[x] Support Aphelia's plan to climb the hill as much as possible to read the terrain and then disappear as soon as possible.

[x] Write-in: Given a chance, such as a suitable hiding spot, a peek at the incoming group would be useful. If any of our group have squadmates in the incomings, make contact and try for an alliance; otherwise retreat for now.

"U-Um!" you cut in nervously into the three-way conversation, and the unexpectedness of your interruption gives Aphelia, Penelope, and Vesna a moment of pause. Your face reddening with the embarrassment of drawing this much attention to yourself, you nonetheless scrounge up what courage you can find and stammer, "M-M-Maybe it's too early to do anything too risky. We can always make other decisions once we understand the lay of the land. B-But we can hide and see who's coming up...if there's anyone from any of our squads."

It's a compromise choice and everyone knows it. It doesn't carry the degree of hostility that Vesna fears, nor does it expose you to the sort of danger that Penelope warned about. It's not meant to please anyone - with the exception of Aphelia, you suppose, who regards you politely with a curt nod - insomuch as it's meant to avoid everyone's worst-case scenario. "We'd best move quickly, then," Aphelia declares quickly, eager to move on and be on their way.

Vesna doesn't seem entirely happy, but she looks sufficiently satisfied with this arrangement. Penelope, for her part, merely regards you with disdain and mutters something under her lips that you don't catch.

Your ascent up the rest of the hill is fairly swift, this in spite of the fact that you are carrying a greatsword up with you. The four of you react with alarm when you accidentally stumble upon someone, but breathe a collective sigh of relief when you realize it's only a supervising instructor. It is fortunate, then, that when you reach the top, you realize that the foliage is relatively thin; compared to the rest of the hill, there is a lower density of trees up here, which allows your team to have a nearly unobstructed view of your entire surroundings.

"We leave in a minute," Aphelia announces, her eyes sharp as she solemnly takes in everything across the horizons. Giving a glimpse at the sun's direction, she then points towards the distant skyline and declares, "North is that way. Remember as much as you can."

You are only passingly familiar with Apaloft's geography; you've seen maps of the region and of Caldrein and even all of Iuryis before, but it's not as if cartography or even map-reading is a skill typically expected of the average Caldran freeholder. As such, you are almost entirely unfamiliar with the geography of the Roldharen forest. It is fortunate, then, that this hilltop vantage point offers a top-down view of the local area. From here, you can see a carpet of trees unfurling itself across the local landscape, covering a roughly six-by-six area in kilometers, punctuated by several hills - just shy of modest mountains - rising in the landscape. You try to remember the position of these peaks relative to the northerly direction, the topography of the region, the limits of the woodlands and thus supposedly the limits of this field exercise. You take into account the blind spots from your vantage point, the areas hidden away on the other side of the surrounding hills. And then the four of you quickly try to match up your map pieces with what you see from the hilltop, making several hunches as to where your map pieces fit in with the landscape.

You let out a small breath of air, wrapping your head around the idea that twenty-eight squads are spread out across forty-or-so square kilometers.

"Time to go," announces Aphelia after a minute is up, and the four of you quickly descend down the hill. Unfortunately, the advantage of not having too many trees obstruct your scouting efforts from the hilltop also means there is very little in the way of hiding spots where you can secretly watch for any other groups coming up. The fact that no one - not even Vesna - objects to the speedy retreat indicates silent agreement on this point. Or at least a willingness to accommodate on Vesna's part.

With your successful retreat halfway down the hill, the four of you eventually slow down to conserve energy, descending the remaining length of the decline at a much more leisurely pace. Sounds of iron meeting iron begin to ring across the forest, the cacophony of conflict, but the lack of alarm from any of the group is a testament to how distant the scuffle sounds.

"Wow," Vesna gives a small, almost resigned laugh as she looks forlornly in the rough direction of the sounds. "Someone's already at it."

"We've only been here for a bit more than an hour too," you murmur, quietly hoping that your internal estimate of time isn't actually off.

"Some team is gonna end up with four more map pieces than us," mutters Penelope with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

"That's enough," Aphelia cuts in, although there isn't as much of an edge in her voice as you may have otherwise expected.

"Assuming that it isn't just some team running into a mercenary," Vesna offers an alternate theory.

"Which one do you think it is?" you ask.

Vesna hums aloud in thought, but Aphelia seems to close her eyes and listen intently for a long moment before she declares, "It's a mercenary." Then, in response to the inquisitive stares from everyone else, she explains, "The tempo and pattern of the clashes don't sound like two apprentices fighting each other. It's more like a mercenary toying with an apprentice to test her."

"Or Lady Ravenhill toying with a fellow apprentice," Vesna suggests with a giggle.

Aphelia gives a soft chuckle. "Can you imagine Ravenhill going easy on anyone?"

The expression on Vesna's face reveals that, indeed, she can't. Nor can you, really. Yes, Sieglinde offered to help you train with your greatsword, and you imagine that's only possible if she has mercy on you, but you don't imagine that's the kind of mercy that will be extended to others in a field exercise such as this. You also wonder, of course, how merciful Aphelia - who is able to fight Sieglinde on even footing - is in an exercise like this, and quietly feel thankful that you share a team with her.

Looking a touch dissatisfied, Penelope demands, "Shouldn't we be making our way towards them to pick off survivors?"

"I'm sure that's what every other squad within half a kilometer is thinking," Aphelia shrugs. "Besides, we have more pressing concerns."

"And what are those supposed to be?" the human scoffs.

Penelope's answer is swiftly answered by her stomach, which allows for a long, slow grumble that is very much audible in this tranquil part of the forest.

"What are you looking at?" Penelope demands indignantly as she glares at everyone else staring at her, although the usual weight of such a threat is greatly diminished by the furious blush across her face.

Ignoring Penelope for now, Aphelia continues, "We're going to have to look for food and water. It's hardly surprising that this is part of the exercise as well." The elf looks at you, asks, "Neianne, how do you fare?"

"O-Oh, um," you stammer, surprised that Aphelia singled you out until you remember that the rest of your team aren't dryads. "I-I-It's just a three-day exercise, so as long as I'm c-careful about my conserving my strength, I can last all three days. B-But having extra energy from food d-doesn't hurt, just in case something happens."

Aphelia nods, taking this into consideration. She doesn't ask the obvious question: Whether or not you'll help them find food despite not truly needing any yourself. Does she already expect you to, or is she simply being considerate in light of current team dynamics? Either way, she instead inquires of the team, "Does anyone know anything about the Roldharen Forest?"

Everyone shakes their head, although Vesna at least offers her insight: "Well, it's not like they're going to throw us somewhere for a field exercise where we can't even scavenge for food."

"It's gonna be a miserable exercise if they want us to climb and fight on just berries," Penelope grumbles.

"There's an entire village of dryads here," Aphelia declares determinedly. "If they can scavenge for food for an entire community, we can too."

That's a very admirable sentiment from your resident elf, but it's also not an accurate one. Contrary to the stereotype of woodland dryads having almost nothing in the way of modern infrastructure, most woodland dryads actually have small patches of communal farmlands scattered across their homewoods in a coordinated effort to diversify their food sources. They're not as organized, coordinated, or well-used as the farmlands of the plains that mass civilizations require, but crops are usually available in the event of a bad hunt or some other form of emergency.

You don't bring this up, though; it's not like you feel terribly offended by the stereotype, even if there's a slightly unpleasant tingling feeling buzzing around in the back of your head. And it's not pertinent to the issue at hand, either, given that the Academy is unlikely to accept "take food from dryad farmlands" as a proper application of your survival skills.

Besides, there isn't a big hole nearby you can duck into to save yourself from the embarrassment of having to speak up in front of a lady of the elven House Treiser, a girl whom you've only been friendly with during short moments of your school life, and a girl who probably hates your guts.

"It's only a three-day exercise, though," Aphelia continues thoughtfully, her previous error remaining uncorrected, "and we weren't given much in the way of supplies for traps."

"I don't suppose anyone already knows how to make supplies out of leaves and twigs?" Vesna laughs awkwardly, knowing that with apprentices still learning how to make use of basic supplies in creative ways, actually creating those supplies in the wilderness is part of the second-year curriculum for those who want to focus on wilderness survival techniques.

Everyone still sees fit to stare expectantly at you, however, in which your only reaction is a startled and flustered shaking of your head.

"So trapping is out of the question," sighs Vesna wistfully, but not so heavily so as to mean offense, "at least for now."

"We can always just scrounge around for stuff like berries if we really have to," Penelope shrugs.

"We don't know if there are edible berries in Roldharen, though," Aphelia notes. "Nor whether or not we can find them in sufficient amounts and quickly to support our activities." After all, a handful of berries seems ridiculously insufficient for three days of hiking, climbing, and fighting.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Penelope shoots back.

"We could try hunting!" Vesna quickly suggests.

"As if we know what to look for here," Penelope snorts. "And as if we know where in the forest they live." After all, despite the fact that the exercise takes place across only the woodlands, there is also the issue of microhabitats forged by topography and terrain, which makes it more likely to find certain types of animals than others. None of you are really hunters yet - save for the apprentices who actually do come from hunting families - but the survival instructors have already begun pounding the ins and outs of hunting to most of you.

"And we don't really have the sort of tools to hunt small game anyways," adds Aphelia, "like birds or hares or whatever." This would indeed be easier if you had an archer in your team capable of shooting down birds or smaller animals. Sadly, the closest thing you have to that is Aphelia's magecraft, and - having seen her spellweaving in action before in a practice spar with Sieglinde - you can't help but wonder if that would just disintegrate small game.

"Why don't we just wait for smoke?" sighs Penelope impatiently, unsheathing one of her daggers and beginning to twirl it between her fingers. "That means someone is starting a fire to cook, and we can jump them for their food and maps."

Although Vesna does not look like the person to get easily angry, she does seem a little impatient and upset when she demands, "May we not try to defeat other apprentices on the very first day of the exercise?"

"It's gonna happen," snorts Penelope, and you notice that Aphelia's expression does not lend itself to the idea that she necessarily disagrees with the facts. "The instructors said as much. What difference does it make sooner or later?"

"Maybe because people would rather stay in this exercise for at least a day to learn something."

Penelope again makes a sound that resembles some hybrid between a snort and a snarl, certainly reflecting a sense of disgust. "Some of us," she declares, "are here for something more that just to suck up, Rainer."

You don't know if Vesna will rise to the challenge, regardless of how hostile Penelope is being, but Aphelia interrupts this with a heavy sigh and instead turns to you without warning, asking, "Neianne."

You have been so entirely content staying out of the increasingly heated conversation that Aphelia's redirected attention catches you entirely off-guard. "Y-Y-Yes!" you squeak, startled.

In spite of herself, Aphelia manages a tiny smile, the sort of smile that one may make when a particularly adorable younger sister - or a pet cat - does something very cute. "You've been quiet for a while. What do you think?"

You blink, not sure what to make of that question and not sure you really want to answer it either. "...I-It'd...be nice if we didn't fight?" you offer hesitantly.

Aphelia actually gives a small laugh at that. "I agree wholeheartedly," she chuckles and shoots meaningful looks at Vesna and Penelope. "But I mean how you think we should approach our food problem."

That is a topic that you actually have an idea about - you've lived in a forest as a child, after all - but also not something you've really ever expected to voice. Attracting attention to yourself - in spite of your desire to change this - has never really been your idea of a good time. "U-Um," you stammer, subconsciously stalling for time, "I don't..."

"We're just bouncing ideas for now," Aphelia notes. "Maybe you thought of something we haven't." Her dignified expression and tone makes it difficult to discern whether she's trying to offer you some comfort or just wanting to get this over with, but it does seem to have the desired effect on your willingness to speak.

"U-Um," you finally relent after a moment, trying to figure out how to express your thoughts into workable suggestions. Tragically, your first attempt ends in failure as you simply state, "there are bears."

Once again, everyone stares at you, and you begin to think that boulder over there is a great place for you to curl up behind and die.

"...Um," Vesna starts with a small, awkward laugh.

Penelope is more blunt about this: "I am not stupid enough to go and hunt a bear."

"N-No!" you stammer in a flustered attempt to explain yourself. "I-I-I mean, I m-mean! There are bears here. T-They must eat too."

"Of course," Aphelia takes your meaning quickly. "And their prey must be large enough to sate their appetites. Deer, elk, maybe even boar." Technically, bears are omnivorous, and you've heard of bears that subsist mostly on a vegetation-based diet, but Caldrein is dominated mostly by the more carnivorous brown bears in the ursine area.

Vesna nods, as if everything about this makes sense to her. "It beats trying to hunt a bear," she opines with a ready smile.

"So," Penelope toes the dirt beneath her boot impatiently, "any idea where we're gonna find game?"

"There must be a water source nearby. A river or stream of some sort. I didn't see anything from the hilltop, though."

Aphelia purses her lips. "I only have a rough image of the map of Apaloft in my head," says the Elsparian elf, "but I don't think any major rivers run through this area. There might be streams, but..."

"They're not the sort of thing that would be easily seen under all these trees..." Vesna agrees.

Hesitating through this entire exchange, you somehow manage to find some more courage before speaking up, "I...th-think there may be a stream to the north."

Aphelia looks at you in mild surprise, asking, "Did you see one?"

"I-I'm not sure," you admit timidly. Then, suddenly worried that the looks everyone else gives you represents disdain for having spoken up without anything of import to say, you quickly stammer, "B-B-But it...looks like the kind of place where you'd find a stream. I'm n-not sure how to explain it." You trail off pathetically as your final sentence ends. It is, after all, difficult to explain that when you stared across the landscape from the top of the hill you are descending, you spotted similarities in the topography between Roldharen Forest and the woods in which you were born. You remember playing with your childhood friends in a nearby stream, the shape of the surrounding lands, and how much it resembles - at least in spirit if not in exact shape - the small patch of woodlands among larger patches of woodlands to the north.

But despite this, Vesna just smiles, looks at Aphelia and Penelope, and chimes, "Let's say we trust her dryad senses. Better her than me guiding us through these woodlands, anyways."

You're not sure how happy you are with the assumption that you just somehow magically know the woods because you're a dryad, but under present circumstances, you're tactful enough not to explain; you're certainly appreciative of the vote of confidence nonetheless.

Aphelia nods after a short moment and says, "I concur. Lead the way, Neianne."

Although the four of you retain an alert posture at all times, the journey northward is largely uneventful. The distant clashes of combat eventually fade away - either because the faraway battles end or because you've descended far down enough into the valleys that the sounds no longer reach you - and there is nothing to accompany you aside from the footsteps of the group and the occasional chirping of out-of-sight birds amidst the silence. Twice you pass instructors, almost skirting beneath your notice despite never actually trying to hide, and subsequently breathe sighs of relief when you see that they do not wear red armbands. There are no further signs of other groups, although this does not surprise you; with each team having one and a half square kilometers to themselves, it'd take effort - or at least a tremendous amount of chance - to run into someone else.

Although it has been some time, you do feel as if you're in your element here. As a dryad, you naturally blend into your surroundings without thinking about it, both in terms of your biological makeup and possibly in-born habits. Climbing hills and valleys still take effort, but the flora here seem almost familiar, evoking memories from your early childhood. It's easy for you to bask in the forest air and move ahead, even as you take your allies of convenience into account, waiting from time-to-time for them to catch up as you scout just a small distance ahead of them.

At one point, Vesna catches up with you, and - in a small pocket of privacy sans Aphelia and Penelope - remarks with almost a hint of amusement as she remarks, "Penelope really doesn't like you."

You sigh resignedly. "I w-wish I could do something to change her mind."

"So it's true that Lady Zabanya was behind that?"

You purse your lips. Officially, Elizabeth was never directly implicated for putting Penelope and her squad in the sorry state they were found in, given the complete lack of evidence. It was one of those things where all the instructors knew it was her, and where they might've disciplined her had there been any shred of evidence. But making such an accusation against a viscountess' heir without such was simply too risky an action to take, so it seemed. Subsequently, you and Stephanie - and perhaps Sieglinde as well - have informally and quietly come to the conclusion that it is simply easier for all involved to keep hush about it, especially since the instructors have already moved on from the issue. The moment had passed, and coming out with the truth now instead of then seems incredibly awkward. It doesn't help that the damage has already been done, and reopening festering wounds sounds like an incredibly horrible idea.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Not to mention you really, really don't want to get on Elizabeth's bad side.

Looking at your troubled face, Vesna smiles and reassures you, "Don't worry, I won't tell. You don't have to either; I know about Lady Zabanya, for better or for worse." She shrugs. "Besides, half the apprentices here think it was her anyways, so I doubt it'd make a difference."

You wonder if you should point out that, technically, Penelope and her friends struck the first blow...even though Elizabeth's retaliation was entirely disproportionate. Not to mention the fact that Elizabeth not only seems entirely unrepentant after the fact, but saw fit to drive home the point of "might makes right".

You guess you can't really find it in yourself to defend a squadmate, even if you aren't willing to directly implicate her.

"Well," shrugs Vesna, stretching her arms, "first things first. We need to get to that stream."

"I'm not sure there is a stream," you try to temper the human's expectations.

But Vesna smiles and winks at you. "Don't worry, I've got a good feeling."

You wonder what "a good feeling" is even supposed to mean. It'd be nice to have even a quarter of Vesna's optimism.

Fortunately, it doesn't seem that her optimism is misplaced. It takes you almost two hours to get there at a cautious hike up and down difficult terrain, but when you reach the bottom of one of the valleys, you hear the sound of flowing water, and - a mere minute after that - a modest stream running through a rockbed.

"Wow!" Vesna gushes happily, hopping over to the stream as soon as she sees it. "There really is a stream here." It's no river, and there isn't enough water for you to hope to find fish swimming upstream, but it's certainly enough for you to sink your flask underwater to fill it up.

"Did you doubt Neianne?" chuckles Aphelia.

"I agreed with her before you did," Vesna grins.

Your elven de facto leader moves in the direction of the stream to rehydrate herself, but she passes you on the way and gives a reassuring clap on your shoulder, commending, "Good job."

"Th-Thank you, milady," you give a small, shy curtsy before joining the rest of your teammates for a nice drink of water. The general area, you suspect, would be an excellent place to set up camp when night comes.

The immediate concern of hydration is taken care of, and even if you run out of water from your own flasks, you now know where to return to should the need to quench your thirst arise. Food is now of utmost concern, especially since you all expect to engage in physically strenuous activities. It's fortunate that you - the one who needs food the least and with the greatest natural physical strength - carry the only true heavy weapon; Aphelia's rapier, Vesna's staff, and Penelope's dagger weigh light on them compared to your greatsword.

Fortunately, while all four of you are complete novices when it comes to tracking, you've at least learned to look for the most likely habitats for various types of common game. With the four of you in search of larger game, you move in the direction of lower elevation while remaining close to the river, looking through foliage and flora to search for the most likely hiding and feeding spots, to say nothing of possible fruits or berries that may stave off hunger's edge.

The hunt takes time; most animals have senses as keen as the sharpest aseri, and so it is no longer with other teams in mind that you move stealthily through the surrounding woodlands. With movements slower and more cautious than before, you scout the area at a light spread, and although it takes you almost another hour, your silent, persistent efforts are eventually rewarded when Penelope makes a gesture indicating that she's found something. It's only when the three of you gather at her position that she points through the gaps in the maze of trees, whispering, "Boar."

From the rocks the four of you are hiding behind, you peek out into the distance - about thirty or forty meters away - to see the prey you're hunting, if "prey" can be used to adequately describe a boar. Sure, it isn't the largest or the most dangerous game you can hunt, with the average boar only slightly larger than a big shepherd dog. This boar clearly isn't the largest you've ever seen. However, it is still three hundred kilograms of weight thrown around at forty kilometers per hour, and boars have often used that speed to gouge their victims with their tusks. It's hardly the sort of game you look forward to hunting compared to the more docile deer.

Vesna seems to be of similar mind as she quietly asks, "Are we sure we want to hunt that?"

"We don't have a choice," Aphelia whispers back. "We spent nearly an hour looking for a boar. Who knows if we'll get lucky and find something else in a reasonable amount of time." That seems to be the end of that, until she looks at the rest of you and whispers, "Any objections?"

Penelope shakes her head. Vesna takes a hair of a moment to think it over, then agrees. And, caught up in the moment, you also indicate your lack of meaningful objections.

Nodding, Aphelia sudden turns to you and declares, "Neianne, your greatsword is probably the best weapon for striking down that boar."

You blink, caught off guard. In fact, you're so surprised that you haven't realized that maybe it's time to panic about the fact that you've somehow just been designated the one who must actually hunt the boar.

Your mind is still trying to piece together a rationale to panic, and your mouth is still trying to instinctively trying to stammer some kind of exclamation, but Aphelia has already turned from you to the human mage of the group, asking, "Vesna, can you put that boar to sleep?"

"My magecraft is not that good yet," Vesna grips her staff determinedly, "but I can try to disorientate it."

"We need to give Neianne the best possible odds," Aphelia nods, still not noticing - or choosing not to notice - you beginning to work up a panic. "Try it, then keep back. In case something happens, we need you to heal any wounds we have, so it is imperative you remain unharmed." And before you can finally stammer anything in objection, Aphelia turns back around to grab you reassuringly by the shoulders. "You'll be in good hands if anything goes wrong. Penelope and I are here to cover you, and Vesna can fix you up in no time, so you need to stay calm, focus on the boar and nothing else. I'll try to use my own magecraft to wear the boar down and corral it in your direction so you can deliver the killing blow, so conserve your strength until then." The elf gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "You're an apprentice at Faulkren Academy. You'll do well." Without removing her hands from your shoulders, the elf turns to the other human, declares, "Penelope, should we fail to take down the boar in the first try, track the boar down in case it tries to flee."

Strangely enough, you do feel a bit reassured. It isn't just the fact that Aphelia is trying to assuage your fears. It's the fact that Aphelia already has a plan that plays to everyone's strengths. It's the fact that she's determined to keep you - and everyone else - as safe as possible, making sure that you have the best fighting chance and that you'll be in good hands even if something goes wrong. It's the fact that she radiates confidence and competence, someone sure that she knows what she's doing. There's an almost natural magnetism to her personality when she's put in charge of something, a force of character that Sieglinde lacks. Now that you're with her, it's easy to see why Aphelia is popular amongst the apprentices, and it's not difficult to imagine that her popularity would've remained even had she not been a noblelady.

Taking a deep breath, Aphelia looks to the rest of you and asks, "Ready?"

You and Vesna nod your heads in agreement. You half-expect Penelope to ask who made Aphelia leader, but although she doesn't nod or say a word, she makes a small show of twirling her daggers in her hands as if to show she's ready.

"Go," declares Aphelia, and the four of you spring to action. The lightest and fastest among you, Penelope, makes for the trees, disappearing amongst the trunks to stay out of sight and out of mind, ready to track the boar in case it tries to flee. Vesna lingers back in safety as she prepares to cast her spell, while Aphelia moves forward with you in the direction of the boar, the former already beginning to weave the intricacies of magecraft as a tome in her hands are slowly surrounded by motes of light.

The boar sees your approach, but although it seems to tense, it does not yet flee, instead turning towards you. That's aggressive behavior common with solitary male boars, even as the game in question begins to paw at the dirt beneath it, as if preparing to flee...or charge. You move forward, closing the distance, your greatsword held high as your instructor taught you, even as Aphelia remains behind you with rapier in one hand and tome in another.

"Disorientating!" Vesna calls out from behind you, mostly for your benefit, as she attempts to befuddle the mind of the boar, slowing its reactions, hampering its decision-making process, throwing off its balance. The effect is near-immediate; the boar begins to throw its significant weight forward into a charge, moving at an astonishing speed given its short legs. Still, it sways a little in its trajectory towards you, almost as if it's slightly intoxicated; Aphelia helps guide the boar in your direction with successive waves of her arms, throwing blasts of magecraft that land left and right of the boar, forming small barriers of crystalline ice as it strikes the ground, making sure the beast is on track towards you.

For your part, blood is pounding in your ears as you tighten your grip on your greatsword and desperately try to ignore every instinct telling you to get out of the boar's way. Striking a charging boar is nothing like fighting an opponent with a strong sense of self-preservation and a weapon you must watch for; nor is it a pig's carcass strung up for you to hack at to experience the feeling of cutting into flesh. This is a charging hunk of meat and tusks that outweighs you six times over despite only coming up to your hips, something that can inflict serious harm on you just by slamming into you.

It crosses a distance of thirty or forty meters quickly, taking a mere five seconds to come within spitting distance in an attempt to gouge you. Fighting against the urge to flee, fighting against a slight tremble running through your body, fighting against a strange feeling of lightheadedness that comes perhaps because you're breathing too quickly and heavily, you allow the boar to enter the range of your greatsword before - just as you have been taught - you allow the weight of the blade in your hands to come down, using its mass as a weapon, swinging it at the boar less than two meters away...

...And the blade hits the dirt. You open your eyes, realizing only a second later that at the very last moment, you attempted to dodge, jumping aside while trying to compensate by flailing your greatsword slightly to the side, only to miss in the end. You find yourself on a knee, turning in a panic to see where the boar is, feeling a mixed sense of both relief and dread as you realize it has charged right past you, missing you by a hair, but is now circling back towards you, with Aphelia already beside you, erecting more barriers of ice to cut off any attempts by the boar to retreat.

You fear that she may look angry or disappointed, having leapt out of the way as soon as you dodged, but instead her expression is one of intense concentration, her eyes tracking the boar all the while. "It's okay," she reassures you quickly between fast incantations from her tome, "it's coming around for a second pass." She gives your shoulder a clap, adds, "Anticipate its movements. You can do it."

You give Aphelia a nod. At least you think you do; in the rush of excitement, amidst the fear and adrenaline, you can't help but feel that you're having a strange out-of-body experience, as if your soul is perceiving the world from a point of view outside your body rather than from within it. You take a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, trying to feel the balance of the greatsword in your hands, trying to prepare as the boar turns around, making a second charge. You wonder if it's anticipating your movements as you are anticipating its, both of you trying to get a sense of each other's reactions from the previous near-miss.

Again, small barriers of ice spring up left and right, each nearly striking the boar but instead funneling the boar in your direction, Aphelia angling it slightly to your left so your right-hand preference can take advantage of it. You again recall your training, allowing habits to take over even as you reinforce it with mental replays of your instructor's words, with hours of repeating the same motions again and again until your muscles can pull them off with only minimal input from your brain, taking an even stance with your greatsword gripped tightly above your head. You focus on the boar's approach, mentally tallying the diminishing meters between the two of you, swinging downwards with the full force of your greatsword at the very last second.

Your attack connects this time, and with far more power than you expected. You already knew, of course, that you've become much more fit after months of physical training and calisthenics at the Academy. You knew, of course, that the force of your physical strength is only enhanced by the weight and mass of the greatsword in your hands. But even you are surprised when your greatsword easily slices through the boar, going from end to end with frightening force. It's not the most well-placed cut; rather than cleave the boar right down the middle, your strike instead cuts off its side, taking off its flank and a set of its ribs. It's not a blow that instantly kills the boar, but it's fatal, even as the boar collapses to the side, blood flowing freely from its gaping wounds that reveals muscles and sinew and bone and organs.

Breathlessly, you look at the collapsed boar breathing its last in a mixture of fascination and horror. You try to keep your adrenaline under control, almost sinking to your knees as you do so. This is what fighting with your life and safety on the line feels like, you think to yourself, still struggling to mentally break your way out of a stupor, trying not to focus on the exposed bloody innards of your victim. You've hacked away at pig corpses as part of your training before, but those were already dead. This feels different.

The boar's eyes look glazed over, the severity of your fatal attack sending it instantly into shock as its breathes its last staggered breaths. Quietly, you move over and plunge your greatsword into where you think the boar's heart is, giving it as quick and painless a death as you can grant it. You've merely killed it for food. There's no reason to let it suffer.

It's only after this that you sink onto your knees, finally managing to catch your breath and shake as the adrenaline slowly drains away. Aphelia is the first by your side as she gives you a strong pat on the shoulder. "That was excellent," she commends you approvingly. "Catch your breath, get some rest."

Vesna is quickly by your side as well, giving you a quick hug - she's probably noticed that you're still trying to catch your breath - and checking you for injuries. Penelope emerges from the trees, sheathing her daggers expressionlessly, looking impassively at the carcass of the boar. Is she, too, looking at what the insides of a dead living being looks like...or perhaps taking into account the fact that you have the physical strength to cut a boar in twain with a swing of your greatsword?

But Penelope eventually turns to Aphelia and dryly remarks, "You know, if you can use magecraft like that, couldn't you have dealt with the boar yourself?"

"I couldn't use fire or lightning magecraft for fear of starting a forest fire," Aphelia explains, examining the boar just in case, "not that I am proficient with either. And I being able to attack a target surgically with ice requires a level of precision that my magecraft has yet to achieve; I don't specialize in it as much as, say, Zabanya."

Penelope bristles at the mention of Elizabeth, and you quietly wish that Aphelia didn't mention her at all. With a scowl, the human girl marches off a moment later, an angry look on her face.

Ignoring Penelope, Aphelia gestures for Vesna to come over and declares, "Come on, let's start a fire and roast this boar."

Vesna moves over agreeably to help, although as the other magecraft-proficient apprentice in the group, she finds fit to ask, "That's...surprising. I...did not realize the precision of ice magecraft to be this elusive, under the circumstances."

"It doesn't, actually," Aphelia freely admits her duplicity once she looks over your shoulder to make sure Penelope is well out of earshot. And, with a slightly amused smile, she adds, "But we wouldn't have been able to do this together if I just read some incantations from a tome, would we?"

It takes a while to make a spit from limited resources; you end up having to chop the boar into smaller pieces, and Aphelia ends up having to use her Academy-issued rapier as a makeshift spit. In the end, however, your team manages to start a decent campfire as the sun begins its descent into the hilltops, indicating the approaching evening. Your goal, then, is to try to finish cooking before the sun sets, before your fire can be seen from kilometers around. Or, at least, that's the goal of your team; Aphelia insists that your job is done after cutting the boar into smaller pieces, and instead tells you to take a rest now that you've done the lion's share of the work. You take the time to return to the stream - only about a hundred meters away, fortunately - to clean the blood off your greatsword.

As you maintain your weapon for this exercise, you understand that there is an element of time involved. Penelope previously suggested that your squad simply wait for signs of smoke to indicate that someone was cooking, then ambush them for food and map pieces. That plan was shot down, but now that you have food and the need to cook it before digging in, it is entirely possible that other squads will use this hypothetical plan on you instead. It's thus prudent that you cook your food, eat it, and then pack up as quickly as possible to find another spot to camp for the night.

After finishing the cleaning of your greatsword, you finally return to the campfire, just in time to see Penelope beginning to cut a slice of the meat with one of her daggers while Vesna attempts to catch it with what looks like a large leaf that was washed in the stream. Upon seeing your approach, Vesna smiles and offers the choice cut of meat to you, declaring, "It's your kill, so you get the first cut."

"O-Oh," you blink, feeling a little surprised and embarrassed, but grateful nonetheless. "Th-Thank you."

"It'll be a bit tough to chew, since we don't have forks or knives," Aphelia notes, "so don't be afraid to get your fingers a little greasy."

"Note for next exercise," sniffs Penelope, "bring some forks and knives."

Since the campfire is modest and the equipment improvised, only part of the boar has been roasted, and you take turns managing the spit to make sure you can prepare as much meat as possible. As patches of meat are roasted, you and your teammates make slice after slice, careful not to heat the meat so much that it becomes tough to chew. It takes some time, but eventually the four of you largely manage to fill your stomachs, replenishing the strength that you expended on climbing up and down a hill, then on hunting down a boar, and then some.

Having started early and needing less food than the others, you are largely simply watching the other three finish their last slices of meat when Penelope speaks up. "I've got an idea," she declares in the midst of idle conversation, waiting for the three of you to turn your collective attention to her before continuing. "If the rest of you are too scared to take map pieces off from other teams, then we may as well head northwest."

You remember the significance of that direction. As does Vesna, apparently, as she blinks and asks, "Towards the bears?"

"Towards the bears," Penelope agrees. Then, when she realizes the rest of you haven't caught on, she scowls impatiently - but also with the self-satisfied air of someone who has figured something out before everyone else - and explains, "The dryads warned us about it, so most teams are gonna do the safe thing and stay away from that corner, probably so far away that they're never gonna run into the huntresses that are supposed to turn us back when we get too close. So what I'm saying is that if no one else is there, we can just search for flags in that area, in that safe little spot between where the dryad huntresses will turn us back and where the others are too scared to go."

Aphelia furrows her brow thoughtfully. "You assume, of course," she murmurs, "that they have not moved the flag elsewhere in light of the bear sightings."

"And that...sounds like cheating," Vesna points out with a slightly dismayed look; she's getting a bit accustomed to the sort of ideas that Penelope comes up with now. "Are we even allowed to do that?"

"It's technically not cheating," Aphelia allows slowly, cautiously. "Somewhat unsporting, but not disallowed."

"I'm not sure we've been brought out on this field exercise to be particularly unsporting."

"Look," scowls Penelope with impatience and frustration, "will it kill the three of you to imagine that maybe the instructors will be happy with clever thinking?"

Sighing, Aphelia is silent for a moment before admitting, "I cannot say I dislike Penelope's idea. It's not as if we have been told that combat is the only way we may get through this exercise."

Vesna clearly has more reservations about this than her elven counterpart, but she allows, "Well, if you think it's alright..."

Clapping her hands together without waiting for any further input, Penelope declares, "Then it's settled."

But Aphelia instead turns to you for a moment, prompts, "Neianne?"

"U-Um," you stammer, surprised that you're suddenly being asked for an opinion despite Penelope being determined to ignore any other input, probably especially from you. Certainly, she is glaring at you with deep irritation now. But you quickly answer, "I don't have any o-objections."

Aphelia stares at you for a moment, as if to divine something - it mostly just makes you feel incredibly self-conscious and somewhat uncomfortable - before she finally nods and says, "Let's start getting ready to move, then. Neianne, you go and wash up first. We'll try to slice as much of the remaining meat as possible before getting a move on."

"We don't have salt to help us preserve the meat, though," Vesna observes.

"I'll freeze the meat, and we can thaw it when we're ready to eat tomorrow. Some of the meat will be damaged in the process, but we do what we can."

Seeing that your foodstuff reserves are in good hands with the rest of your teammates, you turn for the stream as you call out, "I'll be back s-soon."

With your hands all greasy from eating roasted boar with your hands, you're quite happy to wash off the fat and oil in the cool flowing waters. You don't take your time, though - after all, the others are probably waiting for you to come help them so they, too, can wash their hands - so you turn back in the direction of your campfire, preparing to march back...

...At least, until you hear sounds behind you from further down the stream.

You turn in alarm, your hands quickly grabbing your greatsword in the process, but you don't see anyone or anything. You may have misheard, but cautiously - or perhaps just nervously - you quietly back away from the water and into the treeline, disappearing into the foliage of trees and leaves where your biological makeup affords you a degree of camouflage with your woodland surroundings. From the shadows of the canopy of those trees and leaves, you carefully keep watch in the direction of the source of the sound, only to hear more of what sounds like the rustling of leaves and footsteps on branches.

Your patience is rewarded when figures finally emerge from the opposite treeline approximately fifty meter upstream. Four figures, in fact, all of them mercenary apprentices, making it obvious that this is another team, one that is moving in your direction. Their speed is limited, as if they are watchful and cautious for ambushes, searching for defenders hidden in the flora...such as yourself, if you think about it. With some nervousness, you realize - no thanks to Penelope - that it's entirely possible that they have been drawn in by the smoke of your campfire, and that this is also a group that has considered the possibility of ambushing others. Alternatively, this can be a group that may try to negotiate...or perhaps even voluntarily cooperate. It's hard to tell.

One thing you are sure of, however, is the identity of one of the team members. While no one on that team is from your squad, you do recognize the human in the squad, the one holding the spear, as Wendy. She's someone that you would not have known at all except by name - and perhaps not even that - if not for one particular detail: She's in Penelope's squad. And all of your limited experience with her suggests that her attitudes regarding you, Elizabeth, and Squad Four in general are fairly in line with Penelope's, especially after Elizabeth paid them a "visit".

This certainly presents you with a conundrum. On one hand, your team has already accepted an "evade other teams for now" strategy that Aphelia first came up with. On the other hand, there is also the proviso of "unless you recognize someone from the same squad as a teammate". In this case, however, said "someone" is an apprentice who can potentially cause your team - and you in particular - all kinds of trouble with Penelope. It doesn't help that you don't know what the approaching team's intentions are, what their strategy is regarding coming across new groups, whether or not they intend to ambush you after having tracked down your campfire.

You have the element of stealth. You have the advantage of distance and time. It is entirely possible for you to rush back to your team now to inform them of the approaching squad. It is entirely possible for all of you to evacuate the campfire before this new team - Wendy's team - reaches your campfire. The question, of course, is what to inform them of, what not to inform them of, and how.

[x] Be truthful, and inform your team of an approaching team that includes Penelope's squadmate Wendy.

[x] Be deceitful, and inform your team of an approaching team while denying that you recognize any of its members as anyone's squadmates.

[x] Return and don't mention anything, letting it play out naturally.

[x] Write-in.