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Turning his attention to the bound fox, Kieran approached Riven with a measured purpose. He knelt down, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Despite the restraint, Kieran spoke with a tone that carried both authority and a glimmer of understanding. "You have two choices now," he began, his words deliberate. "You can cooperate and answer our questions, or you can remain silent and face the consequences when we reach our destination. The latter, I assure you, won't be pleasant."

Riven's grin widened, a malevolent glint in his eyes as if the very thought of compliance amused him. "The Emberlands is an anarchist territory," he declared, the words hanging like a veiled threat.

Kieran, unfazed, met Riven's gaze with an unwavering determination. "I know," he responded evenly. "I'm not talking about the law. So, will you comply or not?"

Riven's silence stretched for a tense moment, the only sound the rhythmic clatter of the train on its tracks. Then, with an unsettling chuckle, he leaned back against the ropes that bound him, looking at Kieran with his muzzle in an upward angle.

"You've got guts, Dravenholm," Riven rasped, his tone a blend of mockery and amusement. "Alright, ask your questions. I might even answer them." His lips curled into a smile that was more a baring of teeth than any expression of mirth.

The minty fox took note of the fact that he knew his last name. Only a few from Dawnbreak know it, mainly the authorities; that in itself answered a considerable amount of questions for him.

Kieran, undeterred by Riven's theatrics, kept his gaze steady. "Who do you work for? Why is Tessa a target?"

Riven's eyes, momentarily glazed, refocused on Kieran. "Ah, now that's the question, isn't it? I'm not just a pawn, you know. As for the girl, let's just say her past is catching up with her."

Kieran's mind raced, searching for the right inquiries that might unravel the tangled web of motives. Tessa, still curled up in her corner, watched the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and lingering fear. Kieran's jaw clenched at the frustration of dealing with adversaries that insisted on being so vague.

"Enough with the nonsense. Who wants Tessa, and why?"

Riven's grin widened. "It's not just about her. It's about what she carries within her. The key to a power that can reshape worlds. As for who wants her… that is hard to explain if I were to answer you, but right now I want her.”

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Kieran paused. “Hmm… yes, you did say you are not a pawn. You’re acting alone?” he asked.

“Correct,” Riven nodded. “There isn’t just one faction after your friend. Haha! Friend!” The brown fox’s ear twitched rapidly, then rested.

That opened up a lot of possibilities to Kieran. It made sense; if she really did hold so much power, or was meant for such greatness, then of course everyone who knew about it would be chasing her to manipulate that power for their own ambitions or motives. “Why do you want her?” he inquired genuinely.

“That is for me to know, not you,” the fox with the red bandanna stated flatly.

“Fair enough,” said the bounty hunter. Riven's refusal to divulge his motives only deepened the intrigue surrounding Tessa. It was also possible that maybe this man, who had already proven himself agile and sneaky, could have found out his last name by overhearing the guards of the city, or meeting Malachai and deciding to have a go at taking Tessa himself before anyone else could. “You said the name Malachai Whitewood rang a bell. How so?”

Riven huffed. “Ugh. That bastard. He’s all talk and no bite. Bite! Bite!” He cocked his head to the side in an involuntary movement.

The minty fox blinked. “You could say that. How’d you meet him?”

The cut-throat gave a half-smile. “He and I have a history, though not a good one. We used to be in a posse, grew up together. Eventually, he got himself exiled for constantly being drunk, while I stayed behind and became a high ranking member.”

The name Malachai, usually spoken with a sneer, carried a weight of disdain in Riven's voice.

"Exiled for being constantly drunk, huh?" Kieran mused, a wry smile playing on his lips. "That does sound like Malachai. So, you're saying you two were once comrades, brothers even?"

Riven's eyes, a mix of derision and resentment, bore into Kieran's. "Comrades? Brothers? Maybe once. But he changed, became obsessed with power. I stood my ground, stayed true to our ideals. He was always looking for shortcuts, ways to climb the ladder faster. Dumb-ass got jealous of my success, and picked a fight with me one day, after being cast out."

Kieran listened intently as Riven's words painted a vivid picture of a tumultuous past. “How did that pan out for the two of you?”he asked.

“I won, of course!” Riven growled proudly, lashing his puffed up tail. “I hate that man so much. Hate him.”

It was an interesting history the two shared, and he could see how it would make sense given what he’d seen of Malachai. The rapist did not seem like the most brave or capable of men, and was in actuality quite weak.

“Malachai doesn’t sound like he’d be the leader of any group, so that answers some things for me. He sounds like a follower. Now, I must ask… What do you know about the corruption in Dawnbreak?” Kieran queried, liking how willing he was to talk. Compared to Whitewood, this was easy work.

Riven snorted and laughed maniacally. “You’re not seriously asking me that, are you, Spearmint?” he licked his lips, and smirked. “Tellers get put in cellars. Don’t you know?”

‘Spearmint…?’ he thought, a little taken aback by the sudden nickname. He chose not to argue against it. Kieran's thoughts were a whirlwind of questions. He glanced at Tessa, who sat quietly, her starry fur shimmering in the ambient light, an enigma wrapped in uncertainty.

Riven chuckled, breaking the silence. "You're in over your head, Dravenholm. This is a game of gods, and you're just a pawn stumbling through their moves. I am not such a pawn, thankfully."

The mention of gods sent a shiver down Kieran's spine. "Fine, if you won't speak of the corruption, then enlighten me about Tessa. What power lies within her?" Kieran asked.