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Red Mist
96. A body of water that moves

96. A body of water that moves

“There isn’t a lot of water to be had,” River said.

The druid returned with a large gourd of water.

“That isn’t a good sign,” Crenshaw replied, holding out his waterskin,”I’m told that we’re close to some small body of water, or a stream?”

“Sela is making me think that there is something close enough to us that we can use. Something like a lake?”

Crenshaw got up and walked to the center of the group. Chickens still circled the five, providing some security inside of the supply base.

"It wouldn't be a cause for concern normally, but..."

Crenshaw sighed,"they're saying that the supply trains have been a bit delayed. They bring enough food for the regiment, and any delay is costly. The rabbits here were ecstatic that it arrived here when it did. Smaller trains will be heading forward from here to the main effort shortly."

River and Crenshaw turned to Kayli.

"Sapper Kayli," Stone said with an exaggerated wink obvious to anyone watching,"we need to help support the main effort in some way."

"I...can think of a few ways."

River’s feathers fluttered as she grabbed a shaft with a combined arrowhead.

"She has been making these. It's too bad that she only has so much cusser material or we could...make ...more?"

Freya looked stricken.

"That's insane!" Freya chirped,"I am not ready to work with those materials! You know they explode right?"

"And we also know," Crenshaw whispered, "that you're both engineers."

Freya sighed. It wasn’t her best idea to pretend to be a bluejay. It wasn’t even her third or fourth idea down the line, but she was committed to the act.

"There is a way," River intoned, "to warp the material to make it a bit safer. It's something special that I wish I'd paid more attention to. I remember the weave didn't require a lot of red mist but..."

The silence between the two blue jays stretched.

"It's going to be a lot isn't it."

In between them the last vestiges of the campfire snuffed out. The afternoon breeze came and went with a sweet smell of apples. Freya wondered how far they were from a proper orchard. She’d heard that some of the wild apples were nearly mouse sized. That would satisfy a great many creatures. Or at least two hungry ones.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"It's going to be an extra lunch and they're already hungry here."

"If you smell those apples, we could find the source?" Freya replied.

River smiled.

"I have a friend looking for them right now."

"Oh! I do love friends!" Stone said, raising his waterskin.

The ranger stalked through the overgrowth. His thick otter legs kept him above the worst of it, but he had to pick the right routes to avoid some of the pitfalls around him.

He has been asked to bring back some apples and he was more than ready to oblige. With his field knife he'd stripped down a double edged spear to carry his quarry.

It wasn’t heavy, the two apples he'd speared on either side of him. It was more awkward to sling them up. He’d taken his time with them, having to spear one then reverse spear the second. Once they were yoked correctly, he was able to get them up on his shoulders.

He silently whispered a prayer to Nithe that it got easier to move it the closer he got to her.

It had been a long time. He was ready to be reunited with his druid.

Ahead of him, the patrol base loomed. He smelled them first, his keen senses a boon from his bond.

It was almost certainly just a handful of mice from what he smelled. He hoped that he'd be able to make the delivery quickly without arousing too much superstition. A long otter in a warzone was an odd sight and he wasn't here on company business. Truly he would create far too many questions.

Ahead of him, three mice poked their heads out from the patrol base. Beyond their little outpost he saw the heavy tracks of many caravans. They’d put it right at the center of a large fork, but had done a bad job of concealing it. He would probably have some words with whomever was in charge.

"Who goes there?" A black mouse said.

He sounded uncertain of himself. Sela sighed inwardly.

"Ranger Sela. I'm here with a boon."

"How did you find us?"

Sela nodded back to the way he came.

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

The black mouse narrowed his eyes.

"No. Explain before I fill you with arrows."

Sela sighed.

He lowered the apple yoke to the ground.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm showing you who I am."

The apples hit the ground gently.

Sela flashed a pin from underneath his brown and green color changing cloak.

A gasp came up from the patrol base.

"Ah! I'm sorry, please be along your way. We want no trouble with the circle."

Sela nodded.

"One question for you mouse?"

The black mouse's whiskers drooped.

"...yes?"

"Do any of you want some apple?"

"It would look odd if we didn't support the main effort. We need to make a concerted push to appear to be doing something," River said, "this weave will divide some of the cusser material into smaller portions and make it a bit safer. For us at least. It will still explode upon impact."

River looked about. They’d grabbed some material at the behest of the supply trains. The concussion arrows were needed for some upcoming assault.

Freya felt through the piles of arrow shafts. She’d have more than enough for those blue jays.

The cart with the material separated itself from the rest on the journey. It was clear that it hadn't exploded, but the few creatures around had decided that it was dangerous enough to not need a heavy guard. They’d kept it near an entrance, far from the inside of the hastily constructed fort. Around them, earth had been moved to obstruct the view from outside, with tree branches bent around the base. Above the makeshift exterior, a roving squad of rabbits kept an eye on the proceedings.

They often stopped and stared off.

When Freya came by for the first time, they looked at her oddly. One of the creatures on the wall-a mouse by their look- almost darted over. Freya saw the hesitation in their halted step, the shadow of the mouse reconsidering talking to a Blue Jay. And one that to all accounts appeared to be on official business.

The weave was simple and the food really helped. Before long she was once again in a groove. Guards watching from above didn’t seem to mind her work. Her companions all decided that they would give her some space, and wisely left the blue jays alone.

It was then that the horns sounded.