BIRDS OF A FEATHER
Iris turned around and looked at the kitsune who was watching her warily with her mismatched eyes.
She had to remember, Akane was not human–or elf or all the other races on Eona. Even Mocha was closer to Iris in a way as her entire time during her growing sapience was spent with the adventurer.
The kitsune’s mind was almost entirely alien to Iris.
Iris took a deep breath, focusing on the vulpine girl. “Akane, I’m not angry with you. I’m worried. What you did back at the fort… It was reckless. You didn’t just endanger yourself–which I understand that sometimes we have to do, but you put everyone else in danger with your actions. Including Mocha–especially Mocha. She has never met another magical creature before you, you represent something she has been missing, so of course she would follow you. What you did to her was wrong.”
Akane’s ears drooped as she studied Iris while her large, vulpine eyes gleamed with understanding.
“Being a part of a group… a party means we trust each other. We rely on each other,” Iris continued. “I had trouble learning that too, but I am. We can’t go around doing things without thinking about how it might affect the others. You could have gotten Mocha killed. You could have gotten any of us killed. As I’ve told both you and the others, sometimes we may have to do things alone, and that’s fine. But that means you do not risk the rest of your party…”
Akane was silent, her three tails stilled behind her as she listened to Iris, the expression on her face uncharacteristically serious.
“We’re not playing games, Akane… No. She-who-loves-pranks-and-chicken. We’re fighting against the Marauder Prince. People are going to die, and I don’t want it to be anyone in our party. When you act on your own, and pull other members of the party into your games, you put us all in danger. Do you understand?”
Akane frowned, her brows furrowing as she concentrated. “Need… Find bad man.”
“Why?” Iris asked, her voice softer now. “Why is it so important to you to find the Marauder Prince?”
Akane’s face fell, her eyes shadowed with the look of one who’d lost someone. “Kill… friend. Sad.”
Iris’s heart ached for the kitsune. “I’m sorry, Akane. I didn’t realize. Is that why you’ve been fighting him? Those poachers were positively terrified of you.”
Akane nodded slowly.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Iris asked, but then she had a flash of realization. “Why did you come to me in the woods? Why were you playing pranks on the farmer?”
A tiny flicker of hope sparked in Akane’s eyes as she focused on Iris. “Need… help. You strong. I watch… do help.”
Iris sighed. “You’ve been watching me help people?”
The kitsune nodded again, a little more forceful this time.
She didn’t know how long the kitsune had been following her, but if she knew Iris was going around helping people, it must have been for some time. Had she been waiting for the right moment to entice Iris to come after her? To test her as she did in the forest to see if Iris was truly strong enough to help get her revenge? Because that is what it was.
The kitsune wanted revenge.
I can understand that.
And it appeared that Akane was perfectly willing to be somewhat patient with it. Which was both good and bad.
Good, because it meant the kitsune was capable of long-term strategy and plans. It was bad only because it meant that Akane was clearly better at it than Iris, herself.
Iris let out a small chuckle and rubbed the back of her head. “Of course, Akane. Us adventurers have to stick together. But we need to do it together and we have to trust each other. And right now, that trust is broken. But we can work on it and build it back up. But! You need to promise me that you’ll think about your actions, and how they affect us all. Can you do that?”
Akane’s eyes weren’t filled with the usual exasperation, except this time she appeared determined. “Yes,” she said with very little hesitation. “Promise.”
Iris smiled. “Good.”
✦ ✦ ✦
As they left the relative safety of the homestead, a thick curtain of morning mist wrapped around them, making the path forward unclear and eerie. The sky was still a dull gray, the remnants of the night’s storm having passed but leaving the day both windy and cloudy. Iris led the way, her senses on high alert, Bree and Gryff on either side. Akane, in her fox form, trailed alongside Bree, her ears perked and tails swaying rhythmically with each stride. Kaira rode atop Mocha while Laken, on his owlbear, followed them at a comfortable pace.
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The wagon trail they were following was narrow and fringed with tall grass, leading them away from the homestead and toward the main road. It was relatively silent except for the sound of their footsteps and the occasional distant bird songs.
Glancing over at Kaira, Iris called out, “Are you enjoying the ride?”
With the wind tugging at her hair and a broad smile on her face, Kaira shot back, “I always enjoy a good ride!”
Despite the morning chill, a rush of warmth spread across Iris's face, causing Gryff to chuckle. “She only does that to make you blush, Iris,” he said as he leaned in close. “If you gave it right back to her, she'd stop teasing you so much.”
Bree smirked at their interaction before turning her attention to Mocha. “Hey, when do I get a turn?” she asked.
The horse whinnied a response, asking Iris to translate.
“Mocha says she only let Kaira on her back because…” Iris paused, mortified. “She...ah, damn it, Mocha. I'm not repeating that.”
Mocha let out a loud whinny, clearly amused. ‘Say it, bitch!’ she demanded.
Iris groaned, rubbing her temples. “Fine. She said she had to keep Kaira and I separated so we don't… uh, mate with our faces so much. We have a quest to focus on, and our sexual tension isn’t conducive to the party.”
As soon as the words left Iris's mouth, a ripple of laughter spread through the group, with Kaira sitting on Mocha’s back looking amused. The cute high elf leaned forward and whispered something to the horse, who let out a whinnying laugh.
Suddenly, Akane trotted up to Bree, yipping happily and lowering herself in a clear invitation. Mocha interpreted for Iris, ‘Akane says the small one can ride, she's the perfect size. Then she can be like me.’
Iris smirked as she turned to Bree and relayed the message like a game of telephone. “Akane says you're the perfect size and can ride her.”
Bree's eyes seemed to light up at the prospect. With a nod from Iris, she carefully climbed onto Akane's back, gripping the fox's thick fur for support. As soon as she was secure, Akane took off, Bree shrieking with surprise and delight as they sped down the trail, leaving Iris and the others behind in a whirl of dust. Mocha whinnied and broke into a gallop, clearly eager to join in the fun, causing Kaira to cheer as they quickly caught the fox.
When they finally reached the edge of the forest, Iris halted them, signaling for quiet. Bree got down off of Akane’s back, who immediately used her magic to transform into her humanoid form.
Akane looked around and narrowed her eyes at the forest. “Magic? Help?” she asked Iris.
Iris nodded. “For Mocha, yes. For everyone else, we will wait until needed. I don’t want you to tax yourself. However, we are going to spread out into groups we want to be within shouting distance, but we don’t want to present an easy-to-locate mass for the harpies,” she commanded, keeping her voice low. Now was the time to be serious. “Laken, Bree, and Owlbear, you're right. Kaira, Akane, you're left. Mocha, Gryff, and I will take the center. Akane… do not leave Kaira's side.”
Akane nodded. “Won’t,” she affirmed as she sent a cloud of mana swirling around Mocha. To Iris’s eyes, it appeared that the spell Akane used was a combination of illusion and alteration, or perhaps a bit of conjuration. Mocha's form was obscured by motes of mana that completely covered her form, and after a moment a sun elf, with long golden hair and eyes that sparkled with awe emerged.
“I look amazing!” Mocha exclaimed, turning to look at herself, her voice filled with awe and a touch of humor. Her horse-like nicker caused everyone to break into a chuckle but was quickly silenced by a look from Iris.
“Focus,” she told them. “Harpies attacked us when we were on the road. I don’t want to assume they’re not around just because we haven’t seen them yet.”
With a series of nods, the group split up.
Gryff, Mocha–now in the form of an uncanny sun elf illusion, and Iris took the center path while the rest diverged to their respective sides. As they pushed into the dense greenery of the forest, the world around them felt increasingly distant, swallowed by the ethereal beauty and eerie silence of the woods.
The hushed squelch of moss and leaves under their feet was the sole mark of their passage as the damp earth muffled the sound of their movement. Overhead, unseen birds chirped sporadically, their songs echoing through the trees that added a surreal touch to the stillness.
Iris was alert, her eyes scanning the tranquil scene around them,
Every creak of branches or rustle of leaves caught her attention and her hand instinctively moved to rest on the hilt of her sword.
Mocha, her elven guise barely wavering, walked beside her with wide eyes that were filled with curiosity as she observed their surroundings.
On the opposite side of Mocha, Gryff moved quietly with his shield and spear at the ready.
They pushed on through the dense weave of the forest, the sounds of the wild surrounding them with its cryptic symphony. Eventually, up ahead, Iris spotted a break in the treeline.
“A clearing ahead,” Iris said to the two with her.
They crept silently on, and as they approached, Iris felt a knot of unease twisting in her gut.
A campsite, or what once had been one, sprawled out before them.
Canvas lay shredded, the skeletal remains of the tents tossed around the clearing. Gryff approached one, his fingers running over the ragged edges, his face grim. “Doesn’t look like it was done by any beast I know,” he muttered, looking at Iris.
She crouched down to examine another ruined shelter, but then something caught her eye. She reached over and moved aside the canvas revealing a long brown feather. She narrowed her eyes as she grabbed it and lifted it, scrutinizing it as Gryff walked over. “What’s that?”
“Harpy feather. It appears that the poachers aren’t having as easy of a time as the other ones did,” she said.
She stood and let out a whistle.
Iris followed Gryff further into the camp and saw the evidence of a violent end. Supplies were strewn about, bowls and pots lay embedded in mud and leaves that gave the impression that the poachers had been attacked during mealtime.
“Iris,” Gryff called out.
She turned and walked to where he stood, her eyes widening.
Humanoid bones, presumably the original occupants of the camp and clean of any remaining flesh, were scattered at the edge of the camp with an eerie white gleam that was harsh against the soft greens and browns of the forest floor.