As lightheadedly stumbled out into the foggy morning, ignoring the mess that was now covering the inside of the tree trunk. Looking around, the thickness of the mist was appalling. He could barely see a few meters in front of himself. The cold northern air mixed with the warming current to the south. Of all of the days, this had to be the one with the equivalent of clouds touching the ground. The green slushed grass below his talons soaked them. There were no tracks left within the earth. He used his ears, twisting his head up, down, and around, but nothing noteworthy came to his attention, just ambiance and some small miscellaneous beats he heard shrouded within the fog, which he ignored. Now was not the time for finding food. Dashing his way back to the entrance, leaning against the opening with his forearm, where the inside began and the outside ended, he saw what Evic had done. Everything from every sack was strewn about onto the floor: food, equipment, medicinal goods, and all of Wayne’s things were nowhere he could see. Thankfully, at a glance, none of As’ personal gathering tools, nor his blade, nor his dear Owarr scripture had been stolen. Evic didn’t care for those; he only took the one thing he had wanted, and the means by which he would move them.

  As felt horrible. He felt more than horrible. He knew he should have kept a much closer eye on this “wilder,” and Wayne had been right to voice his displeasure after inviting them to join. The only semblance of a current friend he had had in years, gone, as silently as he when he himself hunted for the very rations that lay on the ground. Gaining more of his motion back from the attack, he aggressively threw things into their sacks. No organization was given, and things went into any which one. He just wanted to get things bundled together as they had been. Items convexed the outer lining of the bags, as the owl forcefully threw things into their places. Tying things up, what was left sat, various bulges poking out from every instance of containment. Scanning the room one final time, making sure nothing was missed, his creel and satchel still sat where he had put them the previous night. Dawning them, As made his way outside once more, feeling much more alert and awake. Driving an extra large stick into the ground along the edge of the tree, As could only hope the fog would clear when he returned later in the evening, or rather, if he returned for his things. He knew to be cautious, for the Red Wood was nearby the Exporine kingdom’s boundaries. Could the weasels have collaborated with them again? For this? Not some kind of persistent threat or gain from a grouped attack, but...

  There was no telling if either one of the other two kingdoms actually believed in the real existence of that old myth, of the monument. This, of course, didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. As the scribes of his own kingdom found it important enough to detail, many had attempted and failed to find such a thing. Do they think they can use Wayne as some sort of leverage?

  Stopping himself from thinking too much of Wayne, As shifted to the aim of getting to them, his mission. He couldn’t let them take advantage of him.

  He wouldn’t allow them to steal someone from him again.

  Soaking in the very limited view around him, in a hush, he finally released his frustrations, just like Wayne had taught him during their time together,

  “That fucking bastard.”

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  Evic’s back gleamed with the red of blood, the old scars parted by new. His movements were rigid while making his way around the large perimeter by which the slaves performed in, finally reaching what he called his “bunk.” The structure housing all of the team leaders in the complex was nothing more than a glorified prison cell, with padded chairs, two small tables, a wooden floor, and most well-liked among them, sheet-lined beds and pillows. The everyday slaves beneath them had beds of the stone variety.

  “How’s life treatin’ ya?” One of the heads in the room evilly joked. Too stricken with agony and restlessness, Evic ignored them completely, making his way to his bed and sitting down. He thought of how he had tried to reason with the Boss when making their way to the chained up tree, but it was no use.

  “I’ve had with with your shit. I’ll make you learn.” He remembered them berating whilst on the move.

  He had to rest. He needed to train someone tomorrow for their job.

  “Ey, don’t get any blood on the floor.” Another faceless member told him. “My’be if you did more than the least you could do, this wouldn’t happen, yea’?” Evic stared to his side, then turned to face the front again.

  “Hey, Evic! Check this out!” Scus and Gaffe sat across the room crisscross, huddled around Wayne’s backpack, removing things with their dirty paws. Evic gave a defeated wave of dismissal, as the weasel withdrew a small, reflective chunk made of aluminum and glass. The screen stayed stagnantly black. “What do’ya think this is? I bet we can sell it for somethin’! It ought’a be worth a bit of baux!”

  Evic felt furious. Those were his things they were going through. That was his idea to sell that stuff! He couldn’t bring himself to oppose them. All he could manage was to lay back, carefully, staining his bed sheets. The stinging would stop once he fell asleep.

  Wayne sat in the large stone room, on a stone bench, surrounded by stone cold beds. He sat head-in-hand, dozens of eyes glaring at him, with others not paying any mind. His foot was no longer protected by wood and twine, and it was beginning to ache slightly, though the aching had been climbing very steadily. The captivators had been nice enough to leave him his coat. Many of the captives had scooted or moved away from Wayne, not knowing what exactly he was, but one stayed in place, a mink it seemed.

  “Uh,” the mink started, “What... are you?”

  “Don’t talk to me.” Wayne mustered, his voice not very audible.

  To Wayne, that conversation had ended. He wanted no part in anything. Other words came from the others’ mouth, and they sounded... oddly optimistic, but they still were drowned out by selective hearing, and Wayne didn’t gather anything. Eventually, the words gave up, understanding they did want to be left alone.

  The present wasn’t to be looked forward to, nor was the present.

  The past was.