After much heated debate, a deal was agreed upon. As was the way of most fair deals, all parties were unhappy.

The first part of the deal: Riles would free Eliot, which she very much did not want to do. Riles was of the strong opinion that the best state an unknown devilfruit user of questionable loyalties and morality was tied up, bound, and gagged. A sensible stance if you were to ask any of her men who had had a hand in the aforementioned tying, binding, and gagging. One of Riles’ men in particular, Steve, was a staunch supporter of this position, being the one that had hit the devilfruit user in the back of the head to easier facilitate the twice now mentioned tying/binding/gagging.

In exchange for his liberation, Eliot was tasked with leading Riles and her crew through the very woods he had only narrowly escaped to a hidden port where their target, Mad Dog, was holed up. It was at this point that negotiations very nearly broke down. Eliot, through a combination of yelling, threatening, crying and eventually begging, expressed to Riles how not only did he not want to lead her through the woods, he refused to even look in the general direction of trees for at least a month.

In a desperate gambit to save the deal, Riles sweetened the pot. When, not if, and Riles was very clear on that distinction, when they defeated the Mad Dog, Eliot would claim the bounty on the pirates head.

Eliot had been indignant at the mere suggestion that he could be bought, that his dignity and fears could be pushed aside for a few berry.

Well, more than just a few, a few million.

The problem wasn’t how much though, it was about Riles’ unreasonable demands of him. If these bandits thought they could pay him a few million berry for a light hike through some woods and then collect his bounty for him, they had another things coming!

A single tear slid down Eliot’s cheek as he shook Riles’ hand to seal the deal.

After the deal was struck, Riles spent the few hours they had before their departure at dawn preparing her men, gathering supplies, and a thousand other things it took keep a few dozen men a coherent fighting force.

Eliot took a power nap.

***

Riles was weighed down by countless regrets, constantly gnawing at her conscience. While some may have crumbled under the weight, she instead channeled it into self-reflection, self-improvement, and meticulous planning. Every mistake, every weakness, every moment of naivety was fuel for her relentless drive towards becoming a stronger version of herself. Riles hated who and what she had been when she made those mistakes. In fact, she despised her past self so much that it felt like a separate entity, the villain in her story.

And at this moment, stripped of all sense of direction, surrounded by a dense tapestry of shadows, and with no hope of returning the way they came, Riles deeply hated that foolish and desperate past version of herself had agreed to follow this stranger into the woods.

Trudging through the dense woods was a torturous ordeal. Twisted branches clawed at their weary bodies, trying to strip them bare of cloths or flesh.

Standing still, as they were now, was somehow even worse. The air hung heavy with with stillness, broken jaggedly by the occasional rustle of leaves, the distant cry of an unseen creature, or the sound of their guide’s voice as he very clearly delved deeper into madness.

The boy they so foolishly followed muttered angrily to himself as he studied, no that wasn’t the right word, wrestled with the crudely drawn markings on paper he claimed was a map, his brow furrowed in manic concentration. Riles could feel when their guide noticed something, his eyes narrowed before he looked up into the distance around them. He looked directly at a-

Riles eyes widened in horror as she realized what had caught the boys' attention - another strangely shaped and medium sized rock.

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“Whitebeard save us.” Ricky, one of her followers, muttered under his breath.

"Please not again," said her second in command.

With dread filling their hearts, Riles and crew could do nothing but watch as Eliot skipped giddily towards the ominous rock, which Riles was starting to realize looked oddly like a bunny, if she squinted with one eye and closed the other.

Stomachs churned in fear as they watched yet again in disbelief as the boy began to talk at the lifeless object, lost in his delusion.

"Yes, I turned left at a big tree." Eliot told the rock, exasperated, looking back at the map.

Riles and crew watched on as the boy shook his head and frowned as the rock said nothing.

“No I’m not sure it was ‘the’ big tree. How would I even know that.”

Eliot rolled his eyes as the rock continued to do what it had done for hundreds of years. Nothing.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be more careful from now on Mrs. Rabbit.” So not a bunny, Riles realized, but a lady rabbit. A married one apparently. She wondered if they would survive long enough to follow this boy to a Mr. Rabbit rock. Then she wondered if maybe the madness had spread to her as well.

Eliot ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I just need directions to-”

Riles and her men were no cowards, but fierce warriors, their bonds forged in fire and blood. For countless months, they had bravely faced enemies on all sides - hunted by the ruthless marines, abandoned by their own people, and targeted by rebel forces. But through it all, they remained steadfast in their fight for survival.

But as they watched their one hope in escaping the woods nod his head, apologize, and say he would try and do better next time, as he was seemingly scolded by a rock shaped like a rabbit, they finally started to crack.

"No one else is saying it, so I will. That boy is talking to a rock.” One of the men stated plainly, his whisper barely audible above the gentle rustling of leaves.

“Why does the rock seems like the responsible one?”

Another shook his head, grasping at hope. "It must be his devil fruit power. He's communicating with the spirits of the forest."

“Do forests have spirits?”

“Sure hope so, or else our guide it talking to himself.”

Riles observed with as Eliot passionately spoke to the oddly-shaped rock. She had told her men that this bounty hunter would be a guiding light in their battle against the infamous Mad Dog. Now, all eyes turned to her seeking her radiating confidence and reassurance, that knowing look she gave that assured she’d not been one step ahead, but half the race. Their leader opened her mouth and her followers leaned in, desperate to hear. "We're doomed," she muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with despair. "Because of me our fate rests in the hands of a man who argues with rocks."

Eliot was too caught up in his own problems to notice his companions lose faith in him in real time. "Slow down, I can’t keep up. Okay so from the beginning.” Eliot paused, as if he were actually listening to directions. “I see. So I take a left at the log that looks like a snake, and a right at the branch that looks like an eel." Eliot nodded thoughtfully before yelling, “How am i supposed to tell those two apart?”

“My father was right, I have killed us all.” Riles paled.

“We could turn back to camp, try and find another way?” Her second in command offered.

“Which way is back?” Riles asked, and seven of her men pointed eight different ways, one of them guessing twice.

Riles seethed with self-loathing. She cursed her past self, that foolish, naive girl who had been so desperate for any glimmer of hope that she had blindly followed this delusional stranger into the heart of the jungle. She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug crescent moons into her palms, drawing pinpricks of blood. She wanted to scream, to rage at the heavens. The weight of ever more regret settled on her shoulders, and though it was tempting, she did not succumb.

She drew strength from the haggard faces of her crew, their eyes hollow with exhaustion and fear. Not just from today, or from this moment, but the months added up as they had followed her through hell. She owed them more than this, more than a leader who wallowed in her own mistakes while they suffered.

Riles straightened her shoulders, a newfound determination settling over her like a mantle. She had made a grave error in judgment, yes, but she would learn from that mistake, not compound it. They were lost, not defeated. Not yet.

“What are the three options when pinned down by an enemy?” Riles asked aloud, a tenant from their shared dojo, from their lives long ago.

There was a pause, but the words came to one of her men, the once often repeated words coming out easily. “Shelter in place is to sit and wait for death."

“Retreat only if the path forward is impassible and the escape secure.” Another continued.

“Advance through the danger toward victory.” her second said, steel in his voice.

“Would you gathered here wait for death?” Riles asked.

“No.” Came a stern reply.

“Is the way forward impassible and escape secure?” Riles relied on the momentum.

“No.” but not as sure this time.

“Are you here prepared to advance through this danger toward victory?!”

“Yes,” her men thundered, “Ye-”

“Shhhhhh.” Eliot stared at them, finger to his lips. The men quitted down and the boy went back to asking a rock for directions.

For not the first time Riles regretted not gagging and blindfolding him again, like he had asked.