Scotia (skoh-sha)

Gender: Female

Age: around 16

Hair: Red

Eyes: Green

Pet: female vulpa Sandy (trained)

Aspirant at: Descas Doll made from base at Delusional Reality - no longer dollz site

"Who'd want to be a Ninja anyway?" Scotia asked to no one in particular, especially since there was no one but her vulpa Sandy by her side. They walked through the light woods south east of Dun Keiba proper, near the fishing community at the lake.

She muttered about the Ninjas who wanted to train her - they'd come upon her as she stalked her prey. She was a tedra hunter - well, trapper really. They were lucrative business on the coasts and in port towns, since trade caravans often found that children of rich merchants loved the little furballs. They were useless otherwise, barely of any great impact for food, best for just looking at and allowing bigger animals to chase. No one thought much of the little animals when they were pests.

But she was quite good at stalking them. She and her vulpa worked as a great team, seemingly enjoying an empathic bond of strong proportion as they snuck up on a pair of rutting tedra. The ninja watched, quietly, and even Sandy hadn't caught their scent until the pair of teds had been caught in a small trap.

Startled by the appearance of the formally trained enforcers, Scotia almost dropped the cage - and therefore almost lost her days' wage.

"Can't believe they just snuck up on us like that, Sandy," she said, and at the mention of her name the vulpa yipped happily. "I mean - the nerve! This is my forest." Honestly she didn't think that anyone could surprise her. She knew the woods and the surrounding areas. Where were there Ninjas being trained anyway? Around here? Dun Keiba didn't have any, did they? They had draks and knights, after all. Why would they need enforcers?

The sting that she hadn't expected was that she hadn't even heard them coming. She was so intent on her prey that she had let her guard down - but then again, why should she expect to be the object of a hunt herself? She wasn't wanted, she hadn't broken any laws that she knew of. This wasn't private land, was it?

But they had been impressed. Even though they snuck up on her. They'd gotten close enough to watch, but they actually confessed that they felt as though any closer and she'd have caught them. They were not used to that feeling. Somehow, though, she couldn't appreciate it. But they would watch her - she didn't know that. She hadn't realized that they wanted to recruit her, until they openly asked her if she wanted to be trained in the stealthy and martial arts.

She refused - it wasn't a job she wanted to do, after all. She didn't like the thought of being stuck defending a group of people. Of course she wasn't much for the Mob angle either - and she'd made the mistake of stumbling into one of their lairs in her childhood. They'd almost killed her, but she got away then.

Maybe that was why the Ninjas wanted her. Maybe not. She didn't care. She took her chiz pair to the market and tried to forget the stinging embarassment of being watched.

***

The sales in the market were increasing with the summer traffic. It would be planting season in some parts of the countryside, and that meant a lot of trade in seeds, fertilizers and tools. What it also meant was certain grain harvesters would snub her own animals. They were vermin, and fed on the hard work that their farms produced.

She'd long since learned to avoid those types. Merchants with goods that were of no interest to teds - metals, leathers, pottery, that sort of thing - were who she targeted. Besides, they were also the ones who could give her a better price, or trade for more interesting goods. She could find food on her daily travels. She was an adept forest woman, after all. She hunted regularly, ate under the stars. She did like good fresh baked breads, and there was a particular baker that she enjoyed getting muffins and rolls from. They kept well in her bag. Today, she'd traded off the last of her captured teds, and needed to get supplies to make some more simple cages, as well as some breads.

The baker's shop was a frequent stop for almost any traveler, of course. Today being a market day it was extra busy. There was a group of merchants haggling with the baker, and trying to cheat him out of some really good black-bread. Scotia loved that blackbread, it was so heavy that it made her want to sleep whenever she ate it, but it was so rich with flavor...

"It's worth twice what you're offering," Scotia said, butting her way into the front of the line, sparking a glimmer of happy recognition in the baker's face. Neither of them had seen this batch of merchants before, so they seemingly decided to gang up on them. "I'd pay two rez for that, easy." She looked over the pans, and saw that there were only two flats of that bread left. "In fact I think I will. Both of them."

"Fa-ther!" Whined one young girl, "she's taking all the bread!"

"I'll take the lot for three rez, and no more," grumbled the man, whose daughter glared daggers at Scotia. The animal trapper merely smirked at the girl. She could smell the next pan of blackbread baking in the back.

Not too eagerly, the baker offered up the pair of pans, wrapping the breads in paper and accepting his price. The group left, and the baker waited half a moment before erupting in a guffaw. "You sure had them! Thanks girl! He saw that Sandy was waiting patiently at the door, and offered Scotia a stale piece of something to keep the vulpa amused.

The rest of the patrons bought their goods, and finally the last flat of blackbread was brought out by the baker's son. He was a good looking young man, if a little stout around the waist like his father. But being a baker, of course, Scotia thought that was perfectly natural. She liked the way he looked at her - appraising her muscular frame and dwelling on the fact that she'd started to really look more like a young woman, than a teenage gangly girl. She would always look a little wild, her hair was always a bit mussed and she'd rarely been seen without a batch of scrapes and scratches on her lightly tanned skin.

"This is yours," the baker asserted, "I'd never have gotten that price for the others. They were stale pans anyway."

"Good," Scotia giggled. "Served them right. Snobby little brats." They made a bit of small talk before Scotia noticed that it was getting into later afternoon and the goods she was looking for might be getting scarce. "I've got to find some wire, my traps are about done. I'll see you in a few weeks," she bid them farewell.

She heard the baker commenting to his son that she'd never make a good wife for him - she was too quick and much too skinny, even though she seemed to love his breads...

Smiling, Scotia found the wire and metal makers. She had a set of leather squares that had been tanned beautifully, and a pair of bells - they were useless to her, making noise was not on her agenda while hunting. Those would have to do for a trade. This week the wirecutter had strong gauge wires, which he offered to twist into mesh for her - he explained that their thinner wire would be back in stock once the laborers in the mine where he bought some of his metals stopped striking.

"What have they got to strike about?" Asked Scotia as he worked a pair of medium sized traps into shape, "they're well paid."

"But the mines have been flooding recently, something about the ice in the mountains melting," he explained, "and they've been caught drowning twice now. I can't say as I blame them, but you know what that'll mean..."

"Prices will go up," she sighed. "Then I might need to make these last."

"Why don't you trap bigger prey, then?" Asked the wiresmith, "your little tedra are ... cute, and all..." He had a young daughter who seemed to love the little hamster like creatures, but he obviously didn't think much of them himself. "But couldn't you pull a better wage with, well, vulpa are good trade animals. Good pelts on them."

"I won't hunt them," Scotia said. "Sandy and I ..."

"You don't have to kill em," the wire maker said, as he handed her the square-framed traps, "their pelts are common enough but they make good companion animals - you know that. You could breed them."

"Hrm," Scotia said. "Maybe when I'm older," she admitted. "Right now, I'd be more interested in trapping than training. Sandy and I are kind of connected."

"I can see that," the man said, smiling. He accepted the bells (his daughter would just adore those) and two of the leather plates. "That's something you can't just buy and sell, either. Good luck on your hunts," he said as she left.

It was evening already - and Scotia had nowhere to stay except back at the woods. An hour away? Perhaps she could find a nice corner... She could hardly afford a stay in an inn here, not during a merchantry season. Plus she was getting hungry, and she didn't want to waste her blackbread...

So she headed back out of town, the busy noise of the lakeport fading into the dark behind her.

***

Exhausted, Scotia didn't notice the eyes upon her. Sandy was equally worn out from the long day's bartering, but she seemed to be smelling something. Attuned to her animal companion, Scotia paused for a moment and then prepared her bedroll. It was at one of her normal sleeping haunts - a curved tree trunk that sheltered a scoop of soft sandy dirt. Sandy had been born in one of these nooks, that and her color gave her the name. They set down and Scotia munched on a small piece of bread before falling into a sound sleep.

She would be hungry when she woke, but that was normal for her. She claimed it gave her a good hunter's edge. Living in the wilderness was something she had been used to all her life. Though she was familiar with people, trade, and merchantry, she had never known a family. Either abandoned at a young age, or orphaned - no one knew, least of all her - Scotia wandered the woodlands before being halfway tamed by a farming community. At the young age of six, she'd learned to capture tedra with her hands.

There was something about her way of speaking, perhaps. Or it was just that she had a kind of animal tuned personality. Either way, most animals responded to her in those days. She didn't feel at all bad when she had to hunt for meat - that was part of life. But she knew the difference between an animal which could get money for her, and one which was too ugly to sell. She learned the plants and animals, and how to remain silent while walking through the woods even casually. As a ranger and hunter, she was almost unchallenged.

Until those ninja found her.

What was up with that? It gnawed at her mind while she slept, even as the hunger in her belly gnawed at her gut.

Sandy woke up sharply barking, but was silenced a moment later. Scotia was exhausted, so waking up was difficult.

It was made easier when she felt herself being pulled out from her sleep nook feet-first, roughly by strong hands. Two more grasped her arms, another pair, her waist. A last pair found her mouth and wrapped a cloth around her face before she could scream. It wasn't as though screaming would do any good, here. There was no one but her, Sandy... And the Mob.

***

Glaring at her captors, Scotia was more worried about Sandy than herself. The vulpa was very protective, but not terribly strong. She'd be getting into danger by snapping at the mob men. Scotia didn't want to risk losing her only true friend. She tried to calm herself first, and then Sandy - she knew that it might be futile, but she tried it anyway, and to an extent she succeeded.

The vulpa lay her head down and merely continued to growl at anyone that came close to her - but she stopped barking and snapping at anyone. Her tail twitched occasionally, but the vulpa obediently remained calm.

"See, I told you she could do it," said one man gruffly. "She's one of those folks."

The other mob men seemed to agree - and who were they? They weren't the same ones from the Mob she'd encountered before, that was clear. Perhaps they were new to the area? But that would be impossible, if they knew something about her. How did they know?

The older man with a gristly scar running along his forehead looked at the girl. "Everyone we found with one of those damn little furballs, vermin like tedra should be eliminated. All the kids pleaded with us to let their pets live..." He chuckled, and Scotia closed her eyes to the malicious grin on his ugly face. "They all said you had traded 'em to them. We got word of you, everywhere we went."

"Hard to avoid you, girl," said another. He was hard to see in the night, his dark skin was richly brown, but he too had bright scars on his otherwise unmarked skin. "Everyone knows you, no one was sure of anything but that you live out here."

"Woods are dangerous at night," said the other, a blond haired young man. "Aren't they?" The others laughed. Scotia blinked away tears. They would probably hurt her. They would probably kill poor Sandy. If she hadn't been so insistant on not spending any of her scant coins that day, she would have been in a nice bed in an inn. Not here. Not waiting to be raped and murdered...

"We'll make sure that you get a good price," said the older man, as he walked around the fire. "But this thing," he kicked at Sandy who snarled. "It'll have to go. Too noisy."

Scotia's big green eyes pleaded with the man, and she strained at her bonds.

"Oh, you want to keep it? Why? It's not good eating, and the pelt is hardly worth its weight." He laughed again.

Scotia felt the rope around her wrists, trying again to relax. They would have killed her if that's all they wanted, right? She was to be sold to another Mob? Fine. That gave her time. They wouldn't be listening to her pleading, she couldn't bargain for Sandy's life. But she could try and get away - the ropes were rough but they would loosen if she just gently rubbed at them. So carefully, rubbing her skin raw, she did so through the night.

In the dawn, her hands were bloody. But then - three of the four men were asleep, and the vulpa had gnawed through the inexpert ties on her collar. The need for silence and stealth made Sandy wary, when she crept behind the half-sleepy guard. He faced the fire, not either of his captives. When Sandy finally got around to Scotia's back, the ropes had all but fallen off. With a slow and deliberate motion, Scotia dropped the ropes from her hands and rested her hands at her sides to bring some life back into them. If she didn't move much, the guard wouldn't notice her. That was how hunting worked. Motion was key: and stillness was the predator's best friend.

Sandy was ready to kill the men - but she was hardly big enough to do any more than deliver a painful bite. Her mistress was injured, shamed, and her bread had been eaten up by these mobsters.

Of course they'd helped themselves to everything she had - that was how they made their living after all.

But these woods were how Scotia made her living. She knew them nook for nook, branch for branch. So when she did escape, she left her traps and bedroll and everything but Sandy behind. She could get them later. She had something to do now.

She needed to locate those Ninja that had found her.

***

It was nearly noon, and Scotia's progress through the woods was slow. She was physically exhausted, barely having slept and not eaten in more than a full day. Sandy was better off, she could snap up insects or lizards on the way around the woods. Scotia was a bit more picky, and not quite as desperate as all that. She'd been in winters worse for food than this hunger. But she was pressed for time, and for space.

Where had she been when they found her? Ah - her wintering hole, which was a good tedra spot. They had gotten used to her presence over the years, and even though she had to scoot around quietly near their dens, there were a good dozen of them at any time, when she bedded down.

She knew that the Ninjas weren't south of here, they were closer to Dun Keiba, northerly and probably near the next town.

That would make it another day or more before she'd find them. Dare she hunt? Would it be worth it? The Mob men were probably busy hunting her down, but she'd made it hard for them to track her. Her first destination was the river, where she cleaned her wounded wrists and got a good drink. Then she went into the trees. If she could leave no leaf broken on a good day, it must be this day.

The sun was high, and the air was getting quite warm. And she heard the Mob men, behind her by some distance. Perhaps they'd seen her leap from the one tree into the open glade. A bad place for her to do so, but there was nowhere else to go. She had to get north, and the only way was on the road. The woods got too hard and dense, and there was a climb involved on that side of the road anyway.

"There she is!" One of them called. Though she had a good half day ahead, they were apt to travel hard and they'd had food and rest. Why hadn't they assumed she'd go south? Back to the port town? A mystery she wasn't going to bother with. For now, the only mystery was how she could manage to run fast enough, long enough, to get away from the men.

And for half an hour, she did. Even though she could see them two hills back, along the road, she ran. There was no turning now, because the sheer cliff rocks surrounding the road cut off any possibility of overland travel. Their voices echoed in the canyon, harsh words.

Sandy barked, loudly, and stood still, holding her ground. Scotia stopped, her legs throbbing in pain and her hands bleeding again from the running.

She turned to see all four mob men, looming in the bright afternoon glare.

Three of them fell to the dusty ground, at once. Arrows stood from their eyes - one clutched a single bolt in his chest before gurgling to the ground. The fourth, the eldest, glanced at them and then up at the canyon walls. It was a narrow pass, fit for two carts wide at best. The walls of stone rose up at least thirty feet, framed at the tops by trees and bushes. The sun came in only at noon directly, but now in the afternoon bled down the rich red and white rock face on the east side of the canyon.

"Show yourselves! This bitch is mine!" He yelled.

"Those are brave words for a hunted man," said a dark voice, "this girl was claimed by us, not so long ago. You should have known that. I don't even need to worry about a Peacekeeper with you - you've been a wanted man for years. Now - your sentance is served."

Another trio of arrows pierced the man's head, neck and body - and he died glaring at Scotia. Sandy yipped in pleasure, almost displaying the hidden emotion that Scotia held.

She started crying, dropped to her knees, and passed out - right about the time the Ninja came down the walls of the canyon to pick her up.

***

Cool hands against Scotia's face woke her. It was impossible to tell what time it was, or even if it was the same day. Shortly and more comforting than the human hands, was the eager lapping on her cheek from Sandy's tongue. Scotia tried to laugh and pet her vulpa, but when she tried to lift her arm she could barely move.

She opened her eyes carefully, there was torch light along the walls, and a distinct glow from a large fire somewhere down the side of the room she couldn't see. Otherwise it was pleasantly dark. She knew after a moment of thinking, that she was in the Ninja lair. So she didn't make any sounds, she didn't need to ask where she was.

She also didn't need to ask why she could hardly move. She was desperately hungry, and ...

Scotia lifted her head instinctively and looked around for the food she smelled. Someone had brought a mug of soup, it smelled so good that her mouth watered painfully. The attendant lifted her head a bit with one strong hand, and brought the mug to her lips with the other. "It's only warm, you won't scald yourself. Drink up."

Eagerly she did so, draining the mug. It was rich mald-stew, mald being the domesticated beasts that the plains folk herded back and forth across the grasslands. Big animals. Hardly in her hunting range if they were wild - but they were good for all sorts of things... leather, meat, bones.... Scotia fell back to sleep thinking about the time she visited a farm with them, and one calf licked its big blue tongue around her arm...

Shortly though, Scotia woke more earnestly. The soup had brought back a bit of her strength, and there was more of it waiting in a warming pot. Another man, skinnier and younger than the first, helped her to get another cup of it. "We were hoping you'd be awake soon," he said quietly. "You'll need to talk to the Ninja elders, they're really impressed with you."

"I... .I know," she said hesitatingly.

"I think you'd make a great ninja," he said. He might have been just younger than Scotia, he was dark haired with pale skin, big black eyes, and an attractive round face. She could hardly see him in the role of ninja.

"I guess so, but... It's not what I want to do. I like trapping." Sandy was asleep, but her fluffy tail stirred a bit at the sound of her mistress' voice. "I don't want to settle down."

"You probably won't have to," the boy said. He cleaned her chin when she spilled a bit of soup on herself, she wasn't sure if she ought to be embarrassed or thankful he was there. "There are other people interested in you too."

"I know, the Mob wanted to sell me." Suddenly she woke fully, "my things! Out in the--"

"Taken care of, and washed up," he said, of her bed roll and meager clothing and posessions. "But if you want to know the truth, a lot of us are jealous. It's not every day a Judge comes to the Ninja lair. In fact," he looked a bit confounded, "I didn't even know they knew where to find us."

"Some of us do," said a man in the doorway to the infirmary. "Are you more awake now? Fed some more?"

Scotia nodded to both things. The boy looked like he was going to zip away into the shadows, such a ninja thing to do. But the taller man indicated he could stay. This man was darker skinned, with straight, long black hair, and his eyes were ...

"What happened to your eyes?" Scotia asked. She noticed the wince on the boy, but the man - who couldn't have been more than ten years her elder anyway - seemed at ease with that question.

"I was experimented upon when I was younger. It gave me... certain abilities, and took from me certain others." He said, and though that was a mystery into itself, Scotia didn't ask any further. If someone answered with a conundrum, she reasoned, they weren't about to give her a straighter answer anyway. It wasn't her business. It might as well have been a trip and fall down a staircase that made his eyes blacker than night, with his bright blue irises showing upon them.

"And why are you here? You're not Ninja." Scotia's mind slowly regained its clarity, "you're a ... You judge aspirants?"

He smiled, thin lips showing a pleasant batch of bright teeth, and he leaned his head to the side, saying in a silly manner, "for draks too." He regained a serious nature a moment later, while both Scotia and the boy laughed a bit. Scotia's belly hurt so badly from even that laughter that she sighed and put her head back down on the soft pillow. The man stood and came to her side. "You've worn yourself out, young lady. When you're ready to walk, perhaps tomorrow, I'll come back and we will talk about important matters. And I would recommend," he glanced at the boy, "that you also take up this Ninja clan on their offer in the meantime. You escaped from the Mob once, but they won't make that mistake again - with training, you could evade any number of them."

"And they could give me that training," she sighed. "I know that ... but I just like what I do."

"You'll like being a knight even less, then," sighed the Judge, "but I see that's in your future as well. So, rest up, and take some solid food soon. You've been in bed three days now, it's time to get out and stretch."

***

It took another day and a half before Scotia was ready to actually walk on her own. Partly because she felt like pretending to sleep so she could think in private, but partly because she really was quite stiff. The Ninja on duty with her knew she wasn't actually asleep, and he commented to her that her breathing was too regular and measured, it almost sounded as though she were sleeping, but the Ninja knew ways that they could tell. Impressed, and curious, Scotia asked him more about the little things Ninja did - and how they could have caught up with her in her own woods.

"That isn't easy to do," he admitted. "The main thing is that most of us have been doing this since we were children - like you in the woods, I'm thinking."

She nodded, and they walked together into the main halls of the Ninja lair. It was underground, inside the cliff walls to both sides of the road. Where the road wound up around to the west and into the plains, the ninja lair snaked below ground into the other side of the canyon. It was marvelous, mostly carved by machinery or by hand, some natural caverns added to with flat floors and warm hearths.

It was almost entirely silent, there. The few voices she heard were almost whispers, there were some work-sounds like hammering and beating of carpets. But by and large, the place's only constant sounds were the snapping of fires along the walls.

She was taken, wearing nice new warm and well-fit clothing, to what appeared to be the main hall where this clan met. Along the sides of this narrow and long room, were other chambers: offices and training halls. There were several elders sitting at one table - not the main table, at the front of the hall. Just at one table among many. It made her feel more comfortable.

They definitely wanted her to be with them. And slowly she was admitting that she belonged with them. They spoke to her about her abilities, and requested that she show them certain commands she could use on her vulpa without her voice. Though some were physical commands - the slight toss of her head, a wave of a finger... Many of them were purely mental contact. Her bond with the animal was amazing, deeper than most. And they questioned her about her hunting and trapping techniques. She could get so close to an animal that even if she startled it, it would calm a moment later and not spring away.

"Those are things you cannot teach our hunters," said one woman elder, "you have a unique gift."

"But you can learn how to move through a town or building with the same stealth as you used to evade your captors," suggested another man. "Your work in the forest is admirable. To the trained eye, you leave little trace, but even so, there are things you could learn - and I trust you would learn them well."

"I'm glad you didn't just give up on me and let me go my own way, then," Scotia said, "I'd have died..."

"It would have been worse than that," said the third elder. "They have been looking for people like you for years. They'd have wanted you to steal horses and livestock, get guard animals out of their way for theft. They'd try setting you against a Nex, and that I think would have been your death."

"I can't control them," she admitted. "Bugs like that just don't listen to me." She shivered. It was rare that the Nex came into her forest, but when they did... She just got out of their way and let them move through. It seemed though, that that respect too was warranting a positive response in the Ninja. Even they had their limits.

They only knew one man who could take down a Nex with his own hands - and he was standing in the corner with a mug of coffee in his hand. She'd not even noticed him, and normally she was much more perceptive than that. Maybe he'd come in while they were talking?

"With a drak to help you, you could," he suggested. The elders nodded.

"Wait. What's going on here?" Scotia asked, "It's like you both want me to do everything."

"Not everything," said one elder. The Judge nodded.

"So many people seem of the opinion that it's a one or the other kind of life we lead..." He smiled and put his coffee down next to her, and sat. Like a cat, with those eerie black and blue eyes, he looked at her reactions. He was seeing far more than others thought. "It isn't one or the other. I would be trying to find a place for you to stand, so you could come back here and be part of the Ninja clan. One of their others has a drak too - they do guarding work. It's how I met them."

Suddenly it became clear to Scotia that her life would have to change - but she was either so tired of fighting that, or so happy that they were finally going her way ...

"Well, then, I guess... okay! Fine!" She said, tiredly but with a smile. "I'll ... what? What will I do?"

"You'll come with me, first," the Judge said. "We'll take you to a castle and see about putting you on the roster. Then if you pair, you'll train with the Drak until it's grown. And then, at that point," he indicated the group of elders with his long black-nailed fingers, "you would come back here for whatever other training you'd need." He saw the doubt forming again in her eyes. "You would be asked to do only more of what you normally do. They wouldn't insist you train as something you're not. Draks enjoy exploiting their knight's strong points. And you've got some very strong strong points."

"You're quite silly sometimes," Scotia said. "Who are you?"

"My name is Istvan, and I ride Wind Cephari for Dun Keiba. I'm a Judge for aspiration, but I'm also a medic and a fighter."

"Okay, that was just as weird as it could have been," she said. "So do you know where I'll be going?"

"I've asked Cephari to scout out around the castles, and she said she would come back to -- ah." He winced slightly, his eyes blinking hard. "She's back." He said. His voice was suddenly strained. As he stood, he was slightly unsteady. He stabilized as they walked, but Scotia wondered what was wrong with him. He was confident and happy one moment, serious and sedate the next, silly a moment later, and now, what?

He led her up to the top of the clan lair, where a wide opening into the plains and canyons showed off a busy village. It was clearly the cover for their ninja lair - it just looked like a trading post if anything. The livestock pens were kept near the entrance to the lair - who would want to pass by a ... dung pile... (she stepped around it expertly as the other ninjas and the rider did) to get to a hidden cavern lair?

There were two draks outside, one was chirping happily to herself, and the other, a Mud, was trying to ignore her.

"Cephari, would you stop yammering at him?" Asked Istvan, "he's probably had an earful since she got back."

"It isss okay! I found you a plasse to sstand!" She chittered. "DessCass," she hissed, and Istvan nodded.

"Castle Descas, it's in the desert, so you'll be challenged a bit for your hunting. But it's got strong draks." He looked like he was waiting for her to say something.

"I... well, shouldn't I get my things?"

"I've got them here," said the boy from the infirmary. He looked a little sad to see her go.

"It's all right, Elmon, you'll probably be going next time I'm here." Istvan said. He perked the boy up easily - so he'd been Juded too! That... comforted Scotia. She would enjoy seeing what kind of drak he'd pair with...

"Well, I hope that we'll see each other again soon," Scotia said. "Oh!" She saw Sandy, running up to her. She'd run right over the dung pile, and through the animal pens scaring all the goats. "Sandy!"

"Can I take her along?" She asked, getting herself all dirty and mucked, with the vulpa's eager greeting. Istvan looked a bit disgusted.

But he drew in a breath and steeled himself to say, "of course. She'll have to withstand the portal, she might be frightened. You might be. It's nothing to worry about, though. We can move from place to place almost instantly with the portals, and Cephari and I do pretty well with them now."

That didn't leave her with much confidence, but then she saw the wrinkles around his odd eyes - he was just joking with her. What an odd man.

"To Descas!" she said, happily.

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