magic. A witch's strength.

Regardless, it is an odd thing I find myself longing for. Perhaps I have already gone mad despite all my ruminations and sleepless nights thinking about it. The capacity to have a burning piece of hot iron simply... Burn me. I cannot even close my eyes and see my old pale, browned skin.

I can only see what my open eyes still see to this day-

"Something on your mind, Rose Picker?" a familiar voice asks and I look over at the Mounted-Captain. The officer finishes swaggering up to my isolated spot. His sturdy posture collapses, making it not much of a lonely place anymore.

"Much... Much. Nothing I am telling you of. Though, Mounted-Captain." I tell him, adjusting my cloak's position and hiding the anklet beside myself, in the shadow cast by the bonfire. My claw drops it onto the other one I have back there, tinking the night with a noise it won't likely hear again.

"You are not one of my riders. You don't have to refer to me by my job. You won't draw my ire for the lack of respect. Besides, Rose Picker, having a more casual reception with you may enable me to snatch away a certain..." he lets out, his voice far too relaxed for what he is suggesting. Either way, he chuckles at his humour, devoid of a response from me that he can work with. The spurs of his boots fold inwards, the forward motion of his legs along the ground locking them in. I bring my own feet within my cloak's protection.

"And I have a name my parents gave me. So it would be nice if you used it. Flowerless Man." I half-joke. As, while I don't mind the nickname and somewhat relish in the jealousy of the man... I want to hear my name. My Tobaballian name. The one memory of my home that no one can take away from me so long as my spirit remains.

"Very well, Nin, if you request it."

"Thank you." I answer, bringing us into a long quiet of only hearing the cackle of the orange light as it dances. He clicks his tongue and smiles.

"You forgot my name haven't you?" he brings up out of nowhere.

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"Eh? No... Your name is..." I answer, caught off guard by the peculiar question. I thought we were going to enjoy the silence!?

"Go on," he grins, throwing my thoughts off again.

"Yeah, I forgot it." I say, giving up with the attempt to placate him.

"Henipiotch." the man extravagants with a kissing motion. Yet, despite all his looks and confidence, I doubt Mistress Wind is swooning for him when there are far more beautiful voices being carried by it.

"Henip." I shorthand, earning a slight glare from the proud foreigner.

"So, is something on your mind? You have not spoken much since coming back to us. And Neeameth has me concerned. While I am aware, I am not here with grizzled and scarred men and women. They're still Valley-Riders of a Ravineer territory."

"I already told you I am not interested in speaking about it." I dismiss, turning away slightly.

"What is on your mind can stay in your mind. But. When it comes to one of my riders, -you will- speak," he explains to me, straightening my back out in a way only an experienced disciplinarian can do.

"I don't know what there is to say, then. I grabbed a bug. She was scared by it. I killed it." I answer, almost shrugging at the hard-eyed rider as his tilting hat gives the pair of whites a strange lethality.

"She's hunted osibindah before, she isn't going to just get scared by one." he speaks and I am almost left without word. I do not know Neeameth at all. I don't know what he expects me to say.

"I don't know what you are expecting from me, then. I don't know her." I tell him, getting my thoughts out into the open.

"A little more details on what happened is what I expect," he points out and I sigh as I finally start to feel heat. Though a different kind.

"I had a bug in my grip. That is all there is to it!" I snap bitterly, turning my head fully away as murmuring antics take over my mouth.

"Do not lie to me. I just now. And a few others before have seen you fiddling with something. What is it?"

"Just a bit of metal." I answer, turning back to him with a glare I oh so hope he can see. Quickly snatching up the called out accessories, I protectively clutch them.

"Just a bit of metal," he repeats, his tone making me angry.

"Yes... And it is none of your concern!" I answer, withholding my temper from putting another hole in my legs.

"It is when that bug is a threat to my home. I've seen its shell, Nin. I know full well that is not a normal osibindah," he sits up, putting some strength into his posture and hissing with a boiler hot sigh, "I need you to tell me what you know about that type. It is clear what you took from it has something to do with it."

A sneer develops on my face and I get up to move away from the insufferable captain, "It's stronger than a normal one. That's all you can get from me."

Leaving with an annoyed huff, a lone noise from his lips hooks me right through my invincible shell.

"That one, in particular.... Is someone you knew, isn't it?" he lets out, my instincts suddenly satiated. I grumble and turn around slightly.

"I did not know them! I didn't know any of them... And that's what hurts so much." I growl, so many blank faces coming to mind. So many names no longer in my mind.

"Even if you do not know them. It is as clear as ever that you are familiar with them. With where they are from," he speaks, "And, Nin, I am not your enemy. Calm down. I can understand if this is a touchy subject for you. Crossing into what I've already told you, I will respect the privacy of... But I need you to speak to me."

"There is nothing to speak of!" I snap down at the unfazed man.

"So you have said, so you have said." he repeats, calling my bluff with a slow and steady rise. He crosses the distance and meets my sheltered eyes.

"Then quit pestering me!" I tell him, jabbing at his chest hard enough to at least make him recoil.

"Not until I get a proper detailing of why Neeameth is currently sobbing to herself in her tent," he reminds me, working off the poking and chasing after me at walking pace.

"The bug scared her. That is all there is to it!" I bark forward and his hand reaches out in the shadow of the many fires. It pulls me around to watch crossing arms and a shaking head.

"I'll take your word for it, then. And, luckily, or, rather, unluckily... Depending on how you see it. We are too far from town, too close to official borders. So, I can send her back to town, and you too if you wish," the Mounted-Captain strangely says, his will to carry on vanishing in the face of my stubborn resistance.

"We have only been out for a day." I monotonously drool.

"And all we have found are isolated pockets on the move which we are dealing with. If there was or is an earth shaman, then it is long gone by now. The thing has given us the slip and probably by tunnelling under earth. Maybe a hwardgon mercenary or criminal or something will riddle it to death."

"So when do you want me to go back with Neeameth?" I ask, not caring for the details.

"As early as you can, get her into our building. Let our staff take care of the rest while me and the others go through one or a few more sweeps of the area. Just to make sure we get them all." he explains, tipping his hand and striding off with the slamming of his spurs back into position.

"Fine..." I answer, shaking my head and walking off into the dark for some proper peace and quiet.