Gray clouds never seemed to dissipate; the Ragan continued to flap its wings at a steady pace. The elven baby making giddy sounds due to riding through the foggy mist of clouds. Gabusmead, concerned about his friend’s well being, pondered what he could ask to make this ride ease tension. The village incident was something that shocked them both in several different ways. The screams, the bloodshed, and the betrayal, was something they could never truly process.

“Winthorp, once this fluff monster stops, let’s stop at a tavern.” Gabusmead shouted down to his friend.

Winthorp, without uttering a single syllable, only gave a weak thumbs up. Gabusmead felt useless in this instance because he had never witnessed Winthorp never speak or be in such a melancholy state. Gabusmead was left truly speechless and this uncomfortable silence made his stomach turn. Gabusmead felt he was breaking out into a cold sweat as he rubbed the back of prickly neck. The only sound that interrupted the silence was the brute force of the Ragan’s beating wings and the elven baby slowly drifting to rest with his tiny sleep sounds. Gabusmead wished he could also rest, but he found it near impossible with how he physically and emotionally felt. Instead he titled his back to look up at the fogged sky, wondering where they would venture to next. At this pace, they would be arriving in another part of the world they have not seen before. This also troubled Gabusmead, the worry of a new place and starting again frightened him. However; Gabusmead’s thoughts were disrupted with an all too familiar sound.

“Gabus! Yee alright!?” Winthorp shouted in a raspy voice up to his friend.

Suddenly, a high pitched shrill sound echoed in Gabusmead’s ears. The sound was something he wished would end. Gabusmead poked his head down to his friend and the look of uncertainty spread across his face. Winthorp slowly began to climb up the Ragan’s leg toward his friend, but something else occurred that caused a sense of continued uneasiness. An unknown shadowy figure ricocheted off of the Ragan’s snout. The Ragan roared in pain and shook its head rapidly due to the sudden pain. Distracted, the Ragan slowly began to descend from the sky to the coarse rocky ground. Winthorp quickly climbed up and carefully moved toward Gabusmead. He grasped onto the knapsack as an extra support for the elven infant not to get hurt.

The Ragan lost its balance and their legs began to skid and trip onto the mound of dirt and rock. Soon they had crashed and the Ragan slowly lifted itself up. The dust cleared from the Ragan’s fall and the shadowy figure collapsed right in front of them Winthorp decided to take the initiative and see what possibly caused them to hurtle roughly into their current surroundings.

“Gabus, ya stay here with the little lad.”

Gabusmead held the knapsack close to him as the bag began to wiggle about and giggle softly. As Winthorp lowered himself by sliding down the Ragan’s puffy cotton like legs, he noticed the shadowy figure groan and twitch from the pain of crashing into a fluffy beast. Winthorp slowly unhooked his weapon from his back leather straps and slowly made his way to the unknown figure.

“Alrighty whatever ya arr’, I hope yee are prepared for a thrashin’!”

Winthorp ran forward and leaped in front of the Ragan, spinning his weapon in the process. What Winthorp witnessed, soon made him regret his actions. A small fuzzy being was whimpering on the ground and it seemed too timid to even fight back. Winthorp didn’t lower his weapon though, for all he knew, it could be an elaborate ruse.

“Who are ya lad? What are yee plottin?”

The small fuzzy being soon revealed itself, rubbing their head due to being hit with such a heavy impact. Prominent in the fuzzy creature’s demeanor was fear as soon as the fuzzy being came too. Their ears were pointed downward and the creature began to twiddle its paws. Winthorp even noticed how the fuzzball had their bare feet crossed out of sheer nervousness. Their squeaky yet husky voice finally trembled out of their mouth.

“Ple-…Pleas-…Please lower…your weapon…please?”

Winthorp, stunned by the creature’s child-like voice, placed the weapon in front of him, but placed it close enough in case he needed to reach it. Then Winthorp placed his stubby arms up to show that he would not harm the creature.

“See laddy, I put me weapon down. You a beast folk I take it?”

The creature gently nodded their head, still trembling.

“Will ya tell me your name and business friend?”

The creature cautiously stepped back a few feet, but failed to see the rough stone poking out of the dirt path. The creature fell backward and the terrified expression widened across their fluffy face. Winthorp walked toward the creature and held out his pudgy hand to assist the creature but Winthorp was soon taken aback. The creature revealed a sizable wingspan protruding from their arms. The creature flew backward into a tree and sank into the grass; defeated and highly embarrassed. Winthorp ran over to the creature to ensure they didn’t have any serious injuries. Blood began to trickle down from the creature’s head and the creature attempted to wipe this away.

“My na-...nam-...is Nim-...Nimbus. Plea-....Please…I can’t see at all. I don’t want you hur-hurt me…” Nimbus said in young squeak, yet husky male voice.

“Ahh, so yee not a clumsy lot. Yee are blind I take it?”

The creature decided to trust Winthorp, sensing that he did not want to bring them any sort of harm.

“Yes…I am a beast folk to answer your question, I am a species of bat. I can’t see without my glasses…can you please hel-...help me find them…I am sorry I crashed into your Ragan.”

Winthrop let out a heavy exhale and decided to trust the creature who was shaking as if they saw a witch.

“Aye lad, I will help ya with yee search.”

The helpless bat looked into Winthorp’s eyes, still terrified, but there was some mutual trust exchanged in one another’s eyes. The bat swiftly flung one of his ears up and it twitched rapidly. He could sense that Winthorp was not alone; footsteps began to gently patter onto the cracked dirt path. The bat also heard the tiniest sounds that was with the other being heading toward Winthorp.

“Yee alright thar’ Winthorp?” called out Gabusmead who was cautiously heading toward them.

“Yee can come out Gabus, this here fellow won’t hurt yee.”

Gabusmead emerged from the shadows with the eleven baby poking its head out of the knapsack. The infant giggled at the bat and had no sense of fear with his first time seeing a beast folk. The bat’s eyes glistened at the sight of the elven baby; amazed by how the infant was not screaming or horrified by the bat’s appearance. Gabusmead, on the other hand, was shocked by the bat’s outward form and stumbled back in a defensive stance. Winthorp gazed back at Gabusmead and gave an affirming look that ensured things were safe.

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“I’m sorry, I know my appearance is not…desirable. I am used to people thinking I’m a monster.” Nimbus whimpered quietly.

Winthorp let out a boisterous laugh that made both Gabusmead and Nimbus jump.

“Yee think we dwarves are desirable? We rough and tumble lot covered in dirt and blood?”

Winthorp continued to laugh and the other two just looked at one another as if Winthorp was driven to madness. Winthorp was chuckling so hard, tears streamed from his face. With one final snort, Winthorp looked at the heavily confused bat.

“We shall find yee glasses lad.”

The bats ears shot up with excitement and even formed a small grin on their face. Winthorp grabbed the bat’s paw, gently guiding him along and Gabusmead stood behind Nimbus as well in case he were to stumble again. Gabusmead noticed the bat had some arrows in a quiver strapped to his back. Curiosity struck and Gabusmead slickly took one of the arrows out for observation. These arrows in particular were unique due to how they were crafted; each arrow had different types of minerals that ranged from typical to extremely rare. The one Gabusmead examined was made of gold which had embedded cravings from the top that creased until the end of the shaft.

“What are yee playing at?” Gabusmead asked with a rather intense tone.

“I-...I beg your pardon?” Nimbus muttered anxiously.

Gabusmead then decided to pull out numerous arrows from Nimbus’s quiver and made sure to made sure he knew about it whether he could see or not.

“Yee have arrows of all sorts of metals and rarities. When were yee thinkin’ of strikin us?”

Winthorp turned to his friend and the glare from his stare could make even a ghost shriek. Gabusmead remained neutral; not to give into the glare from his friend.

“Well, yee going to talk?”

“Well…those arrows are handcrafted specifically for me. Each one of those arrows has a unique craving so I know which one I need or want to use depending on how much damage I need to inflict. So…yeah. I promise I wasn’t going to use it on either of you”

Winthorp, still dragging Nimbus, whipped around until he was face to face with his friend. They could feel the hot breath lingering from one another and the cold blackened eyes they shared were like daggers.

“Gabus, yee need to calm yee self. Going through someone else’s stuff and harassin’ them is not thee way to go about this.”

“Winthorp, how can we trust such a creature? He could eat our little lad here or worse-...kill-”

Before Gabusmead could finish his sentence, Winthorp swiftly sent a blow to Gabusmead’s stomach that slowly made him collapse to the ground. Winthorp unhooked his knapsack where the elven infant had once again fallen asleep among the chaos and placed the knapsack onto his back.

“Aye Gabus, yee have little faith. Need ya forget, the beastfolk have sworn loyalty to us dwarves? Where else yee think me father got a flying Ragan? From his arse?”

With Gabusmead groaning in pain at he the punch he received, Nimbus’s curiosity rose at Winthorp’s statement.

“Who was your father, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Winthorp chuckled a bit before he answered.

“Me father was Bilgard Cvorkin, he had just come back from visitin’ yer land.”

Nimbus’s demeanor changed drastically and he was bowing before Winthorp. Puzzled; Winthorp’s eyebrows furrowed with the sight before him. Gabusmead, who was slowly recovering and lifted himself, was also surprised by this. Gabusmead returned the favor and sent a blow to Winthorp’s shoulder.

“That’s what yee get for me tryin’ to protect yer rear end ya fool. Trustin’ the first thing we see on our own. Yee scare me sometimes by how little yee think.”

Winthorp chuckled along with his friend and playfully punched him back. The two friends completely ignoring Nimbus’s polite gesture. Slowly lifting his head from the bow, he stared baffled by their simple mindedness.

“Um, well…it is a pleasure to meet you both. Bilgard talked highly of his clan and always looked out for us when we needed it. He’s a legend where I’m from.”

Silence had fallen between both the dwarves and their cheerful mood soon brought them back to their harsh reality. Without a word, Winthorp and Gabusmead continued to guide the bat along the dirt path. Nimbus felt embarrassed by suddenly spoiling the mood somehow and decided not to ask any further questions. They scouted not too far from where the bat had landed when he torpedoed into the ground. Gabusmead split from Winthorp for a second to check in some prickly shrubbery. Winthorp continued a bit further ahead of Gabusmead to see if the pair of spectacles were sent further out. Winthorp was once again preoccupied with his thoughts of his clan. The horrors he witnessed and the betrayal of his brother. Winthorp felt powerless and pathetic by watching all the chaos around him; not being able to do a single thing to save anyone. That was his family and that life was all he knew, he never envisioned such revelations unfolding.

Winthorp had forgotten for a moment that he was with Nimbus and just continued to be lost in thought; seeming to lead nowhere. Winthorp heard the faint sounds of Nimbus trying to get Winthorp’s attention, but he was trapped in his mind. A single sound however, snapped him out of this trance.

CRUNCH

Nimbus knew the sound all too well because this was something he was familiar with all his life. Winthorp begrudgingly looked at the bottom of his boot and saw the cracked glass strewn across the ground and his boot. Winthorp bent down to pick up the shattered frames and without thinking, placed them on the bridge of Nimbus’s nose.

“You found my glasses, eye see…” Nimbus said in a humorous tone and pointed to his dark circular eyes. Trying to make light of the situation, Winthorp was already barraging Nimbus with apologies.

“I am so sorry lad! I will get yee a better pair when we get you to Csteria! I hope yee have good places out thar’ that fix these!”

Nimbus shook his head affirming for Winthorp not to worry.

“I do this all the time, so much so, I have extra pairs the way you are heading. The only thing I want you two to worry about is getting me back home.”

Winthrop nodded and both of them trudged back to meet Gabusmead. Not realizing they were a bit away, Nimbus was unsure if he should poke and prod about earlier’s exchange. Now that he could see somewhat with his cracked octagonal view of things, he could see visibly that Winthorp’s face and appearance was rough on the exterior, but someone who was carrying a lot of emotional weight. Nimbus decided when the time was right he would ask appropriately about his family.

Finally getting back to where they started, they found Gabusmead applying some sort of cream on his hands due to pokes from the prickly bushes he decided to look in. The cream he applied seeped into his skin and slowly began to heal the cuts he had received.

“Aye lad, yee ready to get back out there on the Ragan and head to Csteria?” Winthrop bellowed as he patted Nimbus’s back a bit too hard. Nimbus needed to adjust his glasses carefully due to the brutish force of the Winthorp applied to his back.

“Aye! Also, Nimbus was it? I am sorry about accusin’ yee of wantin’ to hurt us. We have been through the wringer and our first time setting out alone ya see and-”

“Quit all yee blubberin’ ya oaf! Yee are just scared of the beastfolk and won’t admit it.” Winthrop interrupted Gabusmead mockingly and Gabusmead averted his gaze from his friend. Flustered and trying to find a way to change the subject, Gabusmead got on his knees to continue his apology.

“I just want to say…sorry. That was not right of me to accuse ya like that.”

Nimbus looked as though he was uncomfortable and blushed slightly. No one had ever given him this amount of respect or apology before, so he grew quite overwhelmed as it was happening and left him speechless.

“Get up ya pathetic lot! Ya maybe smart in the head, but dumb with everything else lad…and you were callin me thick headed!”

Winthorp lifted Gabusmead off the dusty dirt path and stuck his hand out toward Nimbus.

“Let’s just shake on it like true men should. Forgiven?”

Nimbus cautiously held out his paw, worried Winthorp’s tight grip might crack a bone or two.

“For-...Forgiven.”

Winthorp tightly gripped Nimbus’s paw as predicted and a small yelp slipped out. Winthorp just bellowed with laughter.

“Lad, yee need to handle a grip of a man! A strong grip can show how tough ya ar’!” Nimbus nodded as he rubbed his tiny paws throbbing in agony.

Winthorp began to stomp forward back to the Ragan as Gabusmead and Nimbus followed. The three of them climbed the Ragan up on its puffy legs to get back on its back. Before taking off, Winthorp opened the knapsack to check on their little eleven friend. The baby was still asleep soundly and Winthorp chuckled watching the tiny being; not even a single tear shed so far this trip. Winthorp exclaimed out loud something that took both Nimbus and Gabusmead by surprise.

“This wee lad shall be named Nolan! Nolan the brave!” As Winthorp exclaimed this, the Ragan took the initiative and began to leap for a running start before lifting into the air. Gabusmead and Nimbus held onto one another as they soon found themselves back into the pools of gray. Winthorp, seemingly in a better state of mind, shouted into the night’s dim sky.

“Onward! TO CSTERIA!”