Reima watched with interest while Saela remained focused on her work. She swished around the small ceramic bowl filled with water, crushed up berries, and the still unidentified black powder that had been taken from the hutch. Occasionally she would pause to dip a finger into the concoction to inspect its consistency then adjust the amount of ingredients until what remained in the bowl was a fine black paste.

“What is that powder?” Reima asked.

“Coal dust taken from the mine,” Saela replied. “It helps firm up the paste and darkens the color.”

“Isn’t that toxic?” Reima inquired, pulling away slightly from the potentially hazardous concoction.

Saela chuckled at her worried reaction. “Only if it’s inhaled,” she reassured her. “A little bit on the skin shouldn’t cause any harm.”

“If you say so,” Reima said, not entirely convinced but willing to trust Saela’s judgment regardless. “So Felidae has mines?” she asked.

“Yes. We believe this place used to be a mining town before the ghouls showed up. I’d recommend avoiding it though,” Saela warned. “It’s not exactly structurally stable after being left abandoned so many years ago… but enough about that! Do you have any particular design in mind?” she asked, dipping the brush into the paint and meeting Reima’s steel colored gaze with her own soft baby blues.

“Oh, um…” Reima just blinked at the brush quizzically. “No, I don’t think so. To be perfectly honest, I still don’t really understand this whole mark business,” she admitted.

“Did Falon not explain?” Saela asked. “We use these marks on the face and body as a form of protection against the ghouls.”

“Come again?” Reima inquired, still confused.

“The idea is to mimic the appearance of the young ghouls who have only just begun to tear away at the skins of who they once were,” Saela continued. “Seeing as they don’t attack their own kind, the black marks serve as an illusion to trick them into leaving us alone.”

“That’s…” Reima paused, trying to formulate the right word. Ridiculous? Strange? Way too easy? “Interesting…” she eventually landed on.

Saela shrugged. “It may seem silly but it does help, if only the slightest bit. You definitely shouldn’t rely on it too much though. It’s important to keep an outward appearance of complete disinterest. Any sign of emotion—even the slightest increase in tempo of an anxious heartbeat—will be your downfall if you aren’t careful.”

“Is all this really worth the time and effort, then?” Reima asked. “No offense, but it just seems trivial.”

She was met with yet another shrug from the expecting mother. “Anything to increase your chances of living to see another day, right?”

To that, Reima had no argument.

“So…” Saela piped up after a brief moment of silence. “That design, then?” she offered again.

Reima couldn’t help but chuckle at her awkward attempt to get back on track. “No idea. Just go with whatever feels right. I trust in your artistic vision.”

“Hm! Alright then,” Saela agreed with a chuckle. The smile remained on her face as she dipped the brush into the bowl of paint and raised it to Reima’s face.

“Wait, wait, wait…” Reima said suddenly pulling away. “Why are you laughing?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the gleam in her eye. “You planning on giving me clown makeup or something?” she half joked.

“No, of course not!” Saela laughed. “It’s just that people are usually all about designing their own marks. You, on the other hand, well… you sound like Kaito.”

Reima wasn’t sure what she was expecting to hear, but it wasn’t that. “Really? How so?” she asked.

“Kaito said the same thing when coming up with his design. ‘Just do what feels right to you,’ he told me. Must be a Gedarian thing.”

Reima felt her muscles tense at the unexpected comment. “I, uh…” she started cautiously. “I don’t think I said anything about being Gedarian, did I?”

Saela smiled and shook her head slightly. “You didn’t need to,” she told her. “I recognized the emblem on your jacket the second you walked in here. Don’t look down!” she barked as Reima glanced down at the golden stag head embroidered on her Vanguard uniform.

“Sorry,” she muttered as Saela paused to remedy a smudge on her nose caused by the sudden movement.

“Why so tense all of a sudden?” Saela asked. “Let me guess, the others here have been giving you a hard time?”

“Most haven’t been particularly welcoming,” Reima admitted.

“You can’t blame them too harshly,” Saela murmured sadly. “The outside world’s views on Gederah haven’t been the same since the Tragedy of Ravenvale.”

“Ravenvale?” Reima echoed, her brows furrowing thoughtfully. “The hunting guild decimated by ghouls eight years ago? How was that Gederah’s fault?”

Saela’s hand paused mid stroke and though her eyes stared straight at Reima, her mind seemed to be somewhere far away. Within seconds, she seemed to snap out of it and continued working. “Perhaps that isn’t my place to discuss,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I’m only reciting what was told to me. Please, forget I said anything.”

But the thought was locked deep within Reima’s head now. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for guilds to fall victim to the ghouls. Just two years prior, Uramao had suffered the same fate. Unless… Reima’s mind began to wander back to a conversation she’d had with Kaito the day he’d escorted her back to Gederah.

“They say the ghouls killed them all off, but… I don’t know. Maybe someone survived the massacre?”

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“The ghouls? Is that what they’re saying happened?”

His skeptical reaction to her question hadn’t registered as strange at the time, but now Reima was beginning to wonder—the Hotbloods, the case of the Flaming Arrow—Were these not the only conspiracies the Vanguard was trying to cover? What was more, it was obvious that the Felids knew more than they were letting on, and once again Reima began to question if there was anyone out there she could truly trust.

“That said, might I offer you one piece of advice?” Saela’s gentle voice lured Reima’s wandering thoughts back to the warm glow of the cabin.

“Sure, I guess.”

“You’re skin is quite fair, so I know you’ll need something to keep the sun off of you, but maybe don’t use that Vanguard overcoat?” Saela suggested. “Wearing that insignia around here isn’t helping you in terms of getting along with the others. It may even be dangerous to wear on the hunt.”

“You think we’ll run into any soldiers?” Reima asked.

“No, we’ve never encountered the Vanguard this far out,” Saela reassured her. “Its just, well… Falon’s students, Demeter and Demetrius; they aren’t around much. They probably have no idea regarding everything that’s happened this past week. If they think they’ve run into a member of the Vanguard, things could get ugly very quickly.”

“Are these the twins I’ve been hearing about?”

“Yes, and they’re not the type to give you a chance to explain yourself. They’ll cut you down immediately and without a shred of mercy if they have even the slightest reason to think you might be a threat.”

“Sounds about right,” Reima grumbled. “But I’m not too worried though. I think Falon said they were searching in another area. Besides, I managed to beat Omen in a fight once. How much crazier can these two be?”

“They’re completely different from Omen,” she warned. “And you’ll likely meet up with them eventually. It’s better to prevent a situation rather than risk getting caught in one later. Do you have anything else you can wear?”

Reima thought for a moment. She hadn’t exactly packed a bag before leaving Gederah, and had been living in the clothes she had on her back at that very moment for the past week. There was, however, the cardigan Kaito had given her. The black fabric might get a bit hot, but it beats having my skin fried off, Reima decided. She gave Saela a quick nod, only for the artist to scold her for moving again.

“Sorry!” Reima apologized, feeling like an idiot.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just about done anyway.” Saela set the bowl of paint down on the table and pulled open the corresponding drawer to retrieve a mirror and handed it to Reima.

Having never been one for makeup, Reima was caught off guard by the person staring back at her through the glass. Saela’s design masked over Reima’s eyes and the bridge of her nose with a single pointed stripe running up the center of her forehead like the blade of a thin dagger. Two smaller points sat on either side of the first, and three streaks rand down each cheek with the middle streaks fading out as they reached her jawline. The dark style accented the silver hue of her eyes. Though the design was stunning, it bore an eerie resemblance to the blank white stare of the ghouls themselves.

“Wow,” Reima breathed. “What does this mark mean?”

“This is the mark of the sun wolf,” Saela said.

“Sun wolf?” Reima echoed curiously.

“A legendary creature said to roam the lands of the far north,” Saela explained. “Where I come from, sun wolves are said to be messengers of the gods, and to encounter one is a blessing of sorts. It is believed that a sun wolf’s bite contains enough power to slay a ghoul.”

Reima couldn’t help but snort. “Well, there’s a take,” she scoffed. “No offense, but nothing in over four-hundred years has been capable of killing a ghoul. It just isn’t possible.”

Saela shrugged. “It’s just an old legend,” she reiterated. “Whether the stories surrounding them are exaggerated—or if the animals even exist at all—isn’t really the point. My reason for choosing this particular design is because, much like the sun wolves, we outsiders often perceive Gederah’s legendary Vanguard in a similar fashion. Many people speak of the godlike power possessed by—”

SLAM!!!

Both women were startled out of their seats by the door to the cabin flying open. There, standing in the doorway looking as pissed off as ever, was Kyo. Talia stood over his shoulder, glaring daggers into his back that he so blatantly ignored.

“What the hell is the hold up?” Kyo demanded. “Get a move on, woman! The sooner we get out there, the sooner we can be done with this shit!”

Saela let out a sigh and sat back down while holding her stomach. “Gods, Kyo, you nearly sent me into an early labor!”

At this, Talia easily shouldered her way through the door and shoved Kyo off the stairs and out of sight before elbow dropping on top of him.

“Dammit, Kyo! I told you to wait!” Falon’s annoyed voice barked from somewhere outside. “Talia, get off of him and put the cactus down!”

Reima chuckled. “I guess that means it’s time to get going,” she said. “Thanks for your help, Saela.”

As Reima stepped out of the doorway, she nearly collided with Talia, who didn’t even acknowledge her as she raced to Saela’s side. Falon and Kyo were waiting at the bottom of the steps, with the latter attempting to twist around to remove a cactus prick from his back.

“Ready to head out?” Falon asked.

“Almost,” Reima responded. “Just need to grab a few things from the saloon first.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Kyo groaned. “Haven’t you wasted enough time?”

“You don’t really expect me to go out there unarmed, do you? I’m going to get my dagger,” Reima told him as calmly as she could.

Kyo snorted in discontent, but Falon gave a curt nod of understanding. “Very well,” she agreed. “But do make it quick.”

Reima gave a small nod and made haste back toward the Red Saloon. Upon opening the door to the room she shared with Shergar, she found her snowy-haired friend sitting on the edge of his bed with his head down.

“What are you doing?” Reima asked him.

Shergar raised his head and met her gaze timidly. “Saela… is having anger?” he stammered.

At first, Reima had no idea what he was talking about. Then she remembered how he’d knocked the table in Saela’s cabin over. “What? No, of course not!” she reassured him. “Shergar, it was a harmless accident. Just be more aware of your surroundings from now on.”

Shergar flinched at her words, and Reima wondered if she’d somehow struck a nerve as she traded her military jacket for Kaito’s overcoat and retrieved her dagger from a drawer by the couch. She decided not to dwell on it. Falon and Kyo were already annoyed with her and she didn’t want to irk them further. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the boy to make him so scared of every little thing. As she turned to exit the bedroom, she heard a soft unintelligible whimper that made her pause and glance back over her shoulder.

Shergar was struggling to hold himself together. His shoulders trembled and his eye glistened with tears he was desperately trying to hold back as he stared at the wall.

“Shergar…?”

“Useless…” he breathed shakily, the tears finally finding their way down his porcelain face.

Again, it took Reima a second to figure out what he meant, but once it clicked she felt a pang of sympathy for him.

“You’re still mulling over what Kyo said earlier, aren’t you?” she realized. “For what it’s worth, he got what he deserved. Took a cactus to the ass.”

Shergar just stared at her blankly.

“Eh, you had to be there.” Reima rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Anyway, try not to let him—or anyone, for that matter—get to you, ok? If something like that happens again, let them know you won’t put up with it!”

Shergar dropped his gaze back to the wall, his expression still uneasy.

“How about this…” Reima tried again. “When I get back, I can teach you some moves that will—”

“No!” The sharp exclamation startled Reima. Shergar saw the shock on her face and immediately shrunk back, trying to make himself as small as possible. “No fighting…” His voice was soft, but there was a sort of stubborn resistance that Reima hadn’t experienced from him before.

“You can’t live the rest of your life allowing people to walk all over you,” she told him, trying to keep her own voice gentle but firm. “Not when the entire world is out to get you.”

Shergar was silent. He didn’t meet her gaze.

“Just think about it, okay?” Reima coaxed. She left Shergar with her offer as she gently closed the door and made her way back to where Falon and Kyo were waiting for her near the edge of town.

“Ready to go?” Falon asked as she approached.

Reima nodded as she strapped the dagger to her thigh and pulled the cardigan over her shoulders. “Let’s do this thing.”