"Don't worry," Sparrow shifted now awake Prince Reginald on her back as finished working her way back up the mountain. "We're almost there."
"A prince doesn't need to be carried by a woman," he grunted, doing his best to appear as if the bone in his leg wasn't splintered in two. "If anything, it should be the other way around. Let me down."
"There is nothing that I would enjoy more than to let you on your merry way, but you and I both know you can't get anywhere without my help at the moment. Also I'm going to forget that first part. "
He opened his mouth to protest when she shot him a glare with a particularly savage message implied. "You will do as I say."
"Yes ma'am," he whimpered.
Thankfully Sparrow had already been rather close to the Westcliff Camp (though close still equaled a good two to three hour trip), and was recognizing the telltale signs upon entry. The rain became steadily heavier, and then, of course, the Balverines.
"Prince," she nudged him to wakefulness, having fallen asleep earlier. "Have you ever fought a Balverine before?"
"No…I can't say that I have."
"Have you ever seen one before?"
"No," his tone was a little more apprehensive. "Should I have?"
"…Have you ever even heard of a Balverine?"
"…"
'Fuck my life,' Sparrow sighed. "We're moving right into their territory now, and without doubt we'll run into them. Balverines are…well…"
A familiar howl cut interrupted their conversation, and without hesitation she dropped Reginald on his ass. "And what do you think it is that you are doing?"
"Quiet!" she snapped. "The louder you are the more you attract!"
The sounds of snapping teeth and growling erupted from the bushes on her right. Sparrow didn't bother to meet them with the blade but rolled back and charged an Inferno spell that had them charred in seconds.
"Not too difficult," but then, nothing really was after the ordeal with Lucien. She turned towards Reginald. "But there will be more, and it will become increasingly more difficult to protect you. If you haven't noticed, they're annoyingly fast."
Reginald opened his mouth, probably to protest, but then closed it after a moment's consideration of her expression.
"I will stay out of the way."
Sparrow nodded her head. "Yes."
"Down by the reeds… swim the sirens of Oakvale out to the seas. Down by the reeds… down by the reeds…something something something something…"
"You have a lovely voice," Reginald commented, and then, as the trail dipped, "Watch your footing."
"Thank you," she replied. "A friend of mine taught it to me."
"Have you ever considered becoming a professional singer?" he wondered.
"No."
"No?"
"I was born to be a Hero," she told him. "From the very beginning."
Reginald ignored the spike of pain that shot up his leg as Sparrow sped up; by this point they could both see Westcliff Camp among the trees.
"I need to make one stop before we go into the town," Sparrow informed him, veering to the right. "It won't take too long."
"What business do you need to attend to?"
Sparrow frowned. "A friend of mine is in trouble."
"A rescue mission?" Reginald brightened considerably. "Now this is more like it!"
About half an hour later, the two arrived at a bandit camp. Sparrow helped the Prince to the ground and wondered at the lack of any noise coming from the inside.
"I'll be right back," she told him. She grasped her pistol, raised a leg, and kicked down the makeshift barrier. Reginald watched as she disappeared inside.
