"The most difficult to deal with is the owls," the guard mouse said,"as they can strike unexpectedly in the dark. But you have a raven with you, and … are you lot scouts?"

Here at the gate to the outside rested two mice in full armor.

"We're not scouts, but we work with them," Crenshaw said, making his tone clear that he was trying to save face.

"You work with scouts?" The mouse repeated, pursing his lips.

His partner nearly smacked him with a gauntleted paw, but the first moved faster than Freya could see. Her whiskers stiffened at the exchange.

"They’re probably royal intelligence," the second one hisses, "Anyway what my partner is trying to say is that anyone can leave whenever they want, but we only let people return through the gates during the day."

"We might make an exception for an emergency, but you need two strong mice to operate the mechanism."

The iron gateway showed both an inner and an outer gate. Only the outer gate was open.

"We open one at a time so we can't be rushed by some of the beasts outside."

The wall was thicker where the gates were. Freya waited as they were allowed to move into the inside. Between the two gates, Freya's heart began to race.

River had flown to the top of the wall to scout out the area around them. More and more Freya was realizing that when it came to doing official druid business River had an expectation for how she did things. Otter form for meetings, Raven form when she meant to fight or scout.

Freya idly wondered if she should adopt a similar tactic. Then she remembered flying, and falling and reconsidered. She had messed up tea after all. She dearly hoped that would be the low point of her week.

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"Last chance to turn back lass, it's going to be more difficult from here on out," Stone said as he practiced drawing his two swords. He was far too good at getting them to a ready position in Freya's estimation.

"I believe that Miss Uki has made up her mind at this point," Crenshaw said.

Freya's whiskers flew up and her ears stiffened.

“She’s made up her mind, boys,” her Grandpaw said.

“Just one thing,” The armored mouse said, “This wall keeps things out that shouldn’t come in. Don’t be one of the brave adventurers we see every year that disappears, or better yet wants to die a hero's death.”

The elder mice grunted at that, and Grandpaw gave a slight nod.

The inner gate closed behind them without fanfare and the two mice pulled a system of levers to open the outer gate.

Then they were out in the open.

Freya actually liked it, how Grandpaw let Crenshaw and Stone go on and on. They were friends, but often at odds. It wasn’t hard to respect his judgement of them as warriors, he’d said as much earlier, but they were characters. The retired old creatures were driven.

After taking a second to adjust her cloak and nudge the riderless chicken that River had bonded, they moved onwards in a formation. Grandpaw took the lead, unconsciously and the mood became a bit more serious. Crenshaw brought his bow out and Freya briefly considered leaving hers on the side saddle. Much of their equipment and food had been placed in Rivers spot.

***

Above the Raven flew, keeping an eye on the four of them. Five chickens, three mice and one otter followed along the beaten path. It was clearly a road, but less used than the roads on the interior of the country.

As she beat her wings, she looked out beyond. The areas around the wall were covered in tall trees and she’d been happy to flit between so many. The massive trunks stopped a lot of problems, and the few trees inside of the walls were used invariably as shade structures. Over the centuries, those trees on the interior had been slowly used for building materials, leaving more on the outside than inside.

She was trained to deal with the beasts of the air, larger birds to include owls. They were not sentient the way that the smaller creatures were, and it was possible to outsmart them, but it was difficult.

It wasn’t that she sensed any beasts about, but when one went into the wild forest, things changed. She had to be on alert until they found a safe resting space. It was a fruitless effort to build things outside of the boundaries, save for some well guarded trading houses and inns that had been built up inside of trees. She knew that it would be no safer inside her burrow, but she’d decided against advising Freya to travel that way.

Either way, the daylight would illuminate what the chickens couldn’t smell.

That wasn’t a problem. She’d dealt with worse beasts than owls.

The real problem was convincing her to return with the caravan of potential Druids. Already the mouse had shown considerable skill. She’d eclipsed her mother and grandmother there and River had her suspicions, but Spring was enthusiastic about her. This little side quest would help cement the mouse as a true candidate to become a druid.

Just a year ago, she’d been completing her own training, and now they had her out recruiting and training new possible initiates. Her own rangers, well, they were off doing what they needed to be doing for the moment. She felt their tug pulling far away. It was a comfortable feeling that she’d gotten used to over the past year and well worth it. It felt like home. It tugged her back and she itched to return to them.

It would be after this, she’d promised them. They’d arrive to take the caravan at the end of winter. She would hug them again, and all would be good. It was only a few weeks away after all.

Nothing would keep her from them.