Arienne slowly shifts about on a bed of course straw that crackles beneath her as she moves to sit up. Hair and body covered in sand in grit, she rubs at her eyes to wipe away the remnants of strange dreams that plagued her sleep. The scent of wet fur and smoke hangs thick in the air.
A sudden chorus of yips and yells jerks her out of her half-sleep.
"Ah! That hurts!" Lukal's voice rang. "Wolf attack! I'm surrounded!"
Arienne springs to her feet and reaches for her blade, but only grabs onto empty air. She bursts through the hut's frail door that sighs on rusted hinges as it swings to and fro.
"Captain! Help!" He screams out as he flails about in the sand outside the hut. " I'm pinned down!"
Arienne watches on unbemused as her squire wrestles with a litter of wolf-kin cubs that playful nip and scratch at him.
"Breakfast?" Arienne asks pointedly, her face emotionless.
"A moment, my Captain." Lukal pants as he tries to gently remove the clinging furry pups from his body. "Soon as I get out of this mess."
Arienne sucks in a deep breath and releases a sharp bark, causing the capricious cubs to scatter with surprised yelps.
"M'lady, that was a bit harsh. They are but children."
"Then shall I eat them instead?" She retorts with a playful grin.
Lukal nods and quickly scampers off as he chuckles nervously.
Surveying the scene around her, Arienne squints against the bright sunlight reflecting the village's bleached buildings. Pale huts formed of mud and stone surround her, caked in dust brought on by every-present winds. Strange figures move about the sandy village. Tall and furry. They go about the business of common folk, collecting water, preparing meals, washing clothing and caring for their young.
Arienne stares at the children that scurry about. The shapes of their bodies were familiar enough. Humanoid. Though their hands and feet were paw-like. Padded fingers ending on short, sharp claws. Triangular, furry ears sat atop their heads, long bushy tails flick excitedly at their backs. A short, wet nose sat at the fore of the faces, and their mouths curled out below it.
She sneers as they approach.
"You don't like the little ones?" Saia inquired, appearing beside her.
"There's so… many." She groans as little bodies run around them, laughing at play.
"Your friend seems to really like them. He mentioned that children are rare among your people. Is that true?"
"Yes," Arienne confirms wistfully. "A woman of Northenia can live for centuries and count herself fortunate if she is able to bear even one child."
"Most people around here don't make it past their 30th year." Saia says with a hint of sadness. "Northenia sounds nice. I would like to visit it someday."
"Indeed it is," Arienne says proudly. "And my family's estate would be honoured to receive should you ever find yourself in the western noble lands of Northenia."
Saia smiles warmly. "Come, Pestle wants to see you."
She slips her hand into Arienne's and leads her through the village, its residents offering half-smiles and cautious nods as the Northenian passes.
A young, wolf-kin girl approaches her and Arienne nods a greeting.
"For you." The girl whispers, stretching out her hands toward Arienne.
Arienne retrieves a small gift wrapped in stained cloth. Unwrapping it, she reveals an odd-looking compass, its needle swinging wildly before settling to a stop, pointing firmly north.
"To help guide you home." The girl says, her eyes filled with pride.
Arienne, heart resonating with the girl's care and kindness, bends down to her knees.
"Thank you, little one. This means more than you know."
"It's magical!" The girl exclaims. "It points to your heart's greatest desire. Your home!"
Arienne gasps. "Truly?"
"Yes, Lady Lindbergh." A gruff voice answers. "A prized possession amongst our people. It has guided us to safety and sustenance for many generations. Saia tells us of your plight. We wish to help you as you have us."
"Chief Bruzka, this is too much. I couldn't." Arienne retorts. "Your people need this."
She holds the device toward the large, furred figure of the village chief, Bruzka. Taller than Pestle, and limbs covered in thick, grey fur, his intimidating presence offset only by the kind gentleness that oozes from his eyes.
"I insist." He smiles warmly, gently clasping Arienne's hands tightly over the compass.
She nods and moves it into her breast pocket.
"Come." Saia moans, tugging at Arienne's sleeve. "Brother's waiting!"
Arienne gives the chief and young wolf-girl a short farewell as she's led off further by Saia.
The two reach the outskirts of the village where they find Pestle, kneeling in the sand, hard at work next to a curved, metal pipe that juts from the ground, his cursing could be heard echoing over the dudes.
"The pipe has angered you?" Arienne quips as they approach.
"Damn thing is clogged." Pestle grunts.
Arienne steps closer. "Is it for water?"
"Yes!" Saia responds. "It's an ancient water pump. There's a long pipe that goes under the sand to find water. Just pull that handle up and down and water comes out!"
"Except it's clogged!" Pestle scowls, tossing tools into the sand.
"Water… May I?" Arienne asks, stepping toward the pump.
"Be my guest." Pestle scoffs, a brow lifted with skepticism.
Arienne touches the metal, and with wordless incantation weaves her magic through it, down into the earth below.
The sand shivers as vibrations from deep underground work their way to the surface. Cracking and clanking, the pump shakes violently, and, a moment later, a great torrent of water gushes out. Dark and dirty at first, it soon clears up revealing a crystal clear cascade.
"Water!"
The shouts come from tiny snouts, their pink noses twitching as they watch a spray of fluid burst across the sand, shattering the heat haze surrounding the village and eliciting the sight of shimmering rainbows that appear in the air.
The children rush into the muddy sands, rolling and tossing themselves about. Unrestrained laughter erupts across the village as child and adult alike play and tussle in the mud.
"Yet again you bring us great fortune!" The chief yells at Arienne as he tosses children and mud about. "You bring us a river!"
Arienne smiles, proud and content.
"Not bad, Lindbergh." Pestle remarks after giving Arienne a hearty slap to her back, nearly knocking her over.
She growls at him as he walks away smirking.
Lukal, waving his arms back at the village, beckons Arienne, pointing to his mouth and rubbing his stomach, she quickly runs up to him smiling.
"Breakfast awaits." He says grinning.
"Not a moment too soon." Arienne laughs.
"Too late!" Saia shouts as she grabs Arienne's hand. "We're leaving!"
"A moment, please!" Arienne yelps. "At least let us have breakfast!"
"No time. Once Pestle starts up The Hog, he'll leave without you."
"Nonsense!" she scoffs. "Wait here a moment Lukal."
Just outside the village, Pestle, barechested and dripping sweat, makes final checks and preparations on his construct.
As he sweeps his hands over its metal surfaces, scratches, dings and deformations all disappear as strange energies emit from his palm, molding metal as he pleases.
"Pestle!" Arienne yells as she approaches.
He glances at her, groaning as her approaching footsteps thump toward him.
"We have barely spent a day here, yet you wish to leave with no warning?" Arienne scowls. "Spare us a few hours at least. Allow us time to rest and prepare."
"We leave in fifteen." he replies, curt and uncaring.
"Pestle!" Arienne sa, her voice brimming with frustration. "Be reasonable."
Pestle ignores, turning away from her. She struts up behind him, reaching out her hand.
Instrictively, he moves to counter. Grabbing her wrist, he pulls at her, leaning down to toss her over his shoulder, but she remains standing, unflinching, feet firmly planted on the ground.
He stares, eyeing her from foot to forehead, trying to make sense of her sudden show of strength. At her feet, whirls of air suck her boots into the ground, planting her firmly and unmoving.
"Saia's right," she quips. "You are a bully."
She lays a single finger on Pestle's exposed chest, and with a sudden and explosive rupture of air, launches him across the sand, sending him flying a short distance away, crashing into the side of a dune.
"Oh… you shouldn't have touched him." Saya says, panting as she comes running up to The Hog. "He really hates being touched."
"Bully's need to be taught a lesson." Arienne scoffs.
"Well… good luck. He's coming."
Arienne turns from Saia, staring towards the crater in the dune where Pestle had landed.
Before her eyes can find focus, the entire dune explodes, sending massive torrents of sand raining across the vicinity.
Arienne, aghast at Pestle's display of power, watches on half-frozen as he emerges from the cascading sands.
A haze of heat prevents her from focusing her vision, which seems to show Pestle lurching towards her, his body bulging with muscle, his extensive height even taller, his eyes ablaze with an unrelenting anger.
The air around him fluctuates as Arienne squints.
Vanishing in a blur, he clears the distance in an instant, appearing suddenly before Arienne. Taller, stronger and more fierce than a cornered beast.
Before she can react, his massive hand wraps itself around her neck, lifting her off the ground.
Snarling, sweat searing off his flesh, and breathing like a beast he holds her aloft and whispers between gritted teeth.
"Don't touch me."
He tosses her to the ground, where she crumples into a heap, coughing and spluttering.
Saia leaps into her. "I'm sorry Arienne!" She cries. "He's not a bad person. He just hates being touched, ok. Please don't hate him."
Arienne, wide-eyed, remains silent as her breathing slows to its normal pace. She lifts to her feet, dusts herself off and walks to the other side of The Hog.
Pestle doses himself with water from a large canteen, washing off sand and sweat. Huffing and grunting, each exhale seems to shrink the man to his normal, already formidable, size.
"Forgive me, Pestle. I have overstepped." Arienne says pointedly.
He grunts in response.
"These are your lands, your people and your… Hog. I come from parts unknown, bring fairytales of knights and Dark Lords and make demands of you and disrespect your customs and your personal boundaries. Yet I call you unreasonable. My behaviour has been unbecoming. Please, forgive me for these transgressions."
"Sure. Now go away."
"Thank you, Pestle." Arienne says softly. "That being said, I have one more question."
He nods.
"What are you? You are no beastman. You and Saia are not unlike the people of Northenia, though, your ears." Arienne snickers. "So small."
"Humans." He scoffs. "That's what father called us."
"I've never heard of this race. Where do you hail from?"
"Ask Saia. She read all his books."
"Are all humans as strong as you?"
"No."
"A gift then? I, too, have been blessed. My twin sister and I cast our magic wordlessly. An impossible feat for most."
"A gift?" He grunts, his voice filled with bitterness. "No… my power was no gift."
"Oh..." Arienne pauses. "One more request, if I may be so bold."
"What?"
"Spar with me." She says plainly.
"You want to fight? Me?"
"It pains me to admit, but you are stronger than I. A feat no living Northenian can claim. So yes, spar with me. Help me find my weaknesses through your strength."
"I think I might like that." he chuckles.
Arienne nods and turns to leave.
"Midday." He yells out, turning back to his impromptu shower. "Six hours. We leave at midday."
Arienne smiles, a glint of determination flickering across her eyes as she returns to the village.