Beryn hung back as they rode over a not quite natural-looking land bridge over the river. If this does not work on the rabbits, then it will definitely not work on any of the other more credible threats like wolves, badgers, bears, or cougars.

They started with fire, lighting arrow tips and firing into the open holes of the warren they could see. Since these were mystics, the holes looked big enough for a medium dog to get lost in, and it didn’t take long before half a dozen angry, supernatural, oddly colored rabbits rushed them.

The first volley of the prototype arrows all missed, hissing and boiling wherever they broke. Crossbows, Beryn thought again. The longbows just cannot launch such heavy arrow tips with any accuracy. The puzzle of whether they would have the supplies to teach the blacksmiths how to make them on a broad scale was a different puzzle.

Finally, one struck a big male rabbit right in his shoulder and burst. He fell over on his side and screamed the way rabbits do when hurt. He erupted in gouts of flame that were much more intense than any of them had seen up to this point; it danced on the spikes that ran down his back the most intensely and sizzled through his weird forked tail.

He abruptly stopped screaming, and soundlessly stood up. His eyes opened, bloody pools that streaked lines down his once faintly blue cheeks. His coat turned all black; burned in the unnatural flames that roared off of him and did not emanate heat or catch anything around them.

He pivoted in a manner that was so smooth that it looked all wrong and caught another mystic rabbit by her throat, biting down. Beryn winced, surely she must be dead, but the fire spread to her, pouring from him over her. Her wide open eyes filled with that red-blood like substance, and she kicked herself free and charged the men nearest her.

Oh no, it spreads. “Kill it! Open fire on them both. Hit them til they drop!”

Other rabbits were running back toward their warren even though actual fire awaited them there. Arrow after arrow went into both beasts, but only the second one went down. The first one leaped at one of her men. This had also not happened before, so Beryn signaled a retreat. The man caught fire, screaming, and ran toward the river, black flames spreading across and wreathing his skin.

An elk bugled from the trees, Beryn dropped herself onto the ground as she felt sure it was about to take off her head, it had bugled from so close by. However, he leaped over her and her men, charging the rampaging rabbit mystic. They prioritize killing these things?

Men ran passed her as she watched the big, red elk lower his head and ram the black flame wreathed mystic, smashing him into a tree with a brutal crunching sound. He is a little incredible looking, she could not help but think, looking at the cloud of fluff that floated from around his neck like a cloud and along his back, now dappled with red blood as he shook his white antlers. Flowers wreathed through them, and the wrapped his legs, but they wilted as he shook his head to remove the body of the slain rabbit mystic. The white cloud of softness burned away as he screamed and caught fire.

For a minute, she thought they were all done for, but the massive mystic kept charging his way southward.

On the ground, the mystic rabbit was twitching out the last bits of life he had. Then, in a rattling, screaming voice, “I CURSE ALL OF YOU. THE LAND WILL TURN TO POISON!”

His flames went out and everything was achingly quiet. His body, bones and all, collapsed in on themselves, and where he had been, black-purple ooze spread. The tree he was near withered, shedding yellowed leaves on her men. “Retreat!” Beryn called. She turned away, and saw that four of her men had somehow managed to capture a young brown mystic rabbit, each of them with - who running back, some of them dragging a young rabbit that she had not even noticed them capturing in ropes strung tightly between them.

She felt impressed and warm toward them. That was dangerous, but they did that for me. She wished they had enough food to celebrate with a feast.

***

“Really? You are going to name him a word that means desired in the God’s tongue?” Amalia said when she finally got home that evening.

“Yes,” Rosalea said.

“Are you somehow immune to irony?”

Rosalea sighed. “You wanted him enough to steal him and bring him here.” From behind the barrel, Nauru growled at Amalia.

“He clearly thinks I’m a monster.”

“You did grab him and carry him off and then dump him unceremoniously in a strange human’s lap. It might take him time to forgive you.”

Amalia sighed dramatically.

Everyone was quiet and subdued, and Miri had not tried to come in to play with Rosalea. Silence stretched out between them. “How did the rest of the meeting go?”

“Connall thinks we should try overthrowing the Moryshin. Even his own pack does not believe that’s a good idea, so we decided not to be insane today.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“You think he will suggest it again,” Rosalea stated. She frowned, “Are you certain it is not a good idea?” she asked with much lower tones.

“Ugh, not you too,” Amalia said, flopping over on Rosalea, and squishing her a bit beneath the large head and shoulders.

Rosalea squawked as she was pressed down, and to her surprise Nauru came dancing out, on his tiptoes, puffing up as much as his tiny bony body could manage.

Amalia’s ears came forward, “Oh, wow, look at it,” she said, half sitting up again, but as soon as she showed interest in the puppy and moved like she would come toward him, his courage melted. He screamed and scrabbled back behind the barrel.

“Him,” Rosalea said, air whooshing out of her lungs as Amalia flopped right back down. “And it was quite brave of him to try and come to my defense.”

“Impudent,” Amalia said with a huff. Rosalea wondered if that was directed at her, the puppy, or both of them.

Amalia did not bring up her thoughts on whether the Moryshin should be supplanted. “We have all agreed we will help with the human hunting efforts. Those arrows of theirs have killed two of Connall’s pack… or rather, the pack had to put them down after they went corrupted. Um… One of them didn’t. There was a horrible yellow-green mark on her where the arrow had been that apparently has been slowly spreading.”

Rosalea breathed out slowly. “Can I help?”

“No. You are basically like my pet, you should stay here and look after… your pet, where I can be certain you are safe.”

Rosalea patted Amalia’s head. “I do not think that you can shelter me forever. I am getting tired of standing by while all of you suffer so much. I am good at plenty of things, including understanding how other humans might think.”

“No,” Amalia said again. Rosalea sighed. “Just pet me and be cute, would you?”

Rosalea did as asked, and Amalia seemed to like it, so it felt nice to cuddle and be cuddled. She saw Nauru come partially out and whine, confused by all this. Rosalea held her hand out to him, but he went and hid again. I suppose brave in bursts is a good start.

“I am going to go for a walk,” Amalia said after a few more minutes. “I want to clear my head before we meet up with Connall tomorrow.”

Rosalea nodded.

She dusted herself off and added a little more wood to her fire. “Well, it is about supper time,” she would inform the skulker behind her flour barrel. She would ladle some into the little pan she had used earlier, as well as her own bowl. Then, she sat down, bowl on the opposite side of her from the puppy.

He came out immediately this time. Rosalea picked a bit of meat from the bowl and held it out to him. He came right up to her and gently took it. “You are a smart boy, you remembered,” she praised the cutie. “I want to see if you can do even better,” she said softly. And when she held a new piece out to him, she held it so that he would have to come forward and place his paws on her leg to reach it. He whined at her, and he danced back and forth a little. Then, tentatively, he gave in, stretching his neck as far as he could and standing on the edge of her lap to get his treat. She offered him another one, he was a little quicker to climb onto her to reach it.

“Good boy, Nauru. Come get this one?” She placed a nice juicy bit of meat on the ground in the hollow space of her crossed legs. Nauru fidgeted and whimpered. “Come here,” she said, softly. “Come on,” he took a faltering step toward her. “Good boy, come on.”

He very carefully placed his paws on her leg. She didn’t move, just continued making soothing and encouraging noises. He leaned forward, but could not reach the treat. He strained, but he could not reach, so he slowly placed his first paw on the ground in the hollow of her legs. By degrees, he crawled forward, putting down his other paw and pulling his back legs one at a time onto her thigh. She very carefully, very slowly began stroking his body as he grabbed up the morsel of meat. He flinched and shivered at first, but after a moment he was still. He remained in her lap, and she continued stroking him, adjusting him a little bit so he would be less awkward as she held the pan of soup for him to pick out whatever he wanted and try the broth.

Bit by bit, he relaxed, and he even closed his eyes as she stroked him. She was gentle with every movement, feeling each little bone in his ribs and spine as her hand passed down his back. He finished his food, and she stroked the sides of his face gently, and he even let her clean the gunk out the corners of his eyes. He became drowsy very quickly. Rosalea was pleased, even if he had a long day that he seemed at ease with her.

She leaned and he gave her a suspicious side-eye, but when she picked up her own bowl of food and began eating, he huffed and settled against her, nestling his nose against her knee. I wonder if the mystics have some sort of words from the Gods, and that is why I am still here. Or if I do have something I can do to help with the war. Even left alone with nothing but her thoughts and a dozing wild wolf, Rosalea could not find answers.

She started to feel warm and tired. She tried to remove her outer clothes, but it was awkward with the puppy in her lap. As soon as she disturbed him, he got up and ran. She sighed. He huffed at her from behind his favorite hiding spot. Oh well, that was a lot of progress for one day.

She climbed into bed, the place now only dimly lit as the fire burned down. She lay still, willing sleep to come. After several moments, she heard whimpering from a dark corner of the room.

“Well then, come over here,” she said. “You do not have to be alone. Come here, Nauru.”

Silence. She yawned and stretched, rubbing her face on the side of her pillow. Then, the whimpering again.

She sighed. She got out of her bed and slowly felt around, until she found the puppy hiding back behind her flour barrel. He squealed and flailed as she went to pick him up, but she shushed him and stabilized him, picking him up and moving to her bed. She got in and held him close, pulling the covers up.

He was quiet as she tiredly stroked him. Just when she thought he was going to sleep against her, he got uncomfortable and began whimpering and panting at her. She let him out of the covers. He paced for a while, and so she began petting him again with her finger tips. He came closer for that. She kept stroking him, “See, not all by yourself.”

He turned a few circles and then half fell against her stomach as he tried to half lay on top of her, but slid down. She helped him settle, and kept stroking him. She fell asleep shortly after him.

“Mom?” Rosalea stopped whatever she was doing. She looked around, she was in the middle of a forest. She had a half-fashioned knife in her hand. And her hand was bleeding for some reason. She couldn’t see Lio.

“Mom?” Rosalea stood up and dropped the knife, forgetting about the blood and looking around, frantically.

“Why doesn’t mom want me?” It was Lio’s voice… and another child-like voice at the same time.

“Lio!” Rosalea screamed, her heart breaking. “I want you!” Then darkness came…

Rosalea blinked awake and shook her head. She didn’t know which was worse: dreams about Fen or dreams about Lio… It was light outside. Nauru was scratching about the edges of the shelter and had clearly worked on the door and whimpering urgently.

I guess Amalia never came back last night. It will be just you and me a lot, I think, she thought as she got up. “I am coming, sweetie.” She pulled her clothes back on, and as a precaution put a bit of rope around him, which he seemed confused by. Then she scooped him, even though he squawked about it, and pressed him close. “Nauru,” she said again, trying to impress into him the idea of being wanted; as if she could press it through this little one and into the little one she had left behind.