The group had settled underneath the nightly shade of a weeping willow, shortly after leaving the cave and distancing themselves from the coyotes.

At this point, it was pretty apparent that they had, in fact, made it beyond the confines of the valley—it was exhilarating as much as it was terrifying. For Andy and Drew, returning to the human world after learning of the hunters out to get their heads, it kept them well on edge. As for Cici, it was almost like touching down on an alien planet for the first time.

As the group recovered and rested their weary legs, Andy had summoned his father's apparition over the crystal ball—the two had been discussing their plans to meet face to face, attempting now to triangulate Andy's current whereabouts.

“Can't be too far away from the camp,” Martin said. “Reckon I know the range y'all came out of.”

“Should we start up a smoke signal, or something?” Andy asked.

“Naw,” Martin said. “Don't wanna draw too much attention to yerselves. I've got a flare gun, I'll signal my location, if you can find a good lookout.”

Andy looked up to Drew. The man shrugged and sat up.

“Guess we'll let you know if we see it.”

Hmm. They were on a bit of a slope, overlooking a good portion of the forest, but still surrounded on all sides by trees. The man figured it wouldn't hurt to try and climb the willow if they really needed it.

“...We should be alright.” Drew said.

“I'll keep a sharp eye.” Andy said.

“Alright,” Martin said as he cocked the gun. “Heads up.”

Pweeeeeeeeee.

Shining bright like a falling star, the flare burned in the distance and illuminated the black sky surrounding it.

“We see you,” Andy said. “…Are you alone?”

Martin scoffed. “Course I am. Said you wanted to see your old man.”

“Just making sure.”

“You can trust me, Andy.”

“I know.”

Standing up, Drew cracked his fingers and signaled to the kids.

“..Cya, dad.” Andy quietly said, cutting his connection and stuffing the ball back in his bag.

The group packed up their makeshift camp—Cici cradled herself in her arms. The normally talkative Xita had gone relatively quiet since the experience in the cave, her eye blankly reflecting the red glow of the flare. She was shivering, wishing for the sweet, sweet embrace of a fluffy blanket…nice enough, then, that she found herself wrapped in lukewarm leather—Drew had supplied her with his coat. Cici graciously accepted, pulling the fabric taut around herself.

“How we doin’?” Drew asked.

“I’m good, just a little chilly.” Cici said.

Man—Andy felt for the poor girl. The guilt he felt was heavy like a truck, having dragged her and this stranger through all of this trouble, nearly drowning, nearly being eaten alive...what was next, he wondered? Were they all about to walk right into some kind of Order trap? Though he trusted his father, this whole thing couldn’t help but reek.

This mission they were on, was it reasonable? Was it safe? Was he putting the lives of others in danger for his own personal satisfaction?

Shaking the thoughts, the boy got to his feet.

“Y’all don’t have to come,” Andy said. “This is my mission—y’all shouldn’t have to be part of it.”

“Too little, too late, kid,” Drew said. “I’m about as much a part of this as you are now.”

Grinning, the man placed his hands on each of their shoulders.

“‘Cause if anybody finds out about our little adventure, I’m gonna have my head put on a spike.”

“Regardless, I don’t think Cici should have to come.” Andy said. The Xita gave him a baffled look.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Think a gal can’t keep up?” She asked.

“Not what I meant,” Andy sighed. “Just—I’m scared you two are gonna end up gettin’ hurt, ‘cause of me.”

“It’s a sweet sentiment, kid, but trust me, I feel a lot better havin’ things this way.” Drew said.

“Yeah—like, I chose to come with you, I’m having fun, dude. You don’t need to feel bad.” Cici said.

Andy sighed. “I guess not, but—”

“But nothin’, now hurry it up,” Drew said. “We’re losin’ light.”

Alright? Alright. The group hurried down a path of beaten grass—nothing manmade, merely the common paths of the innumerable beasts flooding the woods. The rodents, occasionally spooked by the group's plodding, dashed in and out of sight. Little chipmunks, fuzzy squirrels...it was a relief to Andy, to see something familiar again.

But something else stirred in the boy—hunger. He hadn't a thing to eat besides a few soggy sandwich slices, and thanks to the combined efforts of Drew and Cici, his supply was running drastically low.

When he saw those squirrels, his stomach began to rumble. Would be killer to have a nice, hot squirrel melt right about now. He should grab a squirrel. Hunt one up and stick it over a fire and slow roast that sucker.

No? A squirrel? A poor, little squirrel? The boy could hardly stomach the thought. Ugh. Andy'd heard enough of his old man's talk, he figured…or...or, God, this might have been something else.

Andy's stomach growled again. He couldn’t help but to lick his lips. Sweat began to drip down his brow.

Oh man. Oh man, oh man, oh man. Was this the monster talking?

Oh, he didn't care—he was starving…

“Andy?” Drew waved a hand in front of the boy’s drooling face. “Are you good?”

Andy blinked, slowly nodded, and reached into his bag for the last sandwich.

“Man, I’m hungry,” Cici said. “I’m gonna go eat a squirrel.”

“Me too,” said Drew as he casually shuffled past. Andy’s mournful gaze shifted between the departing carnivores and the sopping ham and bread. Its very structure seemed to melt away in his quivering hand. The boy could still taste the blood on his fangs.

No. He refused to stoop to that level. He hadn’t much left to his name, but at the very least he had his humanity. Instincts be damned. There was no way he’d let the strangeness get to his head.

SCREE-EE-EECH!

The poor squeals of some unfortunate rodent, just out of sight. The fresh scent of blood mixing with his own. So sickly sweet. Best to ignore it for now, he thought. Best to let them finish their business. No need to sully his friends' image so soon.

...The squealing went on for a long time. Uncomfortably long, far, far too long. Gritting his teeth, he began to stamp his way toward the source of the sound.

“Fer heaven’s sakes, put the poor thing out of its misery!”

Ba-thump.

The boy’s heart skipped a beat. Through the darkness, a fierce set of emeralds shot toward Andy, glaring green eyes which reflected the moonlight. Tanya stood over Cici, foot planted firmly on her torso—the poor Xita was wrapped from head to toe in thorny vines which sprouted from the earth, muffling her voice, restraining her movements. Drew was nearby, strapped to a tree, his struggling lunch trapped alongside him—a squirrel the size of his stomach. It appeared to be the source of the screeching.

Tanya’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, the Elf unsheathed her blade. Its silver shined brilliantly in the waxing moonlight. She pointed its tip forward. Andy felt his heart sink.

“L-let them go,” he demanded, slight tremor in his voice. He wasn’t read for this, not at all. Tanya, sensing his apprehension, smirked slightly. She took one step toward Andy—he took one step back. She took another step forward—but this time, the boy started running to the side. His fingers fumbled quickly through his bag for something to use, anything to give him an upper hand—he wasn't fast enough. Before he could pull his arm out, he was once more tackled to the ground, the burn of hot silver now gliding just above his throat, roots spiraling up his legs. Grinning, Tanya quickly discovered a sharp sensation—a pencil being jammed directly into her left eye. The girl reeled, falling onto her back. Her mouth stretched wide open, a silent scream trying to be heard. A thick, amber fluid seeped from the wound.

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Andy gasped a few times. He tore up the roots, getting to his feet—looking around, he saw the girl had dropped her knife—Good. He went to pick it up, but even the hilt of the blade would sear his flesh. Instead, Andy would kick it away before starting a mad dash toward his friends. He first got to Cici, tearing up the roots that had her pinned, but before he was afforded much time, Tanya tackled him down the rugged slope.

The two rolled down the hillside, tumbling up and over one another, their sides ramming into various stones, stumps and sticks that seemed to be jutting up all over the ground. Coming to a stop, Andy was already scrambling back to his feet, chest heaving, looking around for something else to use as a weapon.

Tanya, too, found her footing, one hand pressed over her eye, the other blindly grasping for her lost blade—the boy did not offer her the courtesy of finding it. Instead, taking advantage of her distraction, he gripped a thick looking branch. His spine popped, his latent muscles strained. The branch swung at Tanya’s head with all Andy’s might. Half-blind and stuck in the dark, she managed to duck the first swinging, throwing up one arm to block the returning blow—the branch connected with a satisfying crack, and like a baseball getting knocked far into the spectator stands, Tanya was launched into a tree, the back of her head connecting with the oak.

Her amber blood trickled down the bark, the girl swaying drunkenly once back on her feet. Andy swung the branch at her again, but this time the girl’s hardened knuckles punched right through it. The sheer force behind her strike nearly threw her off balance, but it mattered not—the wooden shrapnel flew into Andy’s face, causing him to flinch just long enough for the girl to get a good few strikes in on his stomach, one clean uppercut to his jaw.

The boy was knocked to the ground—Tanya followed up with a jumping stomp, aiming straight for his heart. Andy managed to roll out of the way just in time, however, and using what little time he had to react, he smashed what remained of his heavy branch into the back of Tanya’s knee. It was enough to ground her, force her to fall to her side, the girl barely catching herself—and before she could recover fully, Andy struck her once more in the back of the skull. Tanya spasmed and went limp, falling face-first into the leaves, twitching quietly on the ground.

Once he was sure she was out, Andy fell onto his back, panting into the cool night air. The stars above seemed to spin.

…

Darkness. Blackness. Tanya found herself tumbling down into the infinite abyss that was deep sleep.

The only thing that came into focus was that little girl—Elena—her big round eyes fearfully looking up. A great well of anger boiled in Tanya's chest. She waved her hand out in front of herself, in some vain attempt at dispelling the vision, but it simply remained. Elena continued to stare. Continued dispensing her childish judgment.

When Tanya turned, she was back in the home—the Butcher's shack. Its musty scent perturbed her, made her wish for nothing more than to leave this memory behind.

Tanya blinked, blinked, blinked again, head throbbing as she took it all in. Elena was paused by the entrance to the living room, dwarfed by Davis's large form.

“Elena, that’s Ms. O’Mally. She’s going to be staying with us for a little while.” Davis said.

“Hi,” Elena quietly spoke, giving a timid wave. Tanya remained stiff, this reality setting in, overwhelming her, a torrent that threatened to carry her off her feet and wash her away. A human. A human child, in their midst, under Davis's protection? The sheer audacity, the sheer enormity of its implications, it all hit her like a speeding truck. Every instinct screamed at her to bolt, find the Grandmaster, to report this flagrant disregard for their most sacred laws. Their dogma was absolute. If she must be the one to take action, then so bet it.

Her hands flexed in and out, restless. This child standing here sparked little emotion beyond rage. Tanya reached for her knife…

Suddenly, the floor collapsed out from under her. Once again, she found herself falling, falling, falling into complete darkness, the deep sea of sleep swallowing her whole. Elena watched from above, expressionless as the Elf continued to descend. As Tanya reached out, trying to scream, the little girl’s face began to morph, morph into that of the boy—that miserable, snot nosed brat, that spineless trespasser—Andy Kessler…somehow, it all felt like it was his fault, him and his nosy friends. If they hadn’t been looking for Davis, she would have never gotten locked to this stupid assignment.

Maybe if I’d found them, she thought, caught them right in the act, maybe we could have put this whole thing to rest.

A feeling of shame began to creep up the girl’s spine. She must have known it was never going to work. Looking for anyone to blame, she just wanted to choose the easiest target. What good could she do, after all, in the face of her Elders? Fight them? Run from them? Hide?

When she saw that flare, those three skulking about in the outskirts, Tanya thought just for a moment that she would be able to escape from it all. Those dreams were crushed just as quickly.

Woosh.

Back in the home, everything was clear again. Tanya found herself face to face yet again with the little girl. Elena’s pale fingers tightly wrapped around her blanket. Tanya’s hand hovered over her knife. Her fists clenched, and she, with great reluctance, bowed her head in greeting.

…

When Tanya came too, she found herself tied by her own vines to the thick trunk of a tree. Her one good eye fluttered open, focusing on Andy, who was pulling a bloody rag away from her face—her own bandana, soaked now in her sappy ichor.

Drew and Cici, free from their prisons, stood behind the boy, arms crossed, looking their toughest. A few scratches adorned their faces, but they looked none the worse for wear. Behind them, a fat squirrel was being slow-roasted over a fire—Drew went to tend to it, as Cici continued to play with Tanya's lost knife.

“Well, well, well,” said the Xita. “Look who decided to join us.”

Tanya’s icy face hardly changed beyond a cocked brow. The vines binding her to the tree suddenly went limp and fell at her sides. She took a few steps forward.

“She’s loose!” Cici squealed, jumping back a bit and readying the knife.

“Told you it wouldn’t work,” said Drew.

“Just hold yer horses, everyone.” Andy said. He put his hands up between both girls. Tanya crossed her arms, sneering. It was pretty apparent; whatever fight she had in her, it was all about gone now.

“This ain’t yer usual patrol, is it? What’re you doin’ way out here?”

The Elf ignored him. She turned and began to walk away from the camp, Andy having to cut her off.

“Hold on, you’re still hurt.”

A huff in response. Tanya started walking in a different direction. Andy rushed to keep up, matching her gait as best as he could.

“If ya don’t wait up, I’m gonna have to fight you again!”

Abruptly stopping, Tanya turned to look Andy square in the eye. Even with his recent victory over the girl, he still felt that familiar chill ever so gently caressing his spine.

“...Okay,” Andy said. He put his hands up and backed off. The others watched on, closely, suspicious, as the Elf walked a ways away. She never quite left their sight, retiring to a lopsided stone just out of range of the fire's lashing light. Andy started his way back toward the flame. That squirrel sure smelled good—after that brawl he was starving. No amount of moral fiber was going to stop him this time. He needed a piece of that rodent.

Cici’s focus shifted from the sharp souvenir to her hungry friend. Her head tilted to one side as he passed.

“Are you just gonna let her go?” she asked.

“I don’t think she’s going anywhere,” Andy replied. “At least, not without that.”

Andy pointed—Cici looked between the girl and the knife, shrugged her shoulders and started her way toward Tanya's stoney seat. Tanya, fingers dancing in the air, was casting some sort of spell to rejuvenate her bloody eye. A small sprout grew from the damaged cornea, twisting, growing greens filling the void and reinflating the structure. The sight was mesmerizing, if not deeply disturbing. In moments, Tanya’s eye had been totally restored, clear and iridescent as it was before—her emerald irises cut into Cici’s soul. Gulp.

“Here,” Cici said as she placed the knife on the rock. “It’s yours.”

Tanya, scrutinizing the blade, picked it up near instantaneously, prompting Cici to back up a few steps. Despite the adrenaline telling her to run, though, the Xita remained mostly in place. Her heart pounded as Tanya considered her options with the weapon. With a sigh, she slid it back into its holster. Cici gave a breath of relief, though it was sucked right back up into her lungs when the Elf’s intense gaze returned. What do you want, it seemed to ask.

“It’s pretty cool you can do that,” Cici started. “With your eyes, I mean.”

Tanya quirked her brow and turned away. With her knife, she began trimming the excess growths of bark from her skin.

“Never met a real Scout before. Is it true you guys don’t talk?” The Xita paused in consideration. “If you can’t talk, does that mean you can’t snitch? That’s good. We were probably gonna beat you up again if you snitched.”

Pursing her lips, the Elf stopped her whittling. Tanya gave nothing but a sigh and a defeated look in response. Cici continued.

“So do you like, have friends? Ranger friends? What do you do all day? Play games? I like playing burrowball. Do you know burrowball? It's the game where you like, you have four holes you dig in the ground and you try and kick the ball into the other team's holes? And there's four teams also, like—yeah each team gets one hole, it's a whole thing. Hole thing. Haha. Anyways—”

Before the yap session could continue, Cici found herself being cut off. The two boys seemed to be having an argument.

“My catch, my lunch,” Drew said. “Go get your own.”

“If I remember correctly, I'm the one that just saved yer rear ends from the clink,” Andy responded. “Can't I just have a scrap?”

“No.” Drew said as he took a giant bite out of the squirrel. The Xita's stomach growled. She turned to Tanya.

“Oh, yeah, did you want something to eat? We can get you something to eat.”

Why? Why would Tanya want anything from these looneys? These are the punks that ruined her night, that got a pencil jabbed in her eye. Sure, they took care of her, but, ugh. Whatever. The girl got to her feet.

Walking back over to the campfire, she pushed her way between Drew and Andy, tearing a chunk of the squirrel from the man’s iron grip.

“Hey,” Drew barked. “That’s mine!”

Shink—! The girl's knife pointed right at Drew's face, the air feeling hot around its silver. His lip twitched, angry, but relenting. The girl took a long, thoughtful bite of the stringy meat, maintaining eye contact with them the whole time.

She dared them to say something about it.

Her appetite appeased for now, she threw the remaining bone back at Drew and turned away. In spite of everything, she felt...better, doing that. Maybe it was because she'd finally gotten something to eat, or maybe it was due to taking what she wanted—either way, she felt more like herself now than she had all week.

“So,” Cici droned. “Is she like, staying with us, now?

Staying? Yeah right, she thought. I'm watching over you twerps until you get back within city limits.

For now she'd just play along, though. See where this rabbit hole goes. Their journey wasn't over yet, after all.

The group had a long night ahead of them.