To'brel was putting some of the lessons he'd learned in his time with the people of Dragon's Outpost to good use. Since the various tribes of the hill people had agreed to join in, everything was a logistical nightmare. Jack and Angela were poring over topographical maps while speaking with the various chiefs in an attempt to decide the best place to fight the coming battle. S'haar and Lack'nul worked with the warrior and hunter leaders to determine how to implement Jack's strategy best. The rest of the hunters were working with Lon'thul and Rak'shal to try and feed an impossible number of argu'n gathered in one place. But all that left a significant number of civilians standing around, unsure what to do, with more pouring in daily as the tribes closest to the southern border retreated from the approaching army threatening to undo their very way of life. Organizing and caring for them largely fell on the shoulders of Em'brel, Sare'en, and To'brel.

Em'brel and Sare'en fell into their roles almost effortlessly, with the younger Em'brel assuming most of the work, coordinating a dizzying array of tasks, while Sare'en focused more on the youngest and most frightened of the refugees, comforting them the way she so often did with the animals under her care. Leaving To'brel to manage supplies and distribution.

Thinking of animals under Sare'en's care, To'brel couldn't help but be amazed at how fast Kunes and Kunshee were growing. Both females were now noticeably larger than "little" Grim, but they didn't seem to realize that fact because they still followed the smaller wolgen's lead in everything he did. It reminded the young noble of a lesson Angela had taught about earth wolves when a human researcher mistakenly assumed the strongest male would lead the packs as an "alpha," only to realize later that it was simply the parents who were in charge.

For his part, Grim was a great addition to Sare'en's role as a comforter. At first, the hill people had been understandably terrified of the "monster." But, eventually, one of the younger children courageously approached the "oversized fleabag," as Jack sometimes called him. There was a little tension as the child held out a hand as Sare'en instructed, but soon enough, Grim was rolling on his back, getting all the belly rubs a terrifying beast from a hunter's nightmare could want. Then, after the first child got to ride on the back of the beast, everything changed. Now the kids lined up by the droves to sneak Grim treats or even ride on his back occasionally.

Meanwhile, To'brel's only job seemed to be making sure he could cram as many people into a tent as possible and try to distribute skins to those most vulnerable to the cold. With a sigh, he walked into Em'brel's large open meeting tent. He waited for her to finish dealing with another issue before approaching with his concerns.

Currently, Em'brel was mediating a dispute between two factions within the hill people, rubbing her forehead as if to forestall a headache. "Listen, I understand there is a conflict between your people and the wolgen speakers because of hunting ground disputes, but you've also got disputes with seven of the other tribes present, and the ones you don't have an issue with have various problems with the other tribes we've placed near you to avoid connection with the same tribes you're currently one step away from war with. Please understand this is a short-term emergency measure. You won't be here long, and your conflict with the wolgen speakers seems to be one of the less heated you have. So all I'm asking is to hold your grudge silently for a week or two, then you'll either get to return home, or we'll all be dead or imprisoned, and it won't matter."

The petitioner seemed only slightly agitated as he walked away, leaving To'brel up next. Then, with a differential nod, he approached his cousin. "Ah, I just wanted to let you know that we've finally got enough skins for people's beddings, but we're still short on tents. About one in five families are still sleeping under the stars. I've already spoken with the hunters, and they're focusing on curing the hides of larger animals when possible, but we might want to get some of the workers sewing together smaller hides or working on frames for smaller tents that can utilize some of the skins we have, even if it's only enough to stretch over a bed."

At first, Em'brel looked exhausted, but as To'brel mentioned that he was already speaking with the hunters and presented reasonable alternatives to the remaining problems, she started to look as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders. She looked over to Fea'en, who'd been sitting in one corner of the large tent. The craft master nodded in acknowledgment. "It's certainly doable. We use a similar design when hunters are away from the village for an extended period. It's a little uncomfortable but will keep you warm and dry at night."

Em'brel nodded back. "Sounds like what we need. Go meet up with the hunters, and see what you can do." The craft master nodded in deference, for the first time To'brel could remember, and walked out of the tent with a purpose.

Returning her attention to To'brel, Em'brel smiled slightly. "I hope that helps. Anything else you need at the moment?"

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Not wanting to be a further burden, To'brel shook his head. "Ah, no. I think I've got the rest under control."

As he stepped out of the way, the next petitioner approached Em'brel. To'brel watched his cousin for a minute more as she listened patiently to another issue and made a well-thought-out ruling. It struck the young male that this is what a village lord should be like. Thinking back to his father's rule, he couldn't think of a single time he'd held a meeting for villager petitions like this. The young noble wondered if that hadn't contributed to the village's decline. But, watching her at work, he had no doubt she could run a village much better than his father or even himself. Once this was over, it might be best for him to step aside and let Em'brel reclaim the position of village Lord.

Walking away from the tent, To'brel smiled sadly to himself. It was kind of a relief to think that maybe he wouldn't be village lord after all. But what would he do with himself if not run the village? He'd never even thought of what to do when he grew up because his father had said that would always be his future. Maybe he'd get Chal'ac to teach him hunting or Fea'en to teach him wood crafting. Then, thinking of the frightening craft master, he switched his mind back to hunting...definitely hunting.

With that on his mind, he entered the tent the noble had somehow ended up sharing with Chal'ac. She'd explained to him why it was necessary at the time, something to do with the shortage of materials in the camp now, and it had made sense to him when she'd explained it. However, it wasn't until later that he bothered to wonder why no one else in their camp had bothered to give up their own tent, and by then, it was too late. She'd already moved her stuff in, and he was nowhere near brave enough to openly challenge the huntress by questioning her intentions.

That went doubly so this time because Chal'ac was scowling like she was ready to kill something when he walked in. It was strong enough that To'brel hesitated a second, but her frown shrank a little when she noticed him, and now that she'd seen him, he couldn't think of a good excuse to turn around and leave. So instead, he settled in and tried his best to look sympathetic. "Rough day...?"

Chal'ac looked off into the distance, and her frown deepened a little once again. "Ugh, you have no idea! Every time I turn around, another hunter from one of these tribes seems to be propositioning me! I get it. I'm a hunter and good at my job...better than them, anyway. But they just won't take no for an answer! It's worse than being back in the hunting lodge back home. At least there, most of the hunters had finally figured out I wasn't just enjoying the hunt when I told them to go away!"

To'brel suddenly felt uncomfortable, but he didn't know exactly why. "Did one of them try to...you know..."

Chal'ac's glare hardened. "Did one of them try and claim the kill? No. Well, yes, but Lon'thul headbutted him, and he backed off. The idiot was lucky. I was getting ready to cause more permanent damage before he butted in!"

While he wondered which idiot Chal'ac was referring to in that final sentence, To'brel frowned, reflecting he had the opposite problem. As a younger male who wasn't as developed as his peers, most of their new guests brushed him off completely. Or rather, they would have if they didn't need to come to him to get their blankets and tents. And even then, getting them to bother to listen to anything he was saying was an uphill battle. On more than one occasion, one of the other members of their camp had needed to come to his rescue, metaphorically if not literally. Though, honestly, he had to admit that as bad as things were for him, what Chal'ac was dealing with was probably worse.

That was when the huntress surprised him by turning away and laying down on her bedding, taking off her shirt on the way down. To'brel started to wonder if he should leave or not when Chal'ac looked back at him over her shoulder, a wicked glint in her eye. "Today's your lucky day, kid! I'm going to let you help me relax by giving me a massage."

With that, she turned away, leaving him staring at her exposed back. The young noble started wondering if this was some sort of trap, but she just mumbled into her sleeping pad. "What's taking so long? Get on with it already!"

To'brel blinked a few times before kneeling at the huntress's side hesitantly. He then paused again before Chal'ac reached back without looking, grabbed one of his arms, and firmly placed his hand onto her back. The younger male was so surprised he lingered again before she grumbled. "Are you going to start rubbing, or just sit there touching me all awkward like?"

Finally, if only out of shock, he started massaging her back. At first, all his movements were awkward and ineffective, but eventually, he noticed she'd tense up and then relax and sigh when he hit certain sore spots, so he started hunting for those. While he worked, he couldn't help but notice how toned Chal'ac was. Probably had something to do with all that creeping and crawling in the wilds. Would he get more muscular if he became a hunter? Would others take him more seriously if he did? Would females be more interested in him? Of course, he was with a female right now. A tough, scary, half-naked, and very fit female. Why did she want a massage right now of all times? Was this her way of flirting with him? Did she want him to "claim the kill?" Was this his chance to...

That's when To'brel realized Chal'ac was snoring. The noble had to resist the urge to laugh at himself as he sat back. Of course, she just wanted to relax after a long day, that's all. As he climbed onto his own sleeping pad, To'brel shook his head at himself. He was clearly letting the stress of managing things get to his head. It was obviously just his imagination that he'd seen one of the huntress's eyes glaring at him as he lay down. And her grin was probably just brought on by relaxation and sleep after a rough day...right?