"So as I understand it, some highly respected Natural Foofah-dunklehumper or whatever they call themselves–"

"I think it's pronounced dinklehamper," interrupted Savrah with a smirk that she knew Rhodon couldn't see in such a dark cave as this. Her fingers laced with his, sitting side by side as she fiddled with her necklace, she was strangely aware that he didn't need to… just like she didn't need to see his eyes, er, eye to know that it was rolling like a wagon wheel.

"Okay, sure, dinklehamper. He told Briello that the… look, it was a prophet of some kind, I don't know how it goes, but Count Fuckface started knocking every waterfowl from the sky on sight pretty much immediately. Something something the doom of the roosting raindrops, a splash of water will split a mountain or some shit. Why are you laughing?"

"I'm not!" Savrah protested, laughing as she squeezed his hand. "I can feel you trying to tickle me with your words, how are you even doing that?"

"What does that…" Rhodon paused his rebuttal for a few seconds. "Is this… what you're feeling for me?" He craned his neck to look at her, wishing he'd been born an owl, if only to satisfy his curiosity at what expression Savrah's face bore in the dark. "You don't need to feel that. It wasn't that bad."

"You are a lying son of a bitch, and you're still trying to tickle me. Wait, that's… you're trying to comfort me!" Savrah bonked her head into Rhodon's temple. "I'm fine, I promise. And I'm allowed to think your shit is worse than my shit. I wouldn't have been able to handle everything you've been through. That's a fact."

"I… yes, I suppose. I wouldn't have survived your childhood, either," Rhodon agreed and admitted as he looked away and rubbed his cheek where loose strands of her hair had made it itch. "Do you usually talk to people like–"

"No! Is it not obvious that this is as much of a surprise to me, too? Sheesh, if this heart to heart were any more literal–"

"Please don't finish that sentence."

"And here I was just starting to admire your dark humor."

"You already do," Rhodon groused.

"Yeah, I guess so." Savrah unlaced her fingers from his, shook out her hand a few times, and sneezed once into her elbow. The sound echoed prominently through the duo's chosen tunnel for a short while, but ultimately it faded and was lost behind the irregular patterns of water plinking into puddles.

The huntress broke the silence again after a few tranquil minutes in the deep darkness. "I sort of like it, though, having someone to talk to."

"That's just you being happy that you can tell if I'm… downplaying things," Rhodon mumbled grumpily.

"It's called 'lying about the pain' and yes, actually, I do like knowing that you can't lie. Why are you still trying?" Savrah found his hand where she'd left it, and their fingers entwined once more as he curled a broad wing around her. New feathers were already beginning to grow into the previously torn patches. She could feel her own shoulder blades developing a sympathetic itch.

"Fine… you asked for it." Rhodon took a deep breath, and Savrah grunted as a vicious migraine began to throb in the back of her skull. Instead of building up into a massive and overwhelming wave… it receded suddenly, leaving a blue silhouette slowly flapping its wings in her mind's eye. The image reached forward to take hold of her hand in a way she didn't realize was possible until that moment, and it wrapped its fingers around a slender, calloused hand, limned in silver light. She felt herself pulled in…

What is this?

This is your rhythm, and mine.

Our rhythm?

No, not yet.

Amazing.

Yes. It is. Your rhythm is beautiful.

I'm jealous of you! I've never seen such colors.

Neither have I. Should I show you more?

If you feel safe.

…I think I do.

Then, please.

Savrah woke up with her hair tangled up in Rhodon's wing as dim sunlight reached into their hidey hole. Sniffling lightly, she wiped dried tears from her cheeks. The huntress then paused, frowned, and sniffed her feather pillow once before scrambling away from him.

"Good… morning?" The albatross cracked his eye open as he was jostled awake. A few seconds later, he scrubbed his own cheeks clean, then took an experimental sniff at his own underarm and recoiled. "Blessed stars, I smell like compost!"

"That's close to the word I was going to use, I guess." Savrah kept retreating from the stench until she got to the mouth of their cave. Pavilions and patrolling guards peppered the beach, and the huntress slowly ducked back into their hidden grotto before they caught sight of her. "Don't worry, I won't kick you away until I know what you smell like after some soap."

"What's soap?" Rhodon approached as well, wings folded carefully behind him while he picked his way through the rocks and tide pools. The look Savrah leveled at him made him crack up. "I'm joking. Let's steal some soap after we kill Count Fuckface, he won't mind. I can even make my own bathwater."

"I know, you told me in our dream, remember? Mani Nell'acqua." Savrah paused and watched Rhodon's hands. "Nothing's happening."

"The necklace." He pointed at the silver key resting on the woman's shirt. "I think that's–"

"Oh, it is! Right!" Savrah clapped her hand down onto the pendant. "Do you think other people… uh, humans, get rhythm headaches like me? Sucks to be them if they do, I've got someone to dump it into now."

"I have no idea." Rhodon shook his head and then his wings. "I've never had someone control my rhythm for me either, so…" A few little pebbles fell from his outstretched feathers and plopped into the puddles around the albatross. "On that note, I'm getting impatient to get out of here. You've memorized everything I can do, right?"

"Oh yeah. 'Mani Nell'acqua' makes you a fountain, 'Idrante' makes you a hose, 'Ghiacciolo' makes you a very cold crossbow…" The huntress snuck a look at Rhodon's face to see if she was annoying him yet, but it seemed she needed to try a little harder. "And 'Respingere' makes us safe. You sure can't use these on your own, even if you're touching the necklace?"

Rather than answer directly, Rhodon hooked his finger beneath the silver wire resting on Savrah's collar, stared into her eyes, and muttered "Mani Nell'acqua" as he held his cupped hand over her head, just loud enough to be heard. After a few dry seconds, he let the necklace go. "Still no."

"Look, Rho, you can't just do that." Savrah huffed and fanned her red face.

Rhodon took a sly step closer, trying to keep a smirk off of his face at his new nickname. "Do what? This?"

"Knock it off! Take a bath first."

"Yes, sir. The nets are deployed and ready to trigger, but the Gemwing Hawks captain said to tell you that the more you try to haggle them down, the more their price goes up." A flustered feline messenger nervously adjusted his loose-fitting uniform over black and white fur and saluted. "Sir."

A large bull in a well fitting military uniform sat on a flat stone overlooking the beach, never taking his eyes off of the rolling tide or the soldiers that waded through it. "Forget them, then. If they're too cowardly to fight over the water for a fair price, they're unfit to take shelter in our brave county. Inform Colonel Grance that…" His eyes narrowed. "Inform Colonel Grance that the targets are active. Sprint."

"Yessir!" The cat sketched a quick nod, took a deep breath, and bolted towards the path up to Briello Keep in a burst of rhythm. The bull stood from his seat as well and held his hand out to one side. A white cloaked adjutant immediately equipped him with a spyglass, which he used to track the flurry of motion in the distance that had caught his attention.

"They're favoring Ghiacciolo, I see… hm. Adjutant, did the human caravan arrive with any rubato crystals?"

"I don't believe so, Major Bellis. At least, not officially. I can confirm if you need."

"Don't bother. They must have had a hidden cache prepared, for a mezzo to be using so much rhythm." The major frowned suddenly, and checked the lenses. "Adjutant, have you ever seen a Ghiacciolo smaller than your forearm?"

"Uh…no, sir. I've never seen it get smaller than Pianissimo. Is something wrong?"

"They're getting smaller, and faster. We have casualties." Major Bellis cleared his throat. "Signal Operation Follehntic Crypt. Tsk… we should have started with that. What idiot thought we were going to be able to just walk in and grab them?"

"Yes sir." The adjutant pulled their sleeves up, grabbed a long pole bearing a brown flag with a red stripe across its center, and began to wave it back and forth. Earth rumbled in the distance, the sound of stone scraping across stone to seal the cave shut. This was met by a frantic burst of rhythm-filled ice that wounded several more soldiers, but reinforcements swarmed the closing aperture of the cave and sealed it completely shut.

A cheer rose from troops, and Major Bellis handed his scope back to his aide as the medical team rushed into the rising tide with stretchers held over their heads. "It seems that this mission is a success. Runner!" A second cat stepped forward and saluted, this one calico in coloration. "Inform Lord Briello that his prisoners have been recaptured. We are ready to deploy The Skunk."

The calico grimaced at the name, but quickly replaced her expression with a hasty salute. "Prisoners captured, ready for The Skunk. Confirmed, sir."

"Dismissed." As the second cat ran for the cliffside path, Major Bellis sighed and sat down on his stone once more to wipe chilled sweat off of his forehead with a terry cloth towel. Despite a near flawless operation, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the shore. "Something isn't adding up. Adjutant."

"Yes sir?" The white cloaked figure looked up from replacing the spyglass in a cushioned equipment case.

"If you were hiding in a cave, with… let's say an unlimited supply of rubato crystals. How would you deal with your captivity? Surely you wouldn't simply give up."

"No sir. I would probably just leave through the other exit."

The bull Natural stopped patting his face with his hand towel and swiftly turned to face his aide. "Explain. Now."

"You've never been lava tube surfing? It's pretty great, as long as you're okay with losing a board or two while you learn the obstacles." The major's eyes dilated as his adjutant stood up and pulled their hood back, letting their long hair cover their uniform with all the colors of the ocean. "I'll show you later. For now, let's just sit here and enjoy the sunrise together, and talk about some things. Have you ever tried poutine?"

"Why is your water so friggin' cold though? Shoot me a couple times with Ghiacciolo, would you? It'll warm me up." Savrah grumbled and clung to Rhodon's back as he splashed through the widening pyroduct, striding through knee deep water as if it were no more a hindrance than tall grass.

"Every ocean is this cold." Rhodon's stomach issued a complaint that echoed lightly in the ancient subway, though it didn't slow his march at all. "Ugh. First order of business though, we raid the kitchen. I can't fight on an empty stomach, and the last thing I ate were yesterday's muddy crackers. You saw how small those spells were that I was throwing. Barely icicles."

"What? I thought you were doing that to make them more like my crossbow bolts?" Savrah hummed in surprise as Rhodon shook his head no. "Could you make a couple that were shaped like I could use, though? Maybe a little skinnier than what you were throwing, not so much taper, two little fletches?"

"Maybe, if we find your crossbow before they do. Or skunked out whatever made it special. Have you heard of The Skunk?"

The huntress thought for a moment. "No? I know what skunks are. Is this Skunk some famous Natural or something?"

"Infamous, but yeah. He's uh, a torturer-slash-executioner-slash-maniac with a thing for turning mezzos into humans. Count Fuckface loves him."

"What? You can do that?"

"No. That doesn't stop him from trying, though." Savrah winced as Rhodon gave a nervous laugh. "He walks around with his tail raised everywhere he goes, so… not so hard to spot, but if we see him, I want to keep my wings more than I want revenge. No contest."

"Emergency exit if we see a black and white tail in the air, got it. Hey, you hear that?" The huntress leaned forward and almost fell off of Rhodon's back before he caught his balance. "We're almost out. Got enough rhythm to fly up the cliff, or do we need to do another soul-snuggle session?"

"Soul… what? That's not what we were doing at all." Rhodon looked over his shoulder just in time to get a cheek-to-cheek nuzzle. He growled, "Look, I have no problems dropping you off right here if you want to be like that."

"Aww, you're so cute when you're bashful." That quip earned Savrah a quick swat, which she laughed at. "Seriously though, I feel like I should feed you all the rhythm I can. It's not like I can use it anyway, right? So let me be a little rhythm silo for you… or did you not want to fulfill any prophecies today?"

"Look, it doesn't need to be me, you know. Obviously the best way to make sure a prophecy doesn't come true is to make an enemy out of everyone that could fulfill it and then make them water your parsnips for years." The albatross shrugged, despite the weight on his shoulders. "I'm just shooting my shot."

"A man after my own heart," Savrah chortled as Rhodon clambered out of the water and onto a stony beach, where she slipped off of his back and took his hand in hers. "Let's get you recharged and then see what's for breakfast."

"Now you're making sense," the albatross sighed and squeezed his new partner's hand while his stomach rumbled again. "Just for a minute, though, or you're going to be a rhythm silo for a skeleton."

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"It's a massacre! A warzone! The end times, Gabriel, please! We go back a long way, don't we? You'll have trout fillets every day, I promise, just… my poor butterscotch souffles! They'll be ruined, or worse… eaten by barbarians!"

The viscount frowned at the head chef as they followed him with their white hat clutched in both gloved paws. He was already stomping towards the kitchen with the intent to consume everything in sight, if for no other reason than to teach this sobbing bootlicker that there was a time and place for theatrics. "We are in the middle of a military drill right now, Charle. No one has time to care about your stupid souffles, and you've never gotten them right anyway. They always look like… Savrah?"

Gabriel stopped cold in the doorway as the flour-dusted huntress waved to him from where she sat on a messy table, a bacon and egg sandwich in her hand and souffle crumbs on her lap. "Compliments to the chef! I'll bet dinner was amazing last night, huh?"

"Wha…how…what?" It took the bear a few more blinks to bring his wits back online. He shoved Charle out of the door and snarled as he approached the huntress, claws flexing. "I don't know what game you're playing, but it's about to end."

"That's what I'm hoping too, actually." The woman took another bite of sandwich and nonchalantly twirled her necklace around her finger while the Bruin of Ruin closed in. "Hey, Rho, how about… Idrante!"

Gabriel turned as someone grunted, just in time to catch a painful jet of water aimed at his face. He swept his arm up to stave off the scouring spray and opened his mouth to send the flagstones forward in a counterattack when he felt the threat of death close in behind him. The Natural immediately threw himself forward into a somersault, clawed a cutting board off of a countertop, and raised it as a shield in time to catch a carving knife that Savrah had thrown at his back. The weapon wobbled with the impact, and the huntress whistled.

"Quick learner! You'd've been dead from that yesterday." The sandwich was gone from her hands when the viscount looked again, replaced with a long dirk that he could have sworn had pricked the flesh on the back of his neck. He didn't have long to think about it though. "Idrante!"

Gabriel fended off the second water blast and the second thrown kitchen knife, and hurled the board at the winged mezzo before diving for cover on the other side of a prep counter. The thieving bitch ambled across the floor to join her companion, who had not stopped eating Gabriel's favorite venison sausages throughout this entire encounter. "What do you want, Savrah?" he bellowed. "Money? Fame? If you're here for my head, I swear to the earth below you'll pay dearly for it!"

"Really, Gabriel? Your head is fine where it's at." Savrah blew out her breath. "Your father, on the other hand… well, you know him better than I do. Tell you what, how about you stay out of this one today. Save your strength, pick up the pieces after we have a chat with your pops… and hey, maybe you turn the Briello legacy around and stop picking fights for no reason with your neighbors and visitors, who knows? Might help you avoid days like today when it's your turn to be Count Briello."

Rhodon cleared his throat, though his voice was still somewhat muffled by a cheekful of sausage. "Hey, you know where the Skunk is?"

The kitchen quieted for a span of several breaths…audible breaths, as the bear Natural fought to calm himself. "Okay," he began. "You stop throwing dreck at me, I stay behind the counter, and we talk. Either of you have problems with that?"

"Nope, although… did Gabriel do anything to piss you off, Rho?" Savrah glanced at Rhodon, who shrugged and picked up an apple.

"No, not really. He only bullies people that he thinks make him look good. He does heal his sparring partners though. Even the mezzos."

Gabriel growled as he slowly lifted himself up to stand and face the duo across the kitchen from him, which now did look somewhat like a warzone as he surveyed it. He wanted to ask why Savrah had really come, and how the mezzo had escaped in a flash from his cage… how they'd fought their way past no fewer than fifty seasoned warriors to get here, just to eat breakfast in his kitchen. Every time he tried to give voice to these questions, though, they stayed glued to his tongue. Finally, he spat and spoke.

"I… can't find what I want to know by asking you… I can't imagine a foreigner and a slave having anything useful to say about that rotted prophet that… forget it. The people that do know have told me all they wish to." The Natural sighed as his aggression seeped away, and his head drooped to stare lethargically at the scattered utensils on the countertop. "The Skunk left half an hour ago to find you. If you value your lives, you'll be gone by the time he returns."

"Sounds reasonable. Hey, Gabriel." Savrah waited until the viscount lifted his weary eyes to look at her. "Here's a question for you. How scared do you think your father is of the people around him?"

"What?" Gabriel screwed up his expression. "What kind of question is that?"

"An easy one, I think. If someone told you something half cracked like 'the roosting raindrops would be your dooooom,' I kinda get the feeling you'd find better things to spend your time on than build a prison about it."

The viscount's eyes narrowed. "...oh."

The huntress stretched her arms over her head and slid her dirk back into a sleeve. "Anyway, just my opinion. Rho, how're you feeling?"

"Like a new man. I'd say sorry about the mess, but it's getting harder to lie these days." Rhodon picked up an apple and bit into it on his way to the door, with Savrah following close behind. Gabriel watched them go in silence, and when Charle finally crept back into the kitchen to assess the damage, he found the viscount's hulking frame still behind the counter with his head pressed into his paws.

The chef asked quietly, "Are you alright, Gabriel?"

The bear looked up with warring emotions on his face, shook his head, and dropped it dejectedly once more. "I don't know."

The huntress and the albatross moved with purpose through Briello Keep's wide halls, tracking mud on long rugs and seamless stone floors alike as they wandered. Rhodon stayed at the front, ready to buffet any guardsman that they ran into with his wings while Savrah kept her ears focused on finding surprises. The only surprise they found was that the entire compound seemed to be emptied of guardians.

Rhodon was the one to first break the silence of their stalking. "He can't be that stupid, right? This feels like a trap."

"I've been wondering if they could…I don't know, make an earthquake or something and bury us in the castle? But I don't think we'd get overestimated that much…" Savrah frowned at the ceiling.

"I agree, that's a lot of castle to dig out, even if it would be a sure win. We can't possibly be worth it."

"Wait… no, you're right. Look at that butler looking guy, this is the third time we've seen him." Savrah pointed to a well dressed canine, who hurriedly scuttled out of sight as they walked down yet another hallway full of identical doors. "The help is staying inside. So where the hell are the guards? We could just… loot the place and leave, especially since we don't know when the Skunk is getting back… Rho?"

The huntress paused as Rhodon stopped, and then his wings flapped once as he threw himself backwards and knocked her to the floor. An instant later, the smooth hallway in front of the duo was shredded into wood chips and gravel by an explosive cataclysm. Savrah gasped a breath and grunted "Respingere!" just before an enormous granite drill embedded itself into the wall and twisted itself into high speed shrapnel. The jagged chunks thumped into Rhodon's bulwark, now solid ice rather than thick fog, but even for this improvement the translucent barrier still ended up riddled with cracks.

"To be honest…" The destroyed hallway built itself into armor around Count Briello as he casually stepped into view from a shattered doorway, hands clasped behind his back. "I would have been extremely disappointed if that had killed either one of you after making it all the way here. No offense, Colonel Grance."

"None taken, my lord." The sturdy rhinoceros Natural joined Forsath in the hallway, crushing pebbles to powder beneath his bulky hooves. The drifting dust in the hall dispersed in his wake enough to reveal two lines of well organized and well armored soldiers on the other side of the exploded wall, each holding rhythm in their hands, ready to let fly. "May I finally have your permission to kill this spy?"

"One moment." Count Briello nodded to the rhino, and turned to address the vagabond pair as they regained their feet. "I was going to be generous and give you a delicious last meal before your execution, spy, as a way of saying thank you for teaching my son the weakness of poorly honed rhythm…and for sparing his life. Since you weren't interested, allow me to offer you your own lesson in exchange."

With a lazy flourish, the Count produced Savrah's abandoned crossbow from behind his broad back. Savrah hissed "Respingere" once more, and the cracks in the ice bubble filled in with fresh rhythm in time for both Rhodon and Savrah to watch a crossbow bolt glance off the dome as if it were a thrown stick. Forsath threw the crossbow itself next, with similar results.

"You see, human," the Count returned his hands behind his back, the quiet crunch of his gravel sleeves audible beneath his lingering animosity. "The weakest crippled mezzo is more than enough to render you powerless. Go ahead, pick up your little twig shooter. I insist."

"And you're going to just let me?" Savrah reached for Rhodon's hand and felt her rhythm fill what he'd just spent. "How about some ammunition, if you want to make this a fight?"

"A fight? Hah!" Forsath barked a laugh. "This is nothing more than a somewhat elaborate execution, meant to further instruct my son. Where is he, by the way? I was sure that either he or his head would be accompanying you."

"Having breakfast, I guess." Savrah reached out of the bubble as a small portion turned to mist for her, and grabbed her crossbow from where it lay. She worked the lever while she eyed the opposition from the other side of the ice wall. "How about you don't worry about him? This is an 'us' thing."

"You do make a good point. Colonel Grance?" Forsath motioned to the rhino with an open palm. "I heard that our little pigeon here demonstrated an uncommonly sturdy shield last night. I would like to see you show him what happens when you throw a pigeon egg against a stone."

"It will be my pleasure, my lord. Respingere." A thick cloud of dust curled and swelled around Grance's legs, building into an imposing monolith around him. Forsath crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction, while Savrah put her free hand on Rhodon's shaking shoulder.

"This is it, Rho," she whispered in his ear. His wings twitched in surprise as she continued, "We can do this. Charge."

Rhodon felt her feelings flow into him along with her command, her overwhelming determination filling his legs and wings with strength. The Colonel gave them a scoff of surprise, finished his own shield, and thundered forward to meet them, but he only had room to gain three steps worth of momentum when their ice met his stone.

There was a terrible shriek as the bastions brutally crashed together, and fragments of both shattered shields exploded against each other in another cloud of dust and studded the hall with jagged spars of the elements.

"Res…pingere Mosso!" A deep voice called out, sounding pained.

"Ghiacciolo!" came a feminine response.

"Guardian Elites!" Count Briello's voice muffled both. "Unleash!"

A dust shield sprang up around the rhino mere milliseconds before the firing line unloaded their rhythm into the fray. Chaos reigned in a violent applause, a lord and master greater than any count or king, and only ended when a brief lull in the relentless salvo let the angry call to "cease fire damn it" slip through far enough for the guards to hear it. The deluge ceased, and order slowly reasserted itself.

Count Briello sighed as he picked his way through his ruined hall, dripping with melted stone and the scorched remnants of furniture and nature elements. Colonel Grance lay slumped against a wall, barely breathing but far more animated than his opponent. All that could be seen of Rhodon that hadn't been crushed into the corner by Grance's mass were his broken wings, still extended in a vain effort to protect his partner. Forsath stepped on and through an especially charred corner of a wing, and ground its ashen remnants into the floor with a twist of his boot.

The gravel armor sloughed away as Count Briello addressed his men, with a grim smile and a speech that he'd been waiting to give for a long time. "It is clear, noble warriors, that this was a calculated attack on my life from the desperate dregs that populate the so-called 'human territory.' It seems that we have no choice but to remove these barbarians and install the Natural order for good. Even insignificant pests must be controlled! Lest we find ourselves assaulted again and again until nothing is left of our fair lands but this… this malicious ruination." He swept a paw at the nearly collapsed corridor and narrowed his eyes in pleasure at the murmurs of agreement that reached his ears.

"Therefore! To defend against further tragedy and to bring peace to our land and those beyond, I am declaring myself–"

fffwap

"Khrck-!" The count suddenly stiffened and jerked where he stood, eyes boggled and clutching at his own neck. Before his audience could react with more than gasps, Savrah leapt over Grance and onto his shoulders, where she wrenched his head back and stabbed her favorite dirk deep into his left eye socket. The count offered the world one final choked cough and fell forward as he died, a thin splinter of ice lodged deep in the base of his skull.

Savrah rode the body to the ground, landed in front of the shocked guards, and immediately threw herself outside of the room before any of them found their wits and directed the others to swarm her. Despite her head start, she only managed to get a short way down the hallway before the enraged guardsmen boiled out of the room like a cloud of wasps. The huntress dodged into random doorways at every opportunity to avoid the bolts of lightning and fiery darts that clipped the soles of her boots, but luck and unpredictability only bought her a few handfuls of seconds she turned a blind corner and slammed into an unyielding gambeson. The wearer grabbed her by her shirt before she even had the chance to stumble.

Black, beady eyes, coarse tuxedo-colored fur, and a pervasive manky odor were all Savrah needed for the blood to drain from her face as The Skunk pulled her back upright and set her on her feet. His reedy voice promised nothing but a grim future as he looked down at her, tail flat against his own leg. "Where's the other one? He's supposed to be with you."

The huntress took a deep breath and attempted to stab him. "Fuck off, Skunk! I'll carve you up myself!" Unfortunately, she failed to take her adversary by surprise, and he caught her wrist in one paw as the first of the pursuing guards rounded the corner themselves and stopped short.

Instead of pulling her head off, though, he looked over his shoulder. "Can you handle this one? She's wriggly and I might accidentally hurt her."

"Savrah!" A cheerful voice accompanied its bearer as they walked around the Skunk, blue hair spilling haphazardly over their shoulders as always, and with one arm still firmly clamped onto Major Bellis' shoulder. Savrah noticed that the major, much like the Skunk now that she saw his stance, seemed to be in considerable distress. Both of the Naturals heaved a sigh of relief when Marovo wrapped Savrah up in a big hug. "You were both magnificent! I knew you had it in you."

"Yeah, okay, quick question." Savrah pried Marovo off of herself to look them in the eye. "What the actual fuck is going on?"

"What a great question! I'm glad you asked, but first! We should go find Rhodon. I need to teach him a new spell soon, or his poor wings will never heal right. Major? I believe it's your turn now."

Major Bellis nodded rapidly and stepped forward to bellow, "Ten HUT!" The guards filling the hallway behind Savrah reflexively snapped to attention, and then shot each other confused glances. The major didn't wait for them to question his orders. "Count off by twos! Form lines, left and right! Doubletime! Go, go, go!" The soldiers defaulted to following their chain of command, and in short order Savrah and Marovo were jogging back the way she'd come, followed by the Skunk, who was clearly less than thrilled that Bellis had been let go while he had not.

"So, to answer your question, I'd like to know if you and Rhodon are interested in becoming heroes. We'll have plenty of time later to talk about all the hows and whys, don't worry, but in the meantime, you're now part of a bonded pair, and within that bond is power that even I'm a little envious of. And I'm a Sage!"

"You're a what?" Savrah nearly stumbled on the lightly pockmarked floor. Marovo grinned widely and jerked their thumb at the trailing Skunk.

"Ask him! He can tell." The huntress looked back to see this vaunted boogeyman with his tail still between his legs, nodding 'Yes!' even faster than Major Bellis. "Told ya! Anyway, you and half a dozen other pairs of deserving heroes-in-training will be meeting up soon, but you'll have plenty of time to take a bath and rest a bit before you go flying off to Mount Clearoi. Terribly sorry to dump all of this on you at once, but you know how it goes."

"I know that it sounds like you're done with your explanation." Savrah sucked in a deep breath and slowed to a walk as she saw the devastated hall, still strewn with mostly-dead and completely-dead bodies. "What's the Skunk still here for?"

"This guy." The Skunk kept jogging until he got to the pile of rhinoceros, which he grabbed with both hands and hoisted onto his shoulders like a bale of hay. "I can leave now, right?"

"Sure," Marovo nodded once. The pungent Natural didn't need to be asked twice.

Freed from the weight of Grance, the stricken form of Rhodon lifted his head slightly, skin still lined in places with flakes of shielding ice. "And here… I was just getting cozy. Rude."

"You don't know the half of it," Savrah knelt by the albatross and took his hand. "You ready to learn a new spell?"

Rhodon laughed once, winced at the twinge it caused, and then chuckled a few more times despite it. "Why not? Teach me the one that makes me smell like daisies."

Marovo knelt by the duo and put a hand atop both of theirs. "We'll do that one later. Brace yourselves, though, this might be a little startling. La Bella Vita."

All at once, Savrah and Rhodon were silver and blue silhouettes again, swirling around each other's joy and relief. Rhythm surrounded them, breathing new life into their forms as they shared themselves with each other once more.

We did it!

I believed in you.

I believed in you too.

This is what healing feels like?

It must be.

It feels good.

Yes.

Can we stay here for a while?

I hope so. I want to.

I want to, too.

I want to, three.

…really?

Heheheheh…

–— fin —--

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