A Hunting We Shall Go {Stare, Closed}

[Nevin]

“... e you sure this is…” A voice, one Nevin didn't recognize, cut through the darkness that had enveloped him. His mind kicked into gear almost immediately as he tried to figure out what was going on, where he was and why his head was aching like… Ah. Someone had cold-cocked him, laying him out with some kind of weighted sap. Nevin could feel the area around his right eye swelling up and throbbing already. He took stock of his situation.

Nevin was still dressed from what he could feel - he wasn't going to open his eyes just yet, and reveal to his captors that he had woken up. His arms were currently being gripped by two men - each one holding one arm while keeping a hand clamped on his shoulder, keeping him forced down onto his knees as he hung limp between them. Neither man holding him though, was the one who had spoken. That voice had come from a few feet away.

“...he third time, yes. We almost grabbed him at his little alche….” That was a different voice, but this one was mildly familiar to Nevin, coming from behind the redhead. He could swear he had heard it a few times recently - the person had never spoken to him directly though. Or had he just before Nevin was knocked out? Crimson, had someone been stalking him, all the way from Stonevale out here to Corone proper? “Look, see, he's got the red hair and the alchemy stuff.” The voices were clearer now as they argued over his head. “And I saw them eyes like black rubies they were. Dark than dark, but red.”

The person that had first spoken sighed irritably. “But does he have them? We’ve caught redheaded alchemists before, and you swore one of them was our mark. Did you at least check to see?” Them? Nevin froze. ‘Redheaded Alchemists’ was already a fairly specific category that he fit. Maybe he had been grabbed by mistake? "You two. Lift him up, we’ll check now. Sandor, you'd better hope that he's got them and you haven't wasted my time again.”
The two men holding Nevin by the arms shifted their grips, sliding the hand that was on his shoulder down to hold him by the armpit. He was hoisted bodily up, and he was careful to keep his head loose and lolling like he was still unconscious. Panic kept him from moving when he heard a something metal being drawn from a sheath, and then there was a cold point of metal being pressed against his stomach.

Before he could try to free himself, try to escape from what was apparently going to happen to be his death by disembowlment, the blade flashed up, slicing through his shirt and tunic with ease. It took every ounce of willpower for Nevin not to react to his secret being bared before four strangers, and even then he knew he was trembling. The man in front of him whistled, long and low.

“Well, you better thank the Thaynes, Sandor. This freak’s got the tattoos. This is the one we’ve been looking for.” Fear and shame was replaced by anger and shock. The number of people who knew about the lines upon his body could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. Why were these men looking for him? Who had told them?

“Right.” Nevin felt a blow crash down on the cheek on the uninjured side of his face, metal rings cutting his cheek. “Put this tattooed freak in with the other mark.” Nevin felt a cold satisfaction coil in his gut. If there was another prisoner his chances of escape and retribution on these assholes rose. “Worst case one ends up eating the other, and one less mouth to feed before we sell them.” And there went that hope. Crimson, they were putting him in with a cannibal? He was dragged away, as Sandor and the other man began to argue about how much Sandor’s cut should be.

[Stare]

By will of fate, she knew it had to have happened some time. With the amount of power Vitruvion had, and the many long pale fingers he had stretched in various projects, that had significant effect overseas, there simply had to have been some enemies made. Even those who simply hated him for the fact he had stolen their sister, mother or wife for the Hollow, even those whose lives he had ruined because of some intentional or unintentional circumstance. Even those he had never met, who had no direct connection to him, and lived as far away from Beinost as was possible.

There was always those who detested, and wanted to see him weakened. And the easiest way to do that was to steal one or more of his few greatest assets: his people.

Six months ago it would have meant one of a few. Raevin, for instance, was his Elven captain of the guard, a man integral to his projects concerning military needs. One other such was the half giant Brer - a man with the loyalty of a faithful hound and of very few words. Ventura, Vitruvion's sister, would have been ideal, but she had her own powers and her own methods of evading captivity.

Yet, it was now, and now meant that Stare was included in that number of few people. Walking back from the business agent's store had been the easy part - signing the last few papers to confirm the ownership of the Grand Celestial Brewery over into the hands of Sir Vitruvion Elssmith. It was rather amusing to have the word 'celestial' in the title of the business, but that was part of the charm. When Stare had heard this particular mighty beer manufacturer could be persuaded for a sale, she had told Vitruvion of it. He had laughed, after all the vast majority of the world thought him to be half an angel, hence the 'celestial,' and it seemed all was bliss. A few trips there and back for Stare as his representative and it had come to this. The final signatures, the final glints of money. Stare had left, her hands shoved deep in her pockets, heading right out to the harbour of this unusual, small port town. Gulls shrieked overhead, old men smoking pipes half their size billowing enough mist to cause a change in climate. Seedy fighters with rusty knives paraded the streets, and a single robed woman held a parasol above her head. A salty breeze bashed in against the rocks, rickety jetty and the shore, causing the boats to creak and the waves to smash angrily on the shingly with a sound like breaking glass.

As the wind picked up it battered against her feathers. Grunting unamusedly Stare buried the bottom ahalf of her head into her scarf, so only the top portion of her beak and her beady eyes could be seen. Striding along she had focus for only one place, and that was the boat awaiting her in the harbour. With both the harsh wind lashed against her and the determination set she did not see the professional rogue stalking her. Such was it that her powerful eyes only worked on those she could see, and with a man who had been born from the shadows, who lived in the shadows, she had very little hope.

When she turned down a small alleyway, darker than the others, to take a shortcut to the harbour, the assailant attacked. He had a single second, he knew, before she might notice him, then she would look at him and that - he had been warned - would spell disaster. For this you see was the kenku noble bitch with the eyes, that every good bounty hunter had been searching for for the past three months. If she even glanced at you, it was said, your task would fail, all your plans would go to nothing. You had to be silent, and you had to be quick.

And you had to silence her as soon as you could.

Which was why the only thing Stare felt was a prick. A single sharp stab to the side of her neck. No sooner had she siezed, and noticed the pain, and what it could mean, she began to slip back into unconciousness, as the fast-acting sedative took effect. Quick and dextrous arms caught her, lowering her gently to the ground. As she opened her beak to let out a startled caw, a single, warm hand pressed to the side of her head and a sound was heard.

"Shhh," it said, "Shhh, everything will be fine."

----

She was startled awake by the sound of metal hinges grating. Sitting up in reaction she immediately tried to open her eyes - then found she could not see anything. There was something obscuring her vision - a darkness of some kind. Was it just night time? No, because even as she looked around there was no senes of heat coming into her vision, no even remotest of elements drifting in ... and she could usually see in anything. No, either this was actually a pure pitch black area, or the itchiness near her temples had something to do with it.

Snarling a rapid caw she let a voice echo around the room as she tried to move a hand to lift it in order to scratch that undesirable itch. It was somewhere, curled behind her for some reason, and it twitched at her alert response, moved a millimetre - then stopped. Utterly stopped and there was cold, hard circles of metal around them.

It was only then that Stare began to put the pieces back together and remember what precisely had happened.

And the hinges? There was apparently a metal door opening. And heavy footsteps coming inside. Thud, thud, thud.

"'Ere," said a voice she strangely recognised. "'Ave something to eat, crow," it laughed. Andthe sound of something was dumped.

And Stare snapped her beak savagely, as she remembered then the last few days. The awful, last few days, where she had been handcuffed hand and foot, just as she was now. Blindfolded, permanantly to stop her 'from doin' tha' freaky eye thing we 'eard abou'." One time, she had managed to pull off the blindfold, and the men - her captors - had learnt their lesson and now chained the blindfold around her head. She had left one of them apparently with an ugly skin necrosis that had not yet been healed. And another couple had large cut marks on their hands, faces. That led to her ankles being bound as well, but honestly - when you were stuck in a cage all day and couldn't actually see anthing, who cared?

And when you had realised that after these four days you could not make contact at all with your god on cognitive speed-carrier pigeon, was there actual promise in giving up?

She hissed at her new comer 'dinner' and snapped in the direction of the voice.

"I will eat your eyes with soup," she cursed him. "You and all the ones here."

"Not before we get our money first, bird-brain," the voice replied, cheeringly, and the door was once again slammed shut.

Leaving Stare with an unknown stragner, who she could not see and did not really want to talk to. She did still not know where she was, she still could not contact Vitruvion - her probable saving grace in this hellhole, and she still could not move.

Quite honestly, it could not get worse.

[Nevin]

Nevin's head was swimming as he tried to get his bearings. The 'gentleman' who had dumped him in this cell had not been particularly keen on avoiding trauma to his ‘unconscious’ cargo. While two men had been half-carrying, half-dragging him between them at the start, one of them had gotten tired of it and let go, leaving the other man with a suddenly much heavier burden.

This had prompted the other one to drop Nevin as well, and Nevin had dropped like a sack of potatoes to hit the ground. His head had still been ringing from the backhand blow that the unknown man had given him, but he had still tried to get up to his feet - any opportunity for escape - only to be met by a brutal blow to the side of his head with a club of some kind. Then another smashing foot caught him in the stomach, and Nevin had felt a surge of bile in the back of his throat.

The short, callous exchange had taken maybe a few seconds, and left Nevin utterly dazed, but still semi-conscious. There had been a brief ‘argument’ about which of the two would finish carrying him to the cell, which he vaguely thought was won by the crook who had the club - something about not going near the bitch who’d given him the rot made him especially vicious. So the kicker had grudgingly started dragging Nevin again, now by the feet, down the stone corridors. The captured alchemist tried to keep his head from hitting the ground too much, but he was already shaken and having trouble with thinking so he did not have much success.

There was a harsh sound of grating in his ears after a few moments of stillness, and he was dragged/thrown past where the sound had come from. There were muffled voices spitting at each other with vehemence, and Nevin could tell one was female, but his head was throbbing too much for him to figure anything else out beyond the fact that it was strangely familiar.

The other person in the cell seemed to be content to ignore him for now - which was a relief because he was still convinced that their captors thought Nevin would get eaten by this person, and anything that kept him alive in this situation was a good thing. That was when Nevin realized that his captors apparently thought him utterly incapable of escape - they had left him unbound, and with most of his clothes. Yes, they'd taken all of his gear, but they hadn’t even bothered handcuffing him.

He sat up - apparently they were convinced that this other person would kill him so they just did not care - and shook his head, ignoring the swelling on the side of his head as he started trying to peer through the darkness in the chamber he had been dumped into, looking to see if there was any other way of escape than the door that his captor had just left. It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and the throbbing pain in the side of his head to drop enough for him not to hate the thought of opening his eyes.

“Nope, not on board with this.” He massaged the side of his head, trying to feel if he was developing a lump where the bastard with the club had clocked him. Nevin forced his way to his feet, pulling himself up with the cars of the cage, then looked back, trying to peer through the gloomy cell at his erstwhile cell mate. Hopefully they didn't decide to go for him now that he was on his feet - his was a shaky stability, completely reliant on holding himself up with the bars of the cell.

[Stare]

Stare went quiet as she heard the final creaks of the door being shut. Her body was still but her heart hammered, like every time it really did when she had heard the guards approach, say something outside or create some other noise that might mean then coming towards her. Into her cell. To feed, chain, shout at our spit at her.

But never hit. It seemed, Stare had surmised, that these were bounty hunters. By the way they spoke over the past few days, taking about her as their 'target' and what she was 'worth'. It gave her a clear idea that there was someone out there who wanted her caught, alive and unharmed. They knew about her eyes - she had always had a blindfold here, minus the time she had managed to get it off. And they seemed to know she had some form of telepathic connection, for either by accident or deliberation, her connection to Vitruvion - her greatest chance of getting out of here - was not working. No matter how many mental stabs she sent at the walls of her mind, there was no reply. Before he had not replied ... But not for five days. Not for this length of time. Not without a tiny pressurised hint of him telling her to come home.

They knew her powers, it seemed. And they had her to sell her on, and there was only one reason they would do that. Vitruvion.

They had messed with her head, blinded her, and yes, force fed her. But never before had they placed someone else in her cell.

"You just stay over the other side of that room," she hissed darkly to the whatever other creature was there.

She dragged her legs closer to her body, a ring of harsh iron clanging out as she did. Loudly, she clacked the sides of her beak together, warning the newcomer. Though she couldn't see properly, and could feel the padlock pressed into the back of her head, she could still hear the uncertain other being cautiously scuffing the ground as they moved. What could it be? A new person to tease her cruelly or truly a source of food, that she was expected to eat? Did this mean she was not going to be fed else? Did this mean they were testing her? How did the expect her to hunt when she couldn't move or see. Idiots.

"Stay away or I will attack," she screeched again, drawing her body closer, hoping that the other being could not see her bound and blindfolded state. If she remembered rightly from her brief view of the room, it was indeed dark, and she had the deepest corner.

"Just stay away," she growled, to the chorus of metal. "Just ..." And she shook then, truly scared, her voice betraying her.

[Nevin]

"Oh." His head was clear now, and Nevin felt he knew that voice - knew it quite well in fact, despite the fact that it had been some time since he had last spoken with the other individual who was currently locked up in a cell with him. There was no way, no way at all that these idiots could have known what they were doing when they put him in here with her. No way they could have known that he would never think for a moment that she would hurt him, at least willingly. If she had been in here so long she had gone mad that was another story - but that did not seem to be the case, as she was speaking clear, coherent sentences, and actively trying to scare him away by clacking her beak in his direction.

He felt a tremor of rage run down his spine at the fear that was in her voice, and he relished the sting of pain as he dug his nails into the palm of his hand, the small white crescents not quite breaking the skin. There was no easy way of telling what had happened to her in here - Nevin was already well acquainted with the fact that these bastards were cruel and rough to their captives. She sounded terrified, a note in her final words that stung him. Stare, Avis, was afraid of him. And he did not appreciate that fact.

Worse, he couldn't see what was wrong with her. She was huddled up in a corner in the darkest part of the cell, and did not seem to have recognized him at all. He didn't dare get too close while she was afraid like this either - he had seen what her claws looked like and he did not relish the idea of getting more personally acquainted with them while she was lashing out in fear - he doubted he would survive such an exchange. He had to think of some way of getting her to calm down - the alchemist didn't even know if she could understand him through her fear.

Slow, careful steps carried him over to the darker part of the cage as his eyes tried to adjust to the gloom. The lines along his exposed chest were glowing a faint red from the blood trickling down his face, but that weak paltry light did not pierce the gloomy shadows that she was huddled in - just enough to show that she was backed into the very corner. Nevin slowly sat down, staying a short distance away from her, suppressing the anger as he closed his eyes.

"While I had hoped to see you again I could have done without the ah, less than stellar accommodations, and I think you might agree with me. So, dear Avis, how would you like to get out of here and exact a little retribution along the way?" He used her old name in the hope of disassociating himself from the assholes who had captured them. And while he generally had an 'I don't care leave me alone attitude' this situation was one he felt comfortable in being... Unbridled. Now, he just hoped that she wouldn't attack him out of fright.

[Stare]

In that moment, her heart skipped a beat.

Several beats in fact as she heard her old name ... The name she had once had back in the kenku homeland, before she had ever travelled, before baking, before the Hollow. And there were such an honest few people who knew that name that Stare was sure she knew who it was when he spoke it.

As she fit together the pieces - the place, the timing, the lack of much travelling at all, besides that she could not remember in sleep, Stare realised that it just fit together. Her fear vanished, almost at once, her threats became a gasp.

As she figured it out and could not believe her luck. Passionately she leant forwards, ignoring the terrible clanging of the chains that bound her and pushed forwards on her knees as much as she could. With arms pinned behind her and feet bound likewise, she needed to hunker at an awkward knee-shuffling crawl. She grunted and growled as cobbles bit into her shins but she went until she could trust her head and feel the warmth of light onto her feathers.

"... Nevin?" She whispered, unwilling to let the bounty hunters know they knew each other. "Is that seriously you? What on earth are you doing here?"

And she blinked blindly, but anxiously behind her blindfold, at least happy that she wasn't chained to any wall. Scuttling forwards again she hissed more.

"I can't bloody believe it ... You ... Are here? What did you see out there, what are they like? Or have they blindfolded you too?"

With fear that they had she anxiously tilted her head forwards, her beak feeling hotter with each moment it was in the sunlight. Though this place was dark, she knew the damp from the dry, the cold from hot, and she could tell she was now near him - and near light. Slowly she thought of all the things that had happened in the month or so since she had last seen this blood mage - Vitrvuion's ownership of her, her growth in powers, her life - and then she grew excited.

"Yes let's escape," she agreed.

[Nevin]

A rod of white hot rage shot through Nevin - quickly sublimating into icy fury. Avis was cruelly hobbled, bound hand and foot, barely able to move. She had crawled away from the wall - but crawling was all she was capable of, as he didn't think she could even stand. Her feathers, normally a glossy black, had become matted with filth, likely a result of being here for days.

But worst was the fact that her eyes were covered, and not just blindfolded, they had wrapped a chain around her head, securing the cloth blindfold in place. Just looking at that made his head hurt - the chain had been wrapped up tightly, to prevent sleeping, and looked painful.

He reached out, shooting a one-eyed glance over his shoulder before doing so to make sure that no guards were coming, and carefully took her shoulder, to give her balance as he looked over her bindings. These bastards had made sure she wouldn't be able to escape on her own… But she wasn't.

“Yes, it's me. You filled a special little vial before suddenly running out on me - thank you for the note though.” This was said in a soft whisper, just loud enough to reach her inches away from him. It had kept him from thinking the absolute worst about that situation, and had been the only reason he hadn't disposed of the vial afterwards.

“And no. I'm not blindfolded, I can see - well, partially see.” He said this with a slight pang in his voice that he quickly banished. “The fuckers knocked me out with some kind of sap, and I can't see from one eye. They had a bit of fun whaling on me, but I've been through worse. The idiots didn't even bind me - I'm just a… a tattooed freak of an alchemist, and they stripped me of my gear.” His voice hitched heavily, a wave of shame and anger at his secret having been exposed to clear hostiles.

“I think I was just a target of opportunity - I was trying to travel to a forest I heard of when the bastard snagged me. Whoever wants me, did not warn these idiots of what I can do. Now then.” He bent down and looked at the manacles on her limbs, frowning.

“I can get you out of the cuffs. But I need you to do something.” Nevin slipped one of his arms under her hand, setting it right beneath her claws. “I need you to cut me.” Nevin wanted to say more - to reassure her, to comfort - but they didn't have time. The guards would likely come back soon to check to see if they needed to clean up a body if nothing else.

[Stare]

She sucked in her breath when he touched her, flinching out of instinct more than anything. If there was one thing the last few days had taught her, it was to take nothing as advantage. Any man at any time to come in and fix more chains around her. Anyone, who did not know what she was worth (probably the reason they had not harmed her yet) could come and rape or kill her. Dinner time was ugly as without her eyes to see Stare had had to rely on her captors in order to eat. Mostly so far it consisted of opening her beak, or having it forced open, and some ugly cold rations forced into her gullet.

So when Nevin - for she was so sure it was he now - touched her, the kenku gasped and tensed. Immediately she ducked her head in apology and made certain to listen as he spoke. Certainly she was surprised when she found out that he was not blindfolded, and she could not help the green snake of envy stab at her breast when it occurred. But then, as she considered, it made sense that she would have no sight, because of what she could do with it, and it made sense to bind her. Because she could take her blindfold off and reduce them to rubble. Nothing stood in the way of her stunning stare now, and the ability of hers to damage skin could go terrifyingly far.

"Why would they target you out of the many on these islands?" she asked, ignoring his request for now to cut him. It was stupid, really. It was never an option, he was her friend after all. He said he could get her out of the cuffs, but she doubted that very much.

So many times, in the past few days, she had tried. Easing her claws into the locks she could reach, and picking. Using a long stick she had luckily found on the ground - well that had led to self-stabbing in the butt, that could be admitted. Truly, she did not think that getting out of these bonds - for now - was possible. It could wait, because right now she wanted to know the reasons why he had ended up here also.

"Nevin, I am sure these ... idiots are bounty hunters. They have not harmed me, besides my ... whatever you can see."

Uncomfortable at the touch of his flesh under her claw, she tugged at her wrists, grunting as they sent her rocking forwards. Only a quick shift of her weight caused her to not topple right over. At least she was away from his reach, however. Stare paused, then continued.

"Okay, that and force-feeding me, because they are dickheads. We need to know where we are ... but if you do not know then I cannot help right now. Your essences of blood won't help today to ... pick a lock. Unless your blood is particuarly acidic now."

[Nevin]

The way she flinched away tore at Nevin, and stoked the fury in his gut. He knew, knew that she had had bad memories of a situation painfully similar to this - she had told him! - and still he had acted without thinking. He wanted to curse himself for the utter idiot he was, but that was not what needed to happen now. She seemed apologetic enough, ducking her head towards him, but still, the damage had been done. Crimson help him, he was dumb. She pulled away, retracting her arm and nearly falling over in the process, and she had questions that he did not want to answer, but needed to. A long sigh escaped him and he ran his fingers along his chest, feeling them catch on the raised lines of blood that ran across his skin.

"Whoever they are, these morons were looking for -" Whistling from behind him, coming down the hallway, and Nevin cursed. "I'm going to back up to the edge of the cage, until the patrol passes." The whistling individual came into his gaze, the man who had tossed him in here it looked like. The 'guard' was spinning a key ring on an outstretched finger, his other hand resting on an oak club that was hanging from a belt-loop. The man paused when he saw Nevin staring at him with one dark eye, and smirked, jangled the keys in his direction, and turned around and walked away, still whistling. The blood mage waited until he had heard a door close down the hallway, cutting off the whistled tune, before slipping back across the cell floor to Stare.

"Right then. These men were apparently snagging red-headed alchemists from over Corone, according to what the man who seems to be in charge said. But they were looking for me specifically - they recognized me..." Nevin took a deep breath, rubbing his bare skin in aggravation. "They recognized me by what the men thought of as 'tattoos'. They.. they recognized me by the lines along my skin." Nevin sank down, his body dropping into a slump as he finally admitted it out loud, what he had been doing his best to avoid even thinking about. If someone knew enough to send bounty hunters - bounty hunters! After him! looking for him using the blood on his skin as the means to identify him... they had to know the lines existed in the first place. And that was a painfully small list - one of the only people on it was sitting in the cell across from him, and had a direct line to another. No... if someone knew and had sent bounty hunters after Nevin... it was a survivor. "It's got to be a survivor of that bloody cult. I thought all of those people had died..." The words escaped his lips in a disbelieving tumble, taking more energy from him, leaving the alchemist shaking in disbelief. He didn't know how long he sat there, feet away from one of the few people he called friend, shaking at that thought.

Finally he stirred, refocusing his eye on Stare. He had told her that - no, no he hadn't. He had gotten distracted asking about her eyes, and then she offered her blood, and he had never gotten to explain the last of the abilities he had had at the time. If he wasn't so shaken from the revelation he had just had, Nevin might have laughed. "No... no, nothing so exotic as that. I was carrying some acidic blood essence on me when I was grabbed - I hope the hunters don't try to drink it... or no, I hope they do." Nevin's tone was vicious as he said that. "But that wasn't what I was referring to. As long as I have blood, I have a weapon, Avis. I got distracted from finishing my explanation that night." He took a deep breath. "Given enough free blood - or my own, considering I won't resist it - I can create temporary constructs out of a quantity of blood. A hammer and dagger, to break the chains, for example. Or..." His eyes glimmered in the light as he shot his gaze over his shoulder in the direction the guard had gone. "Or, a dagger to kill that bastard to grab the keys from him. He knows I have no weapons, and I can fake being weak well enough. Your call, though the keys might have the key to get that damnable blindfold off of you. Either way though, I need to bleed. As for where we are - major port in Corone, I wasn't out for more than an hour at worst. Not long enough to take us to another city. I was trying to book passage in the general direction of a place called Lindequalme? When they snagged me." He sat back, running one hand over the swelling around his eye, then to the gash on the side of his face. It wasn't deep, and nowhere near enough blood had escaped to be useful. Damn.

[Stare]

Patiently, she waited, longing to keep the time going, so long as eventually she got out of this dread room. In all honesty she did not know what to do when she got out - she was hoping Nevin would have some sort of understanding of the layout of this place.

And neither did she truly know how Vitruvion would react when she ended up back on his doorstep? Would she face weeks of pain and forced apology-making like she had done many times before? Would she be dragged back to the Hollow?

Pausing, she realised that the latter idea was stupid. Vitruvion needed her now, more than ever. Over the past six months she had become vital to his organisation. No matter what may have happened to sever their connection was not her doing. Indeed, she could still feel the pressure of the cuff against the skin at her left wrist - though admittedly, that might be just the manacles.

An idea struck in her head and as Nevin finished his words she twisted so her back was to him, moving oddly with short motions due to her limited maneuverability. It was all accompanied by the, now familiar to her, shake of chains. As she heard him finish off his description of his power a final decision came to her mind and more eagerly she moved her self back into where she thought the light was.

Or where it should be, at least.

And then she stopped, pausing as the young man mentioned the Red Forest. A sigh set into her throat, as she knew he was rather niave in some ways. Any smart Raiaeran never to go there. It was full of horrors, disgust and crimson trees, when despite all the effort to slay Pode, the Forgotten One there. The forest still had its hunger. And would maybe never stop unless a bold magician ended it.

"Lindequalme, you do not want to go to," she said quickly. "If we must ... I will tell you more about it later, but never go there," she grunted, as she realised just what he might have heard to make him want to go there. "There is a connection to blood. But I need you to look at my left wrist first."

She tried to angle her body precisely where he was. "Is Vitruvion's cuff still there? And if so, we're in very big sh*t. I can't contact him."

She huffed through her beak. "Anyway, check the locks, see if you can make something for them ... And then use my blood, Nevin. Not your own."

"Or use both."

The thought came to her and she nodded, lifting a single claw to move it closer to the opposite hand. It wasn't that hard to do that. They were shackled together after all.

"Use both."

And she began to press into her own flesh.

It's up to you whether the cuff is there or not. I'll go with the flow as to what got plans either way