World Walk

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Skye looked at Laurelle to hear her answer before she spoke. She already seemed to defer to the others; perhaps because she didn't want to risk offending them. The thief nodded. "I'm ready to go." Laurelle said.
"I guess I'd better put my armor back on, huh?" Skye said.
"It'd probably be best, for now. We don't know quite what we'll run into." Laurelle answered.

When they warped back, Skye made a point of facing away from Keyer's corpse. She still didn't feel like facing that reality, yet. "...The ward on the door should be gone now. Let's just get out of here." She said.
The ward was indeed broken. The door pushed open easily. There were no guards outside; the warlord had been light on men in the first place, and he had likely decided that it wasn't worth the manpower with the ward. The road leading down out of the mountains from this gate was rocky, steep, and long. It took the group to traverse it, but soon they were on level ground again. By the time they had reached the plains again, the sun was setting.

Laurelle looked around at the scarce traveled road, beaten into the dirt but being overtaken by vegetation nonetheless. "We should probably make camp. I'd suggest moving to another plane, but we want to make good time, and we can't keep track of the sunlight if we're not here. We'll want to set off again early." She struck off in a random direction off the path, seeking somewhere at least relatively sheltered from the road by the curve of the terrain and the tall grass.
 
"I agree," Demi said, back in her robe. She decided against mentioning the times she'd sat down by one of her dimension's springs and ended up napping all day. Her pack had been emptied of some of the things she didn't need back in Vada, although she'd brought the dirk from the fortress with her, sheathed at her waist as a side-arm, but she hoped she wouldn't have to use it. "How about right here?" she asked, gesturing toward a dip in the terrain by a rocky outcropping. It was probably the best they'd get.

Demi wondered how far they had to go until they reached Magus's tower... probably still a great deal.
 
"That looks good." Laurelle said. "As good as we're going to find, anyway." She jogged over to the spot. "I should have a tent in the Spire, one moment." She blinked and vanished, gone to Prismsphere. Shortly thereäfter, she reäppeared, a bundle of heavy cloth and metal rods to hold it together. In the past, lighter supplies were used, but nowadays the convenience of dimensional storage made weight a nonfactor in traveling gear. Aiding her work with a cantrip here and there, Laurelle pitched the tent, and soon she realized that something was off. It was only meant for two people, and she didn't have another. "Ah..." She said, looking at the small structure. "...Someone has to keep watch anyway."

"Uh, I'll take the first shift." Skye said. "I'm probably the least tired of us." She sat down across from the tent and began clearing grass to make a campfire. There weren't any substantial sticks to light it, but she had firewood in Zephyrhome. She made a brief trip there and came back with enough to keep it going through the night if it was tended to. Arranging it and making sure it wouldn't cause a brushfire, she set it alight with a small fire spell, carefully nurturing the flame until it was a blaze.
 
"Thanks, Skye!" Demi was visibly relieved at Skye's volunteering. After giving her thanks, she decided to sit by the fire for a moment.

Where would Taras go? Her mind lost itself in speculation over the apprentice knight from home. To avoid meeting him again was her original purpose for journeying into the Fragments to meet Magus... but would it be any use? If he knew of Brandt's betrayal, he would surely take justice into his own hands, for better or worse. Or perhaps he would take it upon himself to save Skye? She had seemed to at least know who he was, so he likely know her as well. As she tried to think of the possibilities, the warmth of the crackling flame made Demi feel more tired and restful than any drink or pillow could, and she was soon on her back with her head propped on her pack, lazily staring at the sky peppered by sparks of the fire.
 
A couple hours passed unincidentally. After Demi and Laurelle went to sleep, Skye occupied herself by humming Estillian war hymns, occasionally singing under her breath. "But this land is our's, and we'll see it wiped clean / of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams." That particular song had been born decades ago in a past civil war. Noöne now could remember which side it was talking about. Perhaps there was never a difference. After a while, seeking to stave off sleep, she picked up a stick and began to draw in the dirt, making patterns of armies and weapons and battles. They looked silly--the people were stick figures and the weapons laughably oversized. Skye was never an artist. But it still reminded her of what real battle was like, how terrible it was. But it wasn't something she could escape. No matter how much Laurelle wanted to pretend that never taking a life was an option, or how much Skye herself wanted to live a peaceful life. She lived in a troubled time, with wars breaking out all over the continent. Moreover, she was an Estillian. War was in her blood. She knew that she'd always find something to fight for, even when there was nothing. That was her people's greatest weakness, or perhaps their greatest strength.

Skye was instantly put on alert when she heard a rustling in the grass that seemed to come from all directions at once. She slowly drew her sword, standing up. It had been far too loud to be a small animal, and any of the larger animals that roamed the plains would never stray this close to a fire. Ever so carefully, she sent a thought out, scanning the area. What she found was over a dozen animalistic minds that felt somehow human. They were more intelligent than most animals, at least. But certainly not human. They were spread out all around the camp in a circle, and they obviously had some goal. Were they attracted to the fire? While she couldn't tell if they were hostile, there was no taking chances. She turned to the tent where her companions slept. She pulled open the flap, looking nervously behind her. The tent had barely enough room for the two of them, and it looked like Laurelle had rolled over in her sleep and nestled up to Demi. Skye would have giggled at any other time, but right now she needed them to wake up. She knelt and shook Laurelle, who awoke almost instantly and recognized the look on the knight's face. She turned to wake up Demi.
 
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Demi honestly didn't mind the cramped conditions of the tent: if anything, she was grateful for the extra warmth in the night. To boot, she'd had few friends whom she valued as much as her possessions and was even more grateful to be on this journey with one. "Eh?" She groggily protested as she was awoken. "What's going o—" Cutting herself off after seeing the serious expressions, she nodded, slipping her staff out of her pack with one hand and getting up, shaking the other arm which had grown numb from sleeping on top of it. "What's the situation?" she asked again in a more urgent whisper, rubbing her face in an effort to wake herself up quicker. Should've had tea instead of wine earlier, she thought before proceeding to recite a short traditional poem in her head at lightning speed over and over again, an exercise to prepare herself for reciting incantations... which she assumed she was going to have to do very soon.
 
"There's something surrounding us." Skye said in the same urgent tone. "Not human, but..." Her voice trailed off a little, which probably said all that needed to be said. Laurelle nodded, slipping her cloak on. She stepped out toward the fire, looking around. With a brief divination like Skye had used, she confirmed the knight's findings for herself. Then, very slowly, she illuminated the area around the camp, white light spreading out towards the tall grass. However, almost as soon as she cast the spell, a horde of creatures erupted out of the grass toward her.
They were humanoid, very short, about two feet tall. They resembled albino monkeys, with white fur and bloodshot pink eyes, but they lacked tails and their faces were more human. Their eyes seemed to bug out of their heads, darting about. Their mouths were unnaturally long and seemed to curve up toward their blunt nose, which give them a rather unnerving visage. There was over a dozen of them, dashing on all fours toward Laurelle. She realized her mistake as soon as she saw them. "Cover your eyes!" She yelled. She had no time to ward her companions. After but a second, she spoke a word, and the area she had illuminated exploded like a super nova. She let the light weave fail catastrophically, expending all of its energy at once for a dazzling display. The creatures seemed suitably dazzled. They ran around wildly, clutching their faces. Some recovered quicker than others, but the they seemed to shrug off the blindness quicker than should have been possible. Wary now, they formed a circle around Laurelle. She knelt and carved a pattern in the dirt around her, casting a spell. A rainbow barrier of light sprung up around her, not too bright to look at but surely painful should one step through it. As she spoke the incantation, the creatures seemed to become excited, jumping and dancing around.

Skye had buried her face in the tent as soon as Laurelle had shouted, not knowing exactly what she was going to do but figuring it would be spectacular. Light spells usually were. As her vision cleared, she turned to look at the light mage encased in her barrier. She didn't know what these things were, but a blade should put a stop to them. Her sword already in hand, she charged the outside of their circle, making a swift overhead slash at the closest one. Her blade dug into its shoulder, and it screamed and turned to face her as she pulled her weapon back. Its left side was a bleeding mess, but that didn't seem to slow it at all. It leapt toward her, jumping through the air, only to skewer itself as she stabbed it in the chest mid-flight. It slid off the blade, its eyes going dark, and slumped to the ground. She set her feet, expecting more, but the others didn't come at her. They seemed intensely focused on Laurelle's ward.
 
Demi only got a good look at the things approaching them for a moment before screwing up her eyes and burying them in her arm. It was still barely enough protection from Laurelle's blinding spell as artifacts danced in her vision momentarily. Instinctively, she flung a lightning spell at a few of the uncanny monkey-things that were stalking around Laurelle's ward.

She hadn't thought about the terrain.
Indeed, the sparks that loosed themselves from the quickly-conjured bolt landed on the dry grass and found traction there, showing no signs of going out as tiny puffs of smoke began throughout the brush. Alarmed, Demi followed her spell with a more deliberate one of freezing water, but to her horror there were already tiny flames appearing in the dried-out bushes.
They just had to be on the dry side of the mountains, didn't they.
 
"They're haunters!" Laurelle yelled, as if that explained everything. That sounded familiar to Skye, but she wasn't sure in the heat of the moment. The one Demi had struck with with her bolt was laying on the ground smoking, but the three closest to it had abandoned their watch over Laurelle's shield, turning and scratching around in the dirt about their fallen fellow. After a couple seconds, they got up and rushed Demi. Skye made a low sweep as one came by her, smoothly removing its head. She shuddered to think about the clean up after this fight. She turned in time to stop the second haunter from reaching her friend, smashing its back with the flat of her blade and then stabbing it before it got up, but the last was already only a few feet from Demi.

The brush fire Demi had accidentally started spread quickly, burning through the dry grass and beginning to engulf the area around Laurelle. She strengthened her barrier and spoke a quick spell that incinerated the grass immediately around her. It was near instant, with no chance of contributing to the blaze, and it would form a fire wall around her, preventing the growing flame from reaching her. The haunters were ignoring the fire completely despite it already licking at their feet and burning them. They seemed oblivious to the pain.
 
Demi panicked, indecision paralyzing her as she was rushed by the haunters. Although only one of them made its way to her, it was already perched on her staff arm, digging grotesque fingernails in as its terrible face swayed back and forth.
Her off-arm moved swiftly to her belt, where she had quickly stowed the dirk before getting up for battle. Forcing it out of its sheath as she gritted her teeth, she tried not to think as she swiftly stabbed the haunter in its grotesque face.

The blade exited the creature's face quickly, but not cleanly. Thanks to her inexperience, Demi's stab had been a messy one that caused a veritable explosion of blood... even while using a weapon that was designed for clean kills. A sobering realisation came as Demi felt herself soaked with the horrible stuff—
When during that moment had she dropped her staff? Yet there it was clattering on the ground. A drip-drop of blood followed, from her own arm. Whimpering, her expression became frantic as she sheathed the dirk and picked up the staff with shaking hands. There was blood everywhere, all over her. Her arm burned as adrenaline raced through her, freezing the moment in time like a gruesome, unwanted snapshot. She took a deep breath in an attempt to prevent herself from hyperventilating and looked around distractedly in search of the next onslaught of haunters— whatever they were.

Demi's friends had probably already learned one more fact about her. Namely, why she preferred to electrocute her opponents.
 
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Skye looked back at Demi to confirm she was alright; or at least not in life threatening danger. Her stomach crawled at the sight. There was blood all over her. The knight looked away, still not used to the gore that came with combat. The smoke was now beginning to obscure her vision back into the fray, although she could tell that the blaze had claimed at least one enemy life. It was beginning to spread, and soon they would have an all out wildfire on their hands. Skye wondered why Laurelle hadn't blinked to Prismsphere.
And then that thought gave her an idea.
"Laurelle! Warp!" She shouted. The light mage decided not to question her, flickering and vanishing, her barrier dropping as she did so. The haunters rushed to where it had been, sniffing the ground and ignoring the sickening smell of burnt flesh beginning to permeäte the air. Skye took a deep breath and held out her gauntlet. She slowly spoke a very firm, long incantation that took her almost ten seconds. She spoke the last word with a dreadful finality.

The sound felt like it should have rent the air. If there was a mage within a mile or even more, Skye was sure that they'd hear it clearly. The haunters staggered, clutching their heads and reeling about. That made her suspicious. But that didn't really matter.
A great wind built up behind the knight, blocked by an invisible wall. Its fury rose, the physical sound of the gale drowning out even the crackle of the flame. Skye held it until she was sure it had grown as much as it could. Then she let it go.

The tornado-level winds ripped across the area the haunters and the fire were cogregating in. The flames died instantly, snuffed out by the furious storm. The grass itself was torn from the ground, dashed about the air and blown apart. The haunters fared no better. Their light, wiry forms were bodily plucked off the ground and carried away by the wind. They flew for a long distance before coming to an abrupt end as gravity took its toll on the trip. None would survive the impact.

Skye staggered back, dropping to one knee and sheathing her sword before she dropped it. She forced herself to breath in slow, deep breaths. She was paying the price for that spell and her lack of sleep since before she had been captured. Maybe first watch hadn't been such a good idea. She fell on her back, not unconscious but exhausted. After a moment, Laurelle reäppeared, apparently deciding that whatever Skye was doing would be over now. She immediately noticed the barren terrain around her and rushed to the knight's side. Skye waved her off and gestured to Demi. The thief understood as soon as she looked at her friend. She ran to the tent and grabbed first aid supplies she had stashed there, knowing that they might be needed quickly if they were attacked during the night. She cut off some bandages and went to examine Demi's wounds.
 
Demi had been too busy being awed and shocked by Skye's spell (which was awe-inspiring, to her credit) to notice her uncontrollable sobbing at first. And then there she was on the ground uncontrollably sobbing, her vision mottled by tears as she tried not to look at or even think about the exposed spot on her left arm where skin had been torn away with terrifying efficiency, some of it still hanging loosely. And the blood, splashed all across her chest, face, and right side. Although it was only tears that were dripping from her face, her mind assured her that it was blood making the journey off of her onto the ground, in all places that even felt mildly affected.

If only she had been able to compose herself, the wound wouldn't have been too difficult to tend to herself. But instead, she was as helpless as a kitten. Demi's crying bordered on hysterical by the time Laurelle had come to aid her. Demi looked up at her, starting to mouth an explanation but only hyperventilating instead.
 
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Laurelle had no experience dealing with panicking patients. Most of the people she treated were calm. But then, most of the people Laurelle treated was herself. She rarely tended to others, usually deciding that it was their problem. Not so when it came to her friends. She knelt by Demi, setting a hand on her shoulder, hoping to get a positive reäction. She wasn't sure if it was the pain or something else that was upsetting her. Laurelle didn't feel pain like other people did, so she didn't have a very good idea of how it affected them. Aside from her spells, of course. Magical pain affected people very keenly. But actual physical pain was different. "Be still," She said. She gingerly moved Demi's arm to lie on the ground where she could see it. Her first priority was to find out if there was a ruptured blood vessel. That was the most immediate danger. A quick survey told her almost certainly; the wound was so wide it was bound to have hit somewhere. Laurelle cut off part of the bandage and wound it tightly around her friend's upper arm. It wouldn't hold the bleeding at bay very well, but it would cut off circulation enough for her to stabilize things. "This will hurt." She warned. Then she spoke a spell and ran her finger along the wound, around where important blood vessels should be. The spell itself wasn't painful; it was a mending spell to repair ruptured veins and stop her from bleeding out. However, it required physical contact, and the wound was very, very sore. The places she touched quickly stitched themselves, knitting back together Not quite as good as new, but good enough to make sure the danger was past. She undid the wrap cutting off circulation, letting feeling return to the arm. Then she cut off more bandages and carefully wrapped the rest of the wound. She would have preferred to clean it first, but it could have been the blood distressing Demi, so it was probably more important to do that in a moment.
 
Demi did her best to follow Laurelle's instructions, predictably crying whenever her wound was touched. As soon as it was patched up, she wasted no time in removing and tossing aside her robe, which had taken the brunt of the blood-splash. Mercifully, her clothing underneath was relatively clean. Next, she detached the sheathed dirk from her belt and removed her gloves, tossing them onto the robe to make a pile of blood-soaked possessions. Her beloved scarf remained loosely draped around her: she wouldn't dare remove that from her self in the material plane for whatever reason, even if it had blood on it. She felt the tears on her face now, cold as they ran down her hot face and made trails through the blood, and—
There was still blood on her face. She could see the red drops on her cheek in the corner of her vision, in fact. Demi wished in vain for a water spell: maybe she could wash it away. But she couldn't find the strength to finish the incantation for a spell. "All over— my face..." she sobbed as she began holding on to Laurelle's hand, honestly unsure of how to deal with the horrible mess. She could barely muster even the memory of an incantation, and certainly wasn't about to use her hands or clothing to wipe it off.
So she just continued crying.
 
"Ah..." Laurelle wasn't entirely sure what to do now. Demi had perhaps calmed down a little, and she wasn't in danger anymore, but her friend was still quite distressed. Knowing now it must be the blood, she tore off a strip of the bandage and began wiping her face, cleaning the blood off. Laurelle was more than a little embaressed, but she needed to calm Demi down. She gave her a moment after she finished, the said. "...We need to clean the wound, and there isn't any water around here, so... Let's go to Vada."

Skye stood awkwardly off to the left, tending the campfire, which had the least blood around compared to the surrounding area. She was itching to ask Laurelle about haunters and why they seemed so drawn to magic, but it was probably best to let her calm Demi down first.
 
Demi's eyes widened slightly. Vada. Of course... "That's a great idea," she murmured sheepishly, finally catching her breath. How odd it was that her mind had blocked off the most obvious of solutions to her problems when in a panic. The realisation of her dimension, practically her backyard, being a perfect place for bathing made her want to slap a palm square into her face, if only it wasn't covered in— No... She instead tried to think of how silly it was that Laurelle had resorted to wiping her face with a bandage to help her... it was embarrassing, too, but at least it was her friend and not a total stranger taking care of her when she had inexplicably been unable to take care of herself. "... Sorry I'm such a pushover," she managed to mumble out an apology.
"We'll be right back, Skye!" Demi called to Skye, her voice still shaky and raised to the telltale high pitch of fear. "We shouldn't be long, but— you can follow if you want," she added, afraid she was being inconsiderate.

Then she concentrated on her focus, and in doing so left her pack in a different dimension from the one she was in for the first time in a very long time. Her mind was on more important things.
Demi and Laurelle appeared just outside the entrance to the safe-house Demi had had them in earlier, strangely enough. She guessed it was a side-effect of the puny warding ritual she had executed last time she was here, but there was no time for that. Indeed wasting no time, she was already pulling out the bands holding her hair up, and along with the usual perking-up that was inevitable in Vada it floated behind her rather comically, a cloud of blueness. "The nearest spring's on the other side of this cave," she explained to Laurelle as she headed through the cave, which was actually more like a compartmentalised tunnel cutting through a stone structure eerily resembling a castle wall, complete with tower-like structures sticking out here and there. She shed her footwear and picked up a pouch of soap and a rag— items that saw use fairly often so were already out in the open— before exiting the tunnel out the other side and stepping into the nearby spring, about a meter deep, without hesitation. She presumed that her clothing was also a bit bloodied, though not so much as her robe and gloves had been, so she saw no reason to take it off when it would simply become clean here. Covering the rag in soap, she quickly washed her face of the blood, much of it coming off in dried chips which dissolved in the water. Treating her left arm gingerly, she lazily cleaned her right arm as she watched the stuff dissolve away into red ripples and sighed. She worried about the pool becoming tainted by the blood, but she knew it wouldn't be. The springs all connected, somehow, through the pores in the stone.
"Hey, Laurelle?" Demi felt herself coming back to earth. "Thanks."
 
Laurelle sat on a rock not far from the pool. She was pleased to see the bleeding had slowed considerably since she had mended few torn blood vessels. She was still carrying the roll of bandages, since it would probably be best to wrap the wound again after it was clean. She briefly considered saying something like "anytime" in response to her friend, but ultimately just said "You're welcome, Demi." She didn't have any blood on her, but she'd been on the road for a few days since she had last sat down and rested, so a bath was probably in order for her too. Not here, nor now, however.
Finding herself sweating, Laurelle shed her cloak, having forgotten for a moment how hot Vada was. She was a little tired from holding a barrier that long. She didn't want to take second shift on watch when they returned to the material plane, but she wasn't sure if Demi was up to it, so she would volunteer anyway.
After a moment, Laurelle leaned back against a larger rock. "...You never told me you were afraid of blood. I'll try to be more considerate in the future." She was vividly reminded of Keyer moments before his demise, tearing his face apart with his own hands. That was standard fare for her pain spells, but she'd probably refrain from spells like that when Demi was around.
 
"Well... kind of," Demi replied as she got out of the spring. It more or less just took the same step it took to get into it in the gravity. She paused for a moment to cast a light wind spell, noticing the toll it was taking on her since she'd been using magic often again. The wind, already warm, served to dry her off sufficiently... and also to scare off a lizard which had been basking in the mist immobile and camouflaged by the pool until then. The reptile fled in a series of hops, a begrudging rumble escaping it. Frowning briefly, she continued afterward. "I mean, I know there's blood running through all of us at all times. But... well, I guess it's just how I come across it that matters." She shrugged. "When I throw a bolt of lightning at a guy, it doesn't really seem that bad. I think it's a pretty clean way of fighting. But if I stab someone, like with a sword or something... all the stuff flying everywhere, the... flesh, it's just..." She looked down and shook her head. "It was the second time... well..." A gulp. "Yeah, I'm... maybe not the best around blood."

"Anyway, that's why I prefer to smoke my opponents before they even get close," she said after a pause, trying to summon forth her cheerful self again as she turned and brought her head back up, although she was obviously still very drained. "And your consideration's appreciated." She made her way back to the cave, putting her footwear back on over a new pair of socks. "We should be getting back to Skye just about now," she observed, tying her hair back up before gesturing to a shelf on one side of the room where several robes of different colors hung, which looked similar to the one she'd worn before it was sullied by entirely too much blood. "Oh, and you're the artist-type around here, so what color do you think I should try next?" she asked with a smile.
 
Laurelle thought for a moment. "Black." She answered finally. While Laurelle preferred white or multicolored hues, the black would compliment Demi's blue hair. Black a good color, a useful color. As a thief by trade, Laurelle was keenly aware of that.

-

When they returned, they found Skye tending to the fire. The bodies of the haunters were no longer scattered about. The knight had probably disposed of them. The blood still stained the ground, though. That reminded Laurelle. "Oh, I should talk about the haunters. You're both Estillian, so you've probably never run into them. They're everywhere in Kosma."

"Their origins aren't really known, but they showed up a few years after magic became public, I'm told. A lot of beasties did. The haunters are rare in that they can hear the 'sound' of magic. Possibly even better than we can. Magic attracts them. They're not very intelligent, but they tend to attack anyone who uses magic, or at least follow them. A few creatures are like that, but almost none on this plane." The razards of Vada came to mind. "The Kosmoes call them haunters because of their tendency of stalking mages. The Kosman variety is usually alone, and they're less aggressive. I guess these travel in packs. Well, now you know. Let's try to be more careful around them in the future. ...That fight was my fault, sorry. ...I'll take night watch now, Skye."
The knight nodded, too tired to argue. She blinked to Zephyrhome and stored her armor, reäppearing a moment later in the outfit she wore under it, cradling her Focus in her arms. She went to sleep almost instantly after she lay down.

Laurelle stared at the fire for the rest of the night.

-

The morning came. When Demi awoke, Laurelle was still wistfully gazing into the blaze. There were dark circles under her eyes. It didn't take a genius to figure out how tired she was. Skye wasn't awake yet. The knight had exerted herself quite thoroughly the previous night, so she needed the rest. So did Laurelle, but she was obstinate. "Good morning." She said in a ragged voice.
 
Demi's mind also defaulted to the lizards of Vada— razards, she called them because of their tawny ears— and they most certainly fit the description. Doing little but basking in magic-charged mist— until a wind blew it away, in which case they scrambled to find more of the stuff or mobbed whomever was casting magic powerful enough to overpower the buzz of the mist. And where the haunters they'd encountered the night before had human-like faces, the razards possessed an uncanny feature of their own— the humanlike chuckle that they would caw every now and then. It was all too clear that they were somehow cut from the same cloth as the freakish monkeys.

This was one of many thoughts that Demi slept on. Razards, haunters, the bloody episode, the dirk and the green robe, tucked away in a small, lesser-used cave in Vada. Laurelle, Skye, Taras. Taras. Where was he? Wherever he was, Demi hoped it was far away, or at least back in Estillia. Was that far away enough? Did it even matter?
In spite of, or maybe because of, all these thoughts, Demi slept soundly and peacefully, something that she would feel guilty of when she left the tent in her now-black attire to greet Laurelle. "Laurelle..." She felt a pang of guilt at both the fact that she hadn't woken to take over the watch for the early morning and Laurelle had certainly done nothing to do so either. But no, she doesn't need to hear about my guilt. "Morning," Demi simply said. "Looking forward to a day of trekking?" She had meant for it to sound positive, that they would just be doing more hiking instead of fighting, but...

"Now that I'm all rested up, I'll be leading the way today!" Save! Demi thought triumphantly as she made a triumphant gesture to match, tightening the strap that fastened her pack to her back as she was ready to go.
 
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