In Which The Tea Night Be Poisoned, {Closed}

[Briarheart]

Why oh why did he skip breakfast?

The briarbane had been following the young man with the dried-blood hair all morning. At Mother's behest, he began his patrol of the outer perimeter of her territory at the break of dawn. Not ten minutes into his morning, he could sniff the boy out. And in the three hours and change that had followed, he stalked him from the bushes.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hungry.

But Mother doesn't want him eating her "guests". She specifically told him not to harm, only to observe. Her words rattle around in his skull. "Just keep an eye on anyone who enters this part of the forest," she had told them all. All of his briarbane brothers and sisters.

"Watch."

"Wait."

The sentry also remembered the other part of Mother's speech, where she allowed some of the venom and anger that always seemed to be bubbling underneath her stoic fa�ade to seep into her words. "Unless they intend to harm me, Hyperion, any of you, or the forest itself. Then you may do as you see fit."

Well, if you asked the briarbane, this boy sure did look like he was going to cause some trouble. The pine green hood of his cloak was pulled up over his head. At last check, it had not rained in two days; so why would one wear their hood up? Only evil people did that. Only those who intended to do harm. Otherwise, why the need for secrecy? Especially when you're miles and days from the closest Rangers outpost or road back to Underwood!

Rangers. The briarbane hated the Rangers, as did Mother. They were always snooping around, trying to figure out how they could reclaim their outpost. The nights where they sent a small party to investigate were the best nights. He and his brothers ate well those nights.

The briarbane thought that this guy looked like a Ranger. He began to salivate in the bushes as he continued to trail the boy. He wore green and brown. Those were the colors the Rangers wore. But... Where was his weapon? His sigil? He was missing all of the standard regalia that the briarbane was used to finding on the corpses of his Mother's tormentors.

Perhaps he was not a Ranger, after all.

Maybe he was just a lost little adventurer.

Maybe even a hero.

Mother hated them both. She had special orders for him and his brothers and sisters should they find one.

They were to be subdued and brought back to the outpost. Mother would interrogate them, and Sister Hyperion would serve tea and cookies.

He always thought Sister Hyperion was too nice to the heroes. But he had to admit, should Mother decide that her guests could never leave the forest, the snacks always added a bit of flavor to their meat.

The briarbane, silently moving through the underbrush, drew closer to the boy with the dark red hair.