Moon Mage

while you were in therapy, I was studying magic.

[fallesto]

He plunged his muzzle into the water once more, the icy rush of the river heightening his senses as he pursued the flickering forms beneath the surface. His paws barely stirred the silt, moving with the precision of a finely honed blade, no energy wasted, no unnecessary ripples. Another flash of silver, another swift snap of his jaws, and he surfaced with a second fish gently held between his teeth. He placed it on the flat rock next to the first, the two catches shimmering in the sunlight like twin tributes.

The third fish came with greater ease than the initial two. His paws adapted to the riverbed's shapes, his claws gripping the stones as the current attempted to push him downstream. He had attuned himself to the water's rhythm now, the way it flowed around his legs, how eddies danced near the boulders, where the trout preferred to linger just beneath the froth of small rapids. His ears perked up at the sound of Ell'Hanna's spear breaking the surface upstream, the sharp thunk of wood meeting scales. He remained focused, his attention locked on the darting shadows between his forelegs.

The fourth fish thrashed wildly in his grip, its slippery body nearly slipping free before he tightened his hold, pressing down just enough to quell its struggles without damaging its flesh. He waded toward the bank, water cascading off his fur in streams that darkened the stones below him. As he dropped his catch onto the growing pile, he noticed the meticulous angle at which Ell'Hanna had arranged her own catches, neatly lined up, heads all pointing west, as if they were part of some private ritual before their preparation.

[oops-all-cantrips]

Between the two skilled hunters, enough fish was caught to feed them well for lunch. Ell'Hanna's cooking skills were not the absolute worst, there were a few things she was capable of preparing, one of which was grilled fish. Perhaps it was because she had spent countless hours with her father after bow practice also learning now to descale and prepare the fish properly for eating that she knew how to do it. After the loss of her family, there was a void of time spent learning much of anything other than grief, and people often had little patience for such sadness or now to teach a young woman to cook.

Now there was, for some reason, an expectation that she had been magically been bestowed the knowledge of how to cook; mainly by her aunt and uncle who seemed oddly keen on seeing her marry. Ell'Hanna knew how to feed herself and that was enough, and she was also far more stubborn than either gave her credit for. She would not do something when it was demanded of her and the outcome was not something she desired.

She brought the fish to her humble home, lit the fire, and began to prepare it as she was taught.

[fallesto]

He remained seated, his gaze fixed on her as he observed the girl's fingers, still coated in rice, struggling with the chopsticks like twigs swept along by a stream. Each unsuccessful try sent a grain darting across the table, and every exasperated huff caused her nose to scrunch up in a way that was nearly humorous. He ought to correct her. He would correct her. But for the moment, he allowed her to wrestle with it, taking note of the determined set of her jaw and how her toes curled against the tatami in deep focus. There was something refreshingly sincere about her clumsiness.

Slowly he flexed his fingers over the steaming teacup, observing how the morning light glinted off the smoothness of his knuckles. No scars. That didn’t seem right. The faint white line from his first failed kenjutsu kata at twelve, vanished. The callus beneath his right index finger, worn down from years of gripping sword hilts, now softened into unblemished skin. He flipped his hands palm-up, half-hoping to discover that his lifelines had been rewritten. "This isn’t..." He trailed off, pressing his thumb into the center of his palm as if probing for signs of forgery.

The fabric of his kimono hung loosely around his shoulders, the collar gaping where it had once hugged his throat snugly. He frowned, adjusting the sleeve, only to freeze when his forearm slipped from the cuff, slender and smooth, the defined muscle of a swordsman’s arm replaced by the unmarked skin of a boy barely in his teens. His breath caught. A reflexive glance downward confirmed it: the hem of his hakama pooled around his ankles, the obi cinched as tightly as possible yet still threatening to slip.

“Seems my concerns were right, whatever happened to you, is happening to me.”

[oops-all-cantrips]

She had nearly gotten the grain of rice, but it slipped between the two sticks and her hand cramped at the many previous attempts. Ell'Hanna decided that being hungry was more important than trying to figure out how to use chopsticks. She picked up the spoon, scooped up the rice, and ate it like Shugen had shown her.

"Uh oh," she said through a mouthful of rice, "what do you mean happened to me?"

This was confusing nothing had happened to her that she knew about; other than being lost-ish. She pondered this, chewing her rice thoughtfully. Ell'Hanna did notice that his clothes were too big and his face rounder.

"Why are you getting smaller?"

[fallesto]

He understood the significance of this mission, not only for the clan but for his own sake. It wasn’t just about retrieving the lost Asaemon or demonstrating his loyalty to the Elders. It was tied to the silent promise he had made to Eizen ages ago, the one he had murmured in the stillness of the training chamber: I will not allow them to fade away like shadows. The burden of that vow pressed against his ribs like a second blade, sharp and relentless.

His fingers danced along the edge of the scroll, the parchment feeling suddenly too rigid, too noisy in the silence that enveloped them. He had envisioned this moment differently, perhaps under the plum trees where the falling petals would hide her expression, or in the dojo where the sound of bamboo swords could mask the uncertainty in his voice. Not here, in the glaring daylight where every flutter of her lashes was laid bare.

He required the finest companions by his side, not just skilled fighters, but those who grasped the island’s insatiable hunger. The initial team had been robust and dutiful, yet they had entered blindly, their discipline a fragile barrier against whatever lay hidden in the mist. He was wiser now. He had witnessed how Eizen’s fingers had twitched toward his wakizashi even in death, as if the island’s jaws were still gripping his spirit.

“Then you will accompany me?”

[oops-all-cantrips]

She thought she had said yes, but that could have been her mental response rather than verbal, or that he took her bow as a response to his commentary.

"Yes," she said firmly. Her fingers itched to play with the hem of her sleeves; her legs to move, but she remained still, say for her eyes which could not maintain eye contact.

She hated the idea of going to the island, but knew it was now a part of her duty and honored that Shugen had chosen her despite her having just recently obtained the Aseamon title. Ell'Hanna heard tales of the place; its unending hunger for humans did not sit well with her. She did not need to go to know that there was something deeply wrong with the place, but she would go because she was bid to.

[fallesto]

He followed closely, his paws sinking into the moist earth with silent accuracy. The sun had risen higher, transforming the river’s surface into a shimmering sheet of polished silver. Ell'Hanna stepped in without hesitation, the hem of her trousers darkening as the water seeped through the fabric. She moved with the grace of someone who had done this countless times, her spear held loosely in one hand, her eyes scanning the shallows with practiced intent.

As he reached the river alongside her, his paws sinking slightly into the silt at the bank, the cool mud oozing between his claws. The water’s edge was alive with tiny movements, minnows darting, water striders gliding across the surface tension, but his focus remained on Ell'Hanna as she waded deeper, the current tugging at her knees. She moved like a heron, all deliberate stillness before the strike.

Then, without warning, he lunged forward, his powerful haunches propelling him into the river with a splash that sent droplets arcing through the sunlight. The shock of cold against his belly was refreshing, a stark contrast to the heavy warmth of his fur. Beneath the surface, his paws found smooth stones, his claws scraping against them for grip as the current tried to pull him downstream. He didn’t resist; he embraced it, allowing the water to guide his movements until he caught sight of the flicker of silver scales.

His jaws snapped shut with a precision that would’ve made his former swordmaster nod in approval. The fish thrashed once, twice, before going still between his teeth. He lifted his head, water cascading from his muzzle as he turned to Ell'Hanna, the fish held delicately, almost ceremoniously, in his grip. There was no pride in his stance, just quiet efficiency, as if this were no different than any other task he’d accomplished a thousand times before.

[oops-all-cantrips]

Ell'Hanna remembered practicing her bow as a young child in a river similar to this one; using the arrows to catch fish as her father guided her not too far down river to retrieve her prey. It taught her patience, tracking, and aim, and made catching fish an easier task with a spear. When she felt she needed it, she would practice in this river, a carefully crafted trap farther down caught what she would hit.

The sudden splash beside her made her turn. She watched as the wolf darted into the cold water and reemerged with his own catch. Luckily, he had done it far enough downstream from her that it did not interfere too heavily with where she stood. If anything, it had pushed a few fish up her way, and she was able to catch one of her own.

"I know it need not be said, for you are a wolf, but good hunting."

[fallesto]

The scroll was delivered by a crow, its feathers glistening with the morning dew. He recognized the wax seal even before he broke it, the Elders never sent crows for insignificant matters. The parchment unfurled stiffly in his grip, the ink blurred from either rain or perhaps perspiration. Countless names. The names of the Asaemon. All marked with the same crimson character: 失 lost. No bodies found. No final words. Just silence where the crisp snap of a mission’s completion should have resonated.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound causing the crow to hop back a step. The island had consumed them entirely. Naturally, it had. He had warned them, not that it made a difference. The Elders’ ears were as impenetrable as the fortress walls upon which they had built their philosophies. He rolled the scroll tighter than necessary, the crackle of the paper being the only protest he allowed himself.

He quickly located Ell'Hanna in the training yard, her twin blades slicing silver crescents through the humid dawn air. The chained weapons hissed like living creatures, their arcs intersecting in a rhythm that resembled less of a combat and more of a ceremony, a dance only she knew how to perform. He stood at the edge of the gravel, his shadow long and sharp in the slanting light, until the final twist of her wrists sent both blades snapping back into their sheaths with a click that echoed like a lock turning.

"You move as if you're trying to escape something." He remarked, stepping forward. A moth, attracted by the sweat glistening on her temples, fluttered too close to her cheek. She didn’t flinch when its wings brushed against her skin.

“The first mission to the island has been a failure, there are concerns about what the delay is, they expect betrayal, so I am to go with my own handpicked team. I have already filled almost all the spots, but the final, I want to offer it to you.”

[oops-all-cantrips]

Once she found the rhythm, it was difficult for her to stop moving. Not because she could not control it, but because it felt as natural as breathing. It felt like a piece of herself had slotted itself back into place. The presence of another was the only thing that had interrupted her dance. Shugen stood there watching.

She could have explained that, while yes the movements required made it look as if she was trying to run but could not get far, it required precise footwork and almost continuous motion from both her legs and arms, but she did not. While his expression was the same, Ell'Hanna could tell before he spoke that something was amiss by the death grip he had on the piece of parchment in his hand.

Ell'Hanna responded with a bow before she spoke, and when she spoke, it was a simple thank you. She did not want to show that the news troubled her to hear that the first party sent was missing and very likely dead. She pushed down the horrific feeling of anxiety and dread that bubbled up in her stomach and in her throat. She balled up her fists tightly at her side and stayed stoic externally, but deeply feeling internally.

[fallesto]

He listened intently to her lively chatter while his fingers skilfully maneuverer the knife through the salted fish, creating thin slices that fell onto the wooden board like petals from a wilting flower. The flickering glow of the hearth illuminated her face as she sat cross-legged, her knees poking through the fabric of her borrowed yukata, his spare, with the sleeves rolled up a dozen times. She chatted between bites of pickled radish, crumbs gathering at the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, I have clothing," He replied, sliding a plate of grilled mackerel toward her. The skin of the fish crackled softly, its scent blending with the steam rising from the miso soup. "Not a lot of options, but they’ll do." He observed her poking at the fish with a chopstick, then recalled, no, she likely didn’t know how to use them. With a soft sigh, he retrieved a carved wooden spoon from the shelf.

The spoon clattered against the low table as he settled down beside her, close enough for their shadows to blend in the morning light. He watched as Ell'Hanna quickly shifted closer, her bare knee brushing against his thigh. He tensed momentarily, then compelled himself to relax. "Eat properly," he whispered, showing her how to scoop rice without making a mess.

“Eat, then we will get you better clothing as well.”

[oops-all-cantrips]

The food was different. It did not taste like her mother's cooking, but it was still yummy. She used her fingers to pull at the grilled fish, something that was always a treat for her to eat, shaking out her hands to cool off her fingers.

The sticks were new to her. First, she had put one in each hand and tried to use them that way. When this did not work, she tried to use them like little spears, which gave her about as much success as using them then other way.

Ell'Hanna gladly accepted the help and watched intently as Shugen showed her how to use the spoon, and with more intensity as he used the chopsticks. She looked at hers again and tried to put them in her hand the way Shugen was holding them. Her tongue out, she concentrated on trying to pick up fish while maneuvering the sticks.

[fallesto]

He remained motionless, gazing at her, his typical sneer momentarily absent. The unicorn's voice had brushed against his consciousness like silk gliding over skin, unexpected, smooth, and utterly impossible to dismiss. His fingers flexed once more, this time not driven by a desire to grasp, but by a sense of curiosity. The wind carried the aroma of moist earth along with something else, something crisp and clean like the air of winter following a snowfall. It made him uneasy. No one had ever communicated with him in such a manner, not directly into his thoughts, and certainly not without first trembling or recoiling.

He had never encountered such a beautiful being in all his days. Not in the ravaged cities where blood stained the streets, nor in the charred remnants of villages he had left in flames. Her whiteness was unlike his own, an absence he wore like a second skin; instead, it was a radiance that seemed to draw the moonlight into her and transform it into something more exquisite. The way her mane flowed over her shoulders reminded him of the silver threads that nobles wove into their tapestries, though even those paled in comparison. For the first time, his tongue felt burdened with words he struggled to articulate.

“A unicorn, I have indeed heard tales, but they were said to be all extinct; yet, stories are merely stories and fail to do you the justice you truly deserve, you are stunning.”

[oops-all-cantrips]

She raised her head proudly and snorted, giving her mane a good shake before speaking to him again.

"We are not extinct. Merely scattered." A hollowness ate away at her heart as she spoke. It surprised her how easily she had lied; something she did not enjoy doing and did not make a habit of, but she could not have this human thinking she was the only one left.

She did not trust him, or any humanoid creature for she did not know if any one of them were to blame for the lack of her kind. So, she lied to him in the hopes that he would leave her be in her lonely solitude.

[fallesto]

The mare paused at the entrance of Ell'Hanna's home, her hooves firmly planted in the dirt like roots that refused to budge. The house was modest, crafted from rough timber, with a thatched roof adorned with patches of moss, and smoke drifting lazily from a clay chimney. It was no palace. Not even a proper stable. Just... a human's abode. Her nostrils flared at the aroma of woodsmoke and simmering herbs. Beneath that, a subtler scent, dried lavender hanging from the rafters, mingling with the faint metallic odor of a nearby whetstone.

Slowly her ears perked up as she examined the unpretentious home, the rough-hewn logs still carrying a hint of pine resin, the uneven spaces between the planks filled with moss and clay. It was a stark contrast to the marble halls she had once ruled. Yet, there was something oddly... deliberate about its flaws. The doorframe tilted slightly to the left, as if bowing to a private jest. Smoke-stained copper pots hung from hooks without a care for order. A single blue wildflower flourished in a crevice between the stones of the doorstep, its petals reaching toward the last golden rays of sunset.

She took a tentative step forward. Her hoof scraped against a loose floorboard, releasing a cloud of sawdust that carried the scent of years of toil. The aroma sparked an unexpected memory, not of war councils or bloodshed, but of a long-forgotten childhood moment spent watching carpenters mend temple doors. The memory faded when Ell'Hanna softly cleared her throat beside the hearth. As she turned and paced around the garden, she would remain here then, it was wiser to remain with the human that had shown her kindness, than remain with those she knew little to nothing about and might see her as a tool.

[oops-all-cantrips]

Ell'Hanna knew that horses, in general, were large, especially when compared to her much shorter frame, but seeing the mare so near her home put into perspective how large. Or, and more accurately so, how short she herself was. She let out a huff, glad that her uncle was not present to point out the obvious.

The garden space would have to suffice for the mare. It was not lavish; if anything, it was overgrown, but it grew vegetables she would now share. Inside would do if the weather became too turbulent or cold, which wholly depended on how quickly finding the owner took.

"I am sure you are used to something much finer, but this is my home. There is a river not but a few paces nearby that we can get water from. The garden is, well, overgrown, but hopefully enough for you to graze on for a time. I will work something out with the village."

[oops-all-cantrips]

Hello! I’m Kurt!

@theamazingnightcrawler

The white-haired woman looks up at the new person who entered the room. "Hello, I am Ell'Hanna."

[fallesto]

He stayed close, observing her as his shadow pooled around the futon like spilled ink. He hadn’t truly slept. His back leaned against the wooden pillar by the doorway, his sword resting across his lap like a silent vow. The dawn light stretched his silhouette over the tatami, elongating it until it almost reached her curled form. He watched her fingers twitch in her sleep, noting how her brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out again. So vulnerable. So small. A part of him, the part that still recalled the weight of his own childhood, ached at the sight.

"Shu-chan!"

Her voice, bright and clear, jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, realizing he had slipped into that half-aware state between waking and dreaming, where reality's edges blurred. She was now sitting up, rubbing her eyes with clenched fists, her hair a wild tangle of curls. He exhaled through his nose, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

"Morning …" He muttered, his voice rough from disuse. The sword on his lap felt heavier than usual, its weight pressing into his thighs like an unspoken promise. Find her home. The thought resonated in his mind, a directive as clear as any command from his clan.

He had made a promise, and to him, promises were not just words but burdens that settled in his bones until fulfilled. However, the task was not as straightforward as retracing footsteps or following a scent trail. The girl, Ell'Hanna, spoke of a forest days away, of a mother heavy with child, and of a sister who should have been curled beside her at dawn. But when he asked for landmarks, she only described trees "taller than two houses stacked" and a stream that "laughed when it rained." Details that painted a picture but provided no map.

“Today, we will have something to eat and then we will travel, I need to find your family so that they can have you back, it is the right thing to do.”

[oops-all-cantrips]

Food sounded good, as did traveling to find her family. Her stomach growled at the possibility of breakfast.

"More pickled plums," she asked. Her voice was not hopeful, just curiosity if those were the only things Shu-chan ate when he was at home.

She pat her legs a few times and then looked back up at the man who had taken her in.

"Do you have any clothes I can wear? I can wear these again today, but maybe no tomorrow....and you said it would be a few days, so that would mean at least one other day of clothes."

She counted on her fingers, or at least tried to, the number of clothes that they would need for their trip. At least 2 for each, she thought.

"You make it sound like I am a puppy you found," Ell'Hanna laughed and then her eyes got wide, "One time! I....I found a puppy in the forest and brought it home! Father said it was a wolf pup and put it back, and that made me sad."

[fallesto]

He blinked slowly, gazing at the creature. His golden eyes shimmered in the water's surface. The waves distorted his reflection as the wind swept across the water. It was broken, fragmented. He frowned slightly as he turned his gaze back to the creature. His initial thought was that this was something he desired. She would belong to him and him alone. No one else could ever claim her; she was far too perfect for anyone else. His second thought was that he had never encountered such a being before. His third thought was that she was stunning. For the first time in his life, he hesitated. He did not rush forward, nor did he shout or scream at her for daring to exist without him.

“Hm ..”

The creature raised her head from the water, droplets cascading from her muzzle like liquid silver. Her horn captured the moonlight, breaking it into spectral shards that danced across the bark of nearby trees. Regulus felt his fingers twitch, not with the usual desire to possess, but with something new. A hesitation that wrapped around his ribs like ivy constricting stone.

He was taken aback. The realization washed over him like an uninvited guest, its weight both strange and disconcerting. The creature, no, she, stood with a quiet grace that made the air around her seem to pause. Her hooves left no trace on the moist earth, as if the very ground refused to acknowledge her presence. He found himself counting the delicate curve of her lashes as she blinked, the way her nostrils flared just slightly at his scent. She did not run away. She did not shrink back. She watched him, as if he were the oddity here, rather than the other way around.

“What on earth are you …”

[oops-all-cantrips]

And watch him she did, for she knew what he was and the danger that often followed humans. Her muscles tensed and flexed, ready to run towards or away if needed. Her horn was not just for show, but also for protection if and when the time required. It was not something she particularly enjoyed doing, but seeing as she was the last of her kind, she had to do what it took to survive.

She snorted and the hot air from her nostrils let out a small puff of condensed air. Raising her head high, she answered the human through his mind rather than with words.

"I am a unicorn. What brings you to my forest, human."

[fallesto]

A little later he crouched just outside the garden's edge, his tail neatly coiled around his paws as he observed Ell'Hanna glide between the plant rows with effortless grace. There was a profound satisfaction in watching her work, the way her fingers delicately pinched the stems, the swift twist of her wrist as she pulled out weeds, and the soft mutterings she made while checking leaves for pests. He found himself quite fond of her. Not in the way he had felt towards comrades or mentors, nor with the fervent loyalty of a clansman, but with a simple, warm appreciation that settled comfortably in his chest.

He thought her quite peculiar, but in a delightful way. Humans followed predictable patterns, wake, work, eat, sleep, yet Ell'Hanna navigated her days with a subtle oddity that intrigued him. She conversed with plants as if they could respond, tilted her head at bird songs as if they were secrets worth overhearing, and once, he had seen her pressing her forehead against the trunk of an ancient cedar, her lips moving in a silent dialogue. It should have seemed ridiculous. Instead, it felt like witnessing someone peel back the layers of reality to connect with something older and more genuine beneath.

His tail wagged, just once, a slow, intentional sweep through the air like the arc of a practice sword, before coming to a halt again. The action felt strange, a remnant of some canine instinct he hadn’t yet managed to suppress. But the choice was made. He would stay. Not out of duty, not as a guard or a weapon, but because the curve of her shoulders as she knelt among the plants reminded him, inexplicably, of Eizen sorting through scrolls by lamplight. That same quiet concentration, the same unspoken assurance that the task at hand deserved nothing less than complete focus. He would be loyal to her, he would fight for her and kill for her, she had shown him kindness, and he would do the same.

[oops-all-cantrips]

The wolf offered no reply to her question, just quiet observation as she worked in her garden. Not that she had anticipated a reply; the question was more for her sake than any. Her uncle thought it an interesting quirk of hers, to ask questions aloud to herself as if she was seeking her own advice. It simply helped her to understand what it was she was thinking: if she could take what she was thinking in her mind and form it into words outside of her mind, she could figure out what it was she needed.

She decided on fish. While she did have enough hare to make a good meal, the thought of preparing it now did not appeal to her in the moment. Fish was easier; hare could be for dinner. A simple stew was easy enough, even for her, to do and she could use some of the vegetables she now had. Ell'Hanna grabbed a spear and a basket, and headed down towards the river.

"I am going to catch fish. The river will feel nice in this heat."

[fallesto]

The aroma of burning pine resin lingered in the air long after the brazier had turned to embers. He sat before it, his fingers loosely wrapped around the empty sake cup that remained unfilled. Sleep was a luxury he could not afford tonight, not with Ell’Hanna’s confession still tightly coiled in his chest like a second heartbeat. Yet, his body betrayed him, his eyelids growing heavy as the night wore on. He exhaled through his nose, giving in to the fatigue that tugged at his limbs.

He first dreamed of Eizen, not as the stern mentor who had raised him, but as the old man had appeared in death: lips parted around an unfinished command, one hand still clutching the hilt of his wakizashi even in rigor mortis. The dream shifted abruptly, Eizen’s corpse dissolving into the dark waters of the koi pond. Ell’Hanna’s reflection gazed back at him from the surface, her hair spreading out like ink spilled on parchment. He reached for her, but the instant his fingers touched the water, the image shattered into a thousand silver fragments.

The blade fell before he could react, not Eizen’s wakizashi, but his own, glinting coldly as it severed Ell’Hanna’s head from her shoulders. He jolted awake with a gasp, his hand already halfway to the tanto at his waist before he noticed the pale dawn light filtering through the shoji screens. His fingers shook against the weapon’s hilt, slick with sweat. Just a dream. Only a dream.

The knock echoed once more, three sharp taps against the wooden door frame. "Asaemon Shugen." The voice was youthful, strained in an attempt to sound commanding. It must be one of the clan’s newer apprentices. "The Elders request your presence. Immediately."

He stood up, his joints protesting after being still for hours, and opened the door. The boy, barely fourteen, his forehead still glistening from the oil of his first proper shave, flinched at the sight of him. He couldn’t blame him; he had seen his own reflection enough times to recognize the look after a sleepless night: shadowed eyes, mouth taut like a garrote wire. "What do they want?"

He already knew what it was, the first team had failed, the island mission was not going to plan, they wanted to send him.

[oops-all-cantrips]

The tea helped calm her despite the bitterness and provided some respite in her dreams. Or maybe it was having finally shared the long kept feelings and nightmares with another that helped dull the heat of the fires and mute the screams. Whatever it was, she awoke feeling more rested than she had in years, but not entirely where she should be.

Ell'Hanna went about her morning tasks as she normally would: alone and silently. She rolled up her futon, ate a small meal, dressed, and then went into the yard to practice her sword and exercise. Something within her told her to take not only her katana, but her curved blades as well, blades she had not used in some time since she began her official training.

She took them with her, seeking to apply the knowledge she had gained using a single blade to the two curved and chained weapons. Ell'Hanna wondered how far she could push her skills and how much she could apply from one tool to the other. The one blade required different footwork than when she worked with the dual blades, but both required a fluidity, a dance to the beat around her.

Her katana now felt more like the bell dresses she remembered seeing her aunties and mother dance in: noble, refined, and poised. Her own blades like the shawls for the butterfly dances she and her sister once learned how to dance. More movement, more arms and shoulders. Both a part of her and both danced with the beating drum.

[fallesto]

She truly listened to the human for the first time since the curse had contorted her bones and robbed her of her divinity. Ell'Hanna's voice was not the sweet poison of supplicants or the quivering falsehoods of captives. It was soft and unpretentious, like rain falling on parched leaves. The words were straightforward, rest, home, decide, but the pauses between them carried something more piercing. A choice. Not a demand cloaked in silk, nor a threat disguised as kindness. Just... an invitation.

The mare’s ears perked up at the mention of home. It slithered through her thoughts like a serpent through dry grass, alien, disconcerting. Not a palace. Not a battlefield. Not even a prison. A home. The notion should have repulsed her. Yet, something in her chest constricted, a long-dormant muscle stirring beneath fur and bone. She let out a sharp breath through her nostrils, observing Ell'Hanna’s breath misting in the cooling air. The woman remained still, offering no pressure. Just waited.

So she advanced a step. Then another. Her hooves pressed into the soft ground, leaving perfect crescents behind. The rhythm felt oddly instinctive now, left fore, right hind, right fore, left hind, as if her body had always been familiar with this stride and had simply forgotten. She halted close enough to sense the warmth emanating from the woman’s skin, near enough to count the specks of amber in her weary eyes. Ell'Hanna carried the scent of woodsmoke and thyme, of sweat and damp wool. Human scents. Common. Everyday.

[oops-all-cantrips]

She did not fully expect for the mare to make any sort of choice; at least not in her present state. Ell'Hanna could tell that she was beyond exhausted, and yet the horse moved towards her as if she did intend to follow. Curious since she would have thought that such a creature would have preferred the open fields to graze upon, but she did find said horse in the forest.

Ell'Hanna turned and walked slowly but with purpose towards her home on the very outskirts of the village. Trees provided decent enough shade to make the area tolerable during the summer; the river a space to cool off or think. Most people in the village left this part of the forest alone, mostly because they felt that the entire space belonged to her in some fashion. She did not mind though, it meant that she was often left in peace.

Her home was small, but adequate. Nothing beyond what was deemed necessary inside and a sizable garden that provided her with vegetables and hares that would get ensnared in traps.

"Well, this is my home."

[oops-all-cantrips]

The moon hung low in the sky bathing the forest in its soft light and the very beginnings of night settling in. Fireflies flitted about the tall grasses, signaling to the day creatures that it was time for them to retire for the evening and the nocturnal things to awaken. A light breeze brought the smell of lilacs and earth after the rain. One creature roamed the forest near the river. Its coat and mane whiter than snow nearly glowed in the soft moonlight that filtered through the leaves of the treetops. It moved softer than a whisper, barely disturbing the grasses and creatures about it. A soft and delicate looking horse with a single horn from her head.

Alone, she drank from the brisk water. Alone, she wandered the forest as if searching. Alone. This was all that she had known for some time, and feared that would be all that she would know for the remainder of her days.

@fallesto

[fallesto]

Slowly she trotted around the pasture, her hooves etching precise crescents into the moist earth, a rhythm that felt both strange and unavoidable. The movement came more easily now, her body adapting to its new form with less resistance. Each stride elongated muscles that had once belonged to arms, tendons that had previously wrapped around swords now driving her forward in smooth, powerful surges. She paused again near the trough, nostrils flaring at the scent of her own sweat mingling with crushed grass.

A fly landed on her withers; her skin twitched instinctively, sending it buzzing away. The sensation was prickly, not just from the insect’s touch, but from the awareness that such minor irritations now demanded her focus. Then she noticed the woman beckoning her over, not with words, but with the deliberate opening of an outstretched palm. Ell'Hanna stood by the sagging gate of the pasture, her silhouette outlined by the setting sun. The gesture was patient. Unhurried.

The kind of invitation that carried no expectations, only a quiet readiness. Her ears swiveled forward, then back, her tail flicking once against her flanks. She should have turned away. Should have dashed for the tree line where shadows pooled thick as ink. Instead, her hooves moved forward of their own volition, drawn not by command, but by the magnetic pull of that outstretched hand.

Now closer, she caught the scent of Ell'Hanna's skin, woodsmoke and lye soap beneath the metallic tang of dried blood from earlier butchering. The woman’s fingers were rough with calluses, her nails blunt from hard work.

A hunter's hands. She stopped just beyond reach, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the woman’s scent deeply. It wasn’t trust that anchored her there, but exhaustion, a fatigue so deep it had worn down her defiance like wind erodes stone. As she moved closer to nudge her hand, she could trust her then, she had been only kind and gentle to her, and it means that for now, she would be, safe here, but safety and security where not free, that thought lingered in her head, they would ask for something, humans always did.

[oops-all-cantrips]

"You are also welcome to follow me home, if you wish, though it would require more walking. It is up to you," she said, scratching under the mare's chin, finding another burr, and carefully removing it.

"It also does not have to be now. You should rest, at least here for the night, and then you can decide." Of all the animals that she had brought home as a child or rehabilitated as an adult, a horse would be new. It would not be for the long term however. Ell'Hanna knew that finding the mare's owner was of high priority.

"Rest and then we will find your home."

[fallesto]

Slowly he uncoiled from the futon, letting out a yawn that audibly cracked his jaw, his pink tongue curling as his muzzle stretched wide enough to showcase the gleam of sharp canines. The morning light caught the droplets still clinging to his fur, transforming them into tiny prisms as he shook himself once, sending water pattering against the floorboards like scattered coins.

The stretch elongated his spine, vertebrae popping in quick succession, his claws kneading the worn wood beneath him while his hind legs trembled with lingering stiffness. For a blissful moment, the act of stretching was all that mattered, no past vengeance, no future bloodshed, just the pure animal pleasure of taut muscles releasing their grip.

He just watched her as she moved through her morning routines, the precise way she rolled up her bedding, the efficient strokes of her knife as she sliced dried meat, the absent-minded humming between tasks, and recognized a rhythm similar to his own. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation in her hands.

She worked with the same quiet certainty he’d seen in seasoned warriors preparing their blades for battle. The realization settled into his ribs like a warm stone: this human didn’t fear him. Not the claws, not the teeth, not the way his shadow engulfed half the room when he stood at full height. She regarded him as one might regard a slightly inconvenient piece of furniture, with pragmatic acceptance.

Then his claws clicked against the wooden floorboards as he approached Ell'Hanna with deliberate, measured steps. His tail swayed slightly, not the eager wag of a domestic dog, but something more calculated, like a swordsman testing the weight of a blade before combat. He halted just within arm's reach, his dark eyes tracking her movements as she rummaged through a wooden crate of dried provisions.

When she extracted a strip of venison jerky, his ears perked up. He would help her then, he could fight, he could hunt, he could kill as well, nothing had changed, other than what he was, how he looked, but he was still a fighter, he still had skill, talent and above all, he was loyal to those who were his friends and this woman, he believed, was his friend.

[oops-all-cantrips]

Ell'Hanna busied herself with her usual morning tasks: roll up her futon, dress, prepare breakfast, and sharpen her knives, hunting and kitchen alike. She only had two, but it kept her hands and mind busy. The added task of feeding the wolf did not change her routine much as he did not seem to mind the dry provisions she gave him. Hare or fish would be later.

Once this was done, she tied up her hair higher and off her neck and headed into her garden space. Next to water, this place made her feel the most at peace. There was something about watching the things she had planted from seed grow and produce things she could use.

Tactfully placed traps caught many smaller creatures like hares for later use and deterred larger ones from entering the garden; all checked daily as part of her morning routine. A few still got through, but it did not bother her as much as it did others. Her garden was just within the forest, and the forest was the home of these animals. She was sharing their space, so losing a few vegetables felt more like an offering to the forest than a loss.

As she had thought, many other plants had taken up residence in her garden. Basket on her hip, she began uprooting those that did not need to be kept. She cleared out the traps, which had caught two hares.

"Hmmm. Hare or fish," she asked aloud to the wolf.