The sky above was overcast, threatening to unleash a torrent of rain at any moment.

Thorsten let out a grunt as he pushed forward, the muck sucking at his boots with every step. He'd been through worse, much worse, in the cold, desolate northlands where the wind howled like a banshee and the snow cut through a man's skin like a knife. This drizzle, this bit of mud—it was nothing.

But the silence was another matter. It was a different kind of weight, one that pressed down on him more heavily than the storm clouds above. He was a man of few words, but he knew when silence carried meaning, and this one was charged, full of things unsaid.

Thorsten cast a glance over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Serrandyl through the misty drizzle. She was trailing behind, her usual boisterous energy muted by the somber atmosphere. Her crimson mane, wild as always, clung to her face in wet strands, and her steps were uncharacteristically measured. She didn't seem to care that her garb was soaked through, that her boots were caked with mud. In that, they were alike.

It was odd seeing her this quiet; normally, she would be cracking jokes or challenging him to some sort of competition. Today, though, she seemed lost in thought.

His thoughts drifted back to Ebonheim's smile when she handed them the task of patrolling the western road. It had been too sweet, too innocent, like a mother trying to gently nudge her children toward something she thought was for their own good. The kind of smile that made him uneasy.

Thorsten sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard. He wished he could say something to lighten the mood. But words failed him as they always did when faced with Serrandyl's shifting emotions.

"Thorsten..." The name tumbled from her lips hesitantly, like she didn't know whether to speak or keep quiet.

"Hmm?" He slowed his pace slightly to let her catch up. "What is it?"

She opened her mouth as if to reply, then shook her head and fell silent once more. Thorsten frowned, glancing at her sidelong. He didn't like seeing her this way. Normally she was so confident, so sure of herself—it felt wrong to see her struggling.

"Spit it out," he said gently. "You've got something on your mind."

"Oh, um...you think Ebonheim's trying to set us up?" she asked, her tone half-joking, half-serious.

He nodded with a grunt. "Wouldn't surprise me."

She let out a bark of laughter. "Figures. I shoulda guessed. She can be pushy when she wants somethin', can't she?"

"Sometimes."

They walked on for another moment, neither speaking. Thorsten watched Serrandyl from the corner of his eye. She kept looking at him then glancing away when their gazes met. Her tail swished from side to side, a restless, agitated movement. She scratched absently at her cheek and cleared her throat a few times without saying anything.

Every fiber of his body could feel her desire to say something.

"What else do you want to share with me?" he probed with the patience of a saint.

Serrandyl's gaze dropped to the ground at their feet before lifting back up to his. A faint flush tinged her cheeks, making her freckles stand out. Thorsten noted her ears twitched slightly.

"This might sound silly but...the past few days have been...nice." She paused briefly before adding in an almost shy voice. "Being with you, spending time together...I like it."

Thorsten rubbed the back of his neck. That one word echoed in his mind, bouncing from one end to the other: nice. It wasn't a particularly remarkable sentiment. Nothing overtly romantic. And yet, there was something about the way she'd said those words that resonated deep within him—something heartfelt and honest. The more he considered them, the more he found himself agreeing.

"I agree," he said after several seconds had passed. "The days have been...nice..." The word sounded weird leaving his mouth. Unfamiliar and clumsy, like someone putting their foot through a patch of snow that looked thicker than it actually was. But as ridiculous as it felt to say, he couldn't argue its validity.

Serrandyl glanced sidelong at him. "Oh...really? Then would...would you want to spend more time together?" She fidgeted slightly with her fingers as she spoke. "Maybe...I don't know...do something different from patrolling?"

A faint smile spread across his lips. This had to be the most awkward conversation he'd ever witnessed, and he'd sat in on enough of Bjorn's drunken confessions to know how bad such things could get. Serrandyl seemed to catch herself midway through the question and quickly changed tactics.

"I mean...we don't have to...but...if you...maybe..."

She trailed off again, floundering for the right words to express herself. She wasn't usually like this around others. She was bold, brash, fearless. If she wanted something, she asked for it. Plain and simple. Yet here, standing beside him in the middle of the forest with only the drizzling rain as their witness, she had become timid and shy. It wasn't a side to her he'd seen often, but the sight stirred a strange feeling in him that was difficult to describe.

"We can go fishing if you wish." Thorsten found himself saying before she got the wrong impression.

Serrandyl blinked up at him in surprise. "Fishing?"

Thorsten nodded, gesturing with one hand. "Aye. Just you and I. I know a good spot where we won't get bothered." He stopped himself short of admitting she would need a lot of patience. Fishing required a certain calmness that not everyone possessed. But they could make a day out of it nonetheless.

Serrandyl stared up at him, eyes wide with wonder. "Wait...is this like...a date?" Her lips curved upwards into a big smile. "Is Thorsten Gustafsson asking me on a date?!"

Thorsten cleared his throat loudly. This wasn't how he'd envisioned it going. Not in the slightest. He'd assumed she'd eagerly agree or laugh at him and walk off. Not turn expectant eyes on him. Waiting. Anticipating a response he was still in the process of coming to terms with.

"Ehhh..." he stammered out slowly. His mind churned through several different answers before settling on something simple. Something safe. "Sure."

The smile Serrandyl gave him was blinding—like the sun emerging from behind a cloudbank. It caught him off guard, made his breath hitch.

She moved closer and nudged his arm playfully. "You sly old bear! Who'd have guessed you had this side to you!"

His gaze dropped back to the ground and he muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Serrandyl snorted with laughter, her tail swishing rapidly from side to side. Then her hand slid down his forearm until their fingers laced together.

Thorsten didn't even think as he squeezed gently. The corners of his lips twitched upwards slightly. Serrandyl responded by squeezing back. They stayed there for a moment, hands linked, both smiling like fools. Then a loud clap of thunder broke the moment, making Serrandyl jump. She let go abruptly, her cheeks burning brighter than ever before.

"Right." She straightened up and started walking. "I guess we better get moving again. Wouldn't want the rain getting worse or somethin'."

Her attempt to sound cool and nonchalant failed miserably.

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The journey back to Ebonheim went by swiftly compared to how it started. The rain had eased to a fine mist that barely qualified as drizzle, but neither minded the dampness. They strode side by side in a silence more comfortable this time. Thorsten took note of how the clouds above their heads parted, letting the sunlight peek through in places.

A good omen, one might say.

As they reached a bend in the road, Serrandyl's stomach growled loudly enough to make Thorsten glance at her in surprise. She gave him an apologetic smile, but before she could say anything, her stomach grumbled again. Thorsten snorted in amusement and Serrandyl whacked him lightly with her tail.

"We're out of rations," she said, a hint of mischief returning to her voice. "You up for a hunt?"

The thought of a good hunt appealed to Thorsten. And besides, he was hungry too. He gave Serrandyl a quick pat on her back as a confirmation. "Let's do that."

They headed deeper into the woods, eyes scanning the underbrush for movement. Occasionally they would catch sight of a critter scurrying away through the greenery. Each time Serrandyl leapt after them, Thorsten trailing along at a more relaxed pace. But every time, she was too late.

It wasn't long before they spotted the boar. It was a massive beast, even by boar standards, its dark hide covered in mud and bristling with coarse hair. Its tusks were long and curved, wicked-looking weapons designed for gore and death.

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Serrandyl crouched low behind a fallen tree trunk, staring intently at the boar. "There he is!" she hissed excitedly. "Look how fat he is. We'd have more meat off him than both of us combined." Her tail thrashed eagerly, thumping against the damp grass. She started to rise from her hiding place, intent on charging right at him.

But Thorsten caught hold of her arm, keeping her in place.

"Wait, now. That's a big boy. Let me try my axe." He pulled his axe from its holster on his back. With one smooth motion, he threw the axe towards the beast. The blade sunk deep between the thick muscle and sinew of the Boar's shoulder.

The beast bleated loudly in rage, trying desperately to flee. But Serrandyl pounced after him, tackling the boar. The pair rolled end over end across the clearing as they fought for purchase. Finally, the boar bucked hard, throwing Serrandyl off him and sending her crashing into a nearby tree.

She landed with a groan but was quick enough to roll aside when the boar came charging towards her once more. The beast crashed headlong into the trunk.

Serrandyl scrambled to her feet. As she did, Thorsten grabbed his fallen axe and circled the boar.

This time, they moved together, circling the raging creature. Serrandyl darted in from one side and Thorsten feinted from the other. Each attack provoked another round of frenzied charges, which the pair dodged and weaved away from.

Finally, after several minutes of dancing circles around each other, Serrandyl managed to get close enough to strike. As the boar wheeled around, Thorsten lunged in with his axe. He buried it deep into the beast's skull. A final bleat escaped before the life ebbed from its body.

Serrandyl let out a victorious laugh, patting the large boar a few times. "That was fun!"

She wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her arm before holding a fist out toward him. After a brief moment passed, he realized she wanted to clack fists and so he held his own up in response. They gave each other a firm knock followed by a hearty laugh.

"Let's get to work then," he suggested. "The sooner we dress it, the sooner we eat."

They set to the task of preparing the boar, Serrandyl bragging loudly as she worked about how many times the animal tried to gore her. Thorsten chuckled along with the stories. The girl liked to exaggerate sometimes but he wouldn't dare call her out on it. Let her have her moment—that's what being a warrior was about sometimes.

As Serrandyl worked on the carcass and cleaned its insides out, Thorsten collected branches and twigs for their fire.

The hair on the back of Thorsten's neck prickled as he paused in his gathering, his instincts flaring to life in response to some unseen danger. Slowly, he scanned the clearing and surrounding area for any signs of movement.

A deep, resonant growl echoed through the forest, cutting through the quiet. It was followed by the crack and crunch of foliage as something huge moved through the underbrush.

Thorsten rushed to Serrandyl's side, hand on his weapon's hilt as he searched the tree line with narrowed eyes. "Stay sharp."

"Something's coming," Serrandyl said in a hushed voice.

The growl came again, louder this time, closer. Whatever was out there, it was no ordinary beast.

Then, with a sudden crash of underbrush, it appeared—a massive boar, easily thrice the size of the one they had killed. Its hide was a mottled gray, and its eyes glowed with an unnatural light. Bony spines jutted from its shoulders and back. Its tusks were as long as spears, curling outward at their tips.

"Is that what I think it is?" Serrandyl gasped out, sounding half-excited and half-terrified.

"A spirit beast," Thorsten confirmed gravely. "And we just killed its kin."

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The spirit beast let out a roar reverberating through the trees, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

"We're in for a proper fight now." Thorsten tightened his grip on his axe.

Serrandyl grinned, flashing her fangs. "Bring it!"

Before he could warn her to be careful, she was already charging forward, her gauntleted fists raised, ready to brawl. Typical Serrandyl—always charging in headfirst, never a second thought put into strategy.

Thorsten cursed under his breath and followed suit, swinging wide to the left to catch the spirit beast's attention.

The beast roared again and charged at Serrandyl, its massive hooves tearing up the ground as it barreled toward her. She stood her ground against it, catching its charge in her hands and throwing all her weight behind it to push back. Her feet dug in, skidding through the loose earth, but she managed to slow the creature long enough for Thorsten to get within striking distance.

He hefted his axe and swung hard at the beast's hindquarters. The steel bit deep. With a blood-curdling bellow, the beast wheeled away and tried to ram him, but Serrandyl kept hold, dragging its head to the side.

The boar's hindlegs kicked out at Thorsten, sending him tumbling to the ground. As he struggled to right himself, the creature thrashed against Serrandyl's grip. But she held fast. She pushed back with all her might, grunting with exertion. Despite the strain she was visibly putting into trying to contain its brute strength, a wild grin still plastered onto her face.

The spirit beast reared up, its maw opening wide. Serrandyl scrambled back just as a gout of green flame erupted from its throat. She dove for the ground, barely escaping the brunt of the fire.

Thorsten scrambled to his feet, rushing forward to get another strike in on the monster's side. Serrandyl followed his example, darting to the other flank and delivering a series of vicious blows to the spirit beast's head and ribs.

It shook them off and stomped on the ground, letting out a low growl as vines began to sprout from its hide. They crawled along its body, coiling around its legs, growing thicker and thornier as they went.

"This thing's not going down easy!" Serrandyl shouted, dodging as several of those vines snapped towards her like tentacles.

"You don't say?" Thorsten answered sarcastically, slashing his way through the wriggling tendrils.

The spirit beast charged again and the duo scattered. Its hooves pounded against the earth, kicking up clods and splinters as it tore across the clearing in pursuit. Serrandyl leapt aside easily while Thorsten dodged by rolling forward beneath the beast's path. Once again, his axe struck home; this time, deep into its neck.

He let go quickly as the creature roared again, rearing above him before lashing out with its tusks. Thorsten dodged, narrowly avoiding getting skewered through the stomach. He ducked beneath another attack, grabbing his fallen weapon and swinging wildly to drive the creature back.

Their battle raged on through the trees and underbrush. At one point Serrandyl latched onto the beast's tusk and was flung all over the forest clearing until the tusk broke off, the sharp end stabbing into a tree. Then, with renewed vigor, she leapt atop the beast's back and rained punches into its spine. The creature reared up to toss her off again but she held fast despite its angry bucking.

With a furious cry, Thorsten joined her assault. His axe hacked at the beast's flanks and shoulders. Between the two of them, they wore the great boar spirit down until, finally, it collapsed with a groan. The flames dimmed in its eyes; the vines that covered its body shriveled and died. It lay still at last.

Serrandyl, battered and bruised, flopped beside him, breathing hard. Thorsten slumped against the trunk of a nearby tree, dropping his axe at his side. His muscles ached; every breath burned his chest. Blood trickled from a number of cuts and scratches along his limbs and torso. He wiped a streak of sweat from his brow, gritting his teeth as the action pulled at his wound.

A strange sound bubbled within the spirit beast's corpse. It groaned and creaked, as if coming to life once more. Then, with an abrupt burst, the body split apart like an overripe fruit, sending a shower of ectoplasmic gunk and vines cascading outward like a blast wave with its death throes.

Thorsten threw up his arms to protect his face as Serrandyl yelped and shielded herself with her gauntleted fists. But the torrent of material enveloped them both, dragging them together and pinning them in place.

When the deluge finally slowed, they found themselves intertwined in a mass of vines that bound them tightly, chest-to-chest. Thorsten shifted uncomfortably, trying to disentangle himself from the vines and free his companion, but the more he moved, the tighter the vines pulled around them both.

Like a pair of bugs trapped in a spider's web, they hung in the air between earth and tree in an uncomfortable embrace. One of Thorsten's hands had somehow ended up on Serrandyl's backside, causing her to wriggle indignantly beneath the vines.

"Um...hi," Serrandyl said through a mouthful of his beard.

"I don't suppose you can wriggle out of these vines?" he murmured back.

"How'd you guess?" she quipped back at him. Her ears twitched against his chin. A faint growl left her. "They won't budge at all."

Thorsten grunted something noncommittal in reply. He had hoped she wasn't noticing his musky scent after such exertion—or worse, him noticing her unique smell.

The slime coating them didn't make things any easier. While it smelled pleasant like fresh rain, there wasn't anything else positive about the sticky substance clinging to their bodies like honey. Even worse was Serrandyl squirming against him. Thorsten tried not to think too hard on that or how the pressure between them made his trousers grow tight in certain regions.

The situation required a clear mind. If he panicked here, he wouldn't die but he'd never live it down.

"Stop fidgeting! You're making it worse!" he admonished sharply.

"What?! Then don't poke me with—" she started before her cheeks went red under her freckles.

His face flushed as he stammered. "It's a natural reaction! Don't read too much into it!"

They lapsed back into embarrassed silence and refused to meet each other's eyes. Neither dared move too much lest they worsen the situation even further. Luckily, the sun provided enough warmth to counteract the gooey slime covering them.

After a few minutes passed without comment, Serrandyl spoke hesitantly. "Um...so what now?" Her voice dropped to a low whisper, almost shy as she added, "We could just stay like this for a while."

He blinked down at her, uncertain whether she meant to joke again or tease him. But her expression remained neutral, if slightly bashful. She averted her gaze as if avoiding eye contact, but her tail flicked around to settle over his waist in a manner that could only be described as coy.

Heat crept along his skin. Despite how uncomfortable and ridiculous their situation was, he found himself considering how close she was to him. How she smelled of spring flowers mixed in with the scent of sweat and blood.

"Sooo...at least we can't say that this was a boring trip," Serrandyl said with a chuckle. "Eheh...get it? Boring...boar spirit..." She trailed off lamely as he gave her an exasperated look.

"You must be tired if your jokes are getting this bad."

"I've been hungry since this all started," she grumbled. "Oh, I wonder if this is edible..."

She licked the slime off his neck and made a face. "Guh! It tastes awful!"

Not a moment later, she vomited on him.

Thorsten let out a groan. "Are you kidding me?" He closed his eyes. "You can be such an idiot sometimes."

Serrandyl wiped her mouth on Thorsten's beard, spitting out bits of slime as she did so before looking up at him with a pouty expression. "Yeah, but...I'm your idiot."

The sudden declaration caught Thorsten off guard. This girl...

He gazed at Serrandyl for a heartbeat—two, three—before breaking into laughter, loud and boisterous. The action shook his frame hard enough that the vines finally loosened their hold, dropping the pair unceremoniously onto the ground with grunts and groans.

He lay atop her, arm around her waist as if he were holding her tight while she gazed up at him wide-eyed. Thorsten leaned forward until their foreheads brushed.

"That you are," he murmured, a smile twitching at his lips before he pressed them to her mouth in a tentative kiss.