It was in the afternoon already, and Kristoff was still walking on the seemingly endless road with his trusty buddy, Sven. The road itself was still exceedingly empty, devoid of any other travellers, all but the natural wildlife that occasionally showed themselves.
Now that the pair had finally left the forest, they found themselves in a plain, crops and fences growing alongside in a meat row. Somewhere further away, houses were built, smoke puffing from their chimneys. Now currently in summer, the crops were still not fully grown, farmers could be seen toiling in the fields, their faces hidden underneath wide-brimmed hats.
Away from the relative shelters of the trees, Kristoff found that it was getting unbearably hot and stuffy in his clothes. Kristoff was born and raised in the North, where snow and frost covers everything, and now that he was away his home into the the west, the warmer places of the country seemed strange and hot to him. Not to mention the humid air.
He had taken off his jacket and his hat, something that he would normally wear wherever he goes, and stored in the pack on Sven's side. Even Sven was huffing from the heat, the heavy hair trapping the heat. Noticing and worrying, Kristoff stopped and gave Sven a trim, cropping the hair short.
Sven was noticeably happier afterward.
The road snaked through the field, curving in there and there. Beside the road grew tomato, bushes that lined the water ways. For a while, Kristoff considered picking one to eat, but thought against it when he noticed the look the faraway farmers were giving him. Then the plants gradually faded into wheat, then into tall rows of corn that obscured everything.
After a long while, Kristoff started hearing voices, loud and quiet, happy or sad. Instinctively Kristoff knew that his trip had finally came to an end. When he emerged from the plants, he found himself atop a small hill, and below him lay a jumble of other smaller hills. Small houses littered here and there, people roaming on the roads that snaked through the small valleys. Further beyond, hills started to turn into mountains, grassy ones that was a stark contrast to the North. The scene seemed so familiar, yet so different to his home, the community of trolls, giving Kristoff a pang of homesickness.
Urging an exited Sven, he whispered, "we are finally here, boy! Let's find the Elder, shall we?
Anna-
"Well, are you going to carry on, or just going to sit there?" The ranger asked relentlessly for the hundredth time, pacing around her.
Apparently, Anna chose the latter, as she continued to 'just sit there'. She had't felt this kind of frustration and sadness in a long time, not since the accident of Elsa freezing her and casting her out. In bitter humour, she thought to herself, Never thought that i would be defeated by a tree, and she began sobbing into her arms again.
"Anna, your sister had asked be to train you for a reason."
"A reason?" Anna snapped at him, grief turning into unexplainable anger, "You call this 'training'? Leaving me in the dark, no idea how to-"
"Yes," the ranger said, cutting her off," And indeed this is training. Do you know why?"
"Oh please, enlighten me!" Anna replied sarcasticly and bitterly.
"If I have to, then you must have treated everything I told you like discarded clothes. Wore it once, and into the bin without a second thought."
"Just tell me, what do you mean?!"
"At the start of your training course with me, three days ago what did I tell you? What was the point of your training?"
"To make me suffer?"
"To make you independent, Anna! The entire reason your sister asked me to train you is because she worries about you!"
"About what?"
"You are naive! Weak and unsuited for survival! Trusting! Everything that would get you klled! You even let me, a random person to lead you away to a forest without a thought! You don't even know what rangers are, do you? You lack curiosity, never actively trying to know and notice everything! At first you were strong willed, capable of enduring and not too fussy about getting yourself dirty. But then you fell apart! Why?"
Anna fell silent at this, her mind desperately trying to deny and reject this horrible truth, yet in her heart she knew that he was right. Every word he said. She is weak. She got no idea of anything around the world. She is spoiled and always tried to do everything her way. And failing to hold back, stream of tears started to seep through her eye lids, as she finally accept it.
Softly and in a gentler tone, the ranger said, "Well, we should do something about it, shouldn't we?"
Elsa-
After an eternality of paper work, questions and political decisions, the uproar of the attempted assassination finally calmed down, at least somewhat.
In her mind, seeing from the eyes of the rats in the assassin's bag, she saw that they were on a ship, heaving and shaking from the waves. Commanding one rat, she crept from the bag, unseen out into the hold of the ship, cannons and storage. Using the agility of a rat, she climbed the wall and onto the deck, amidst bare-backed sailors working. Ignoring them, she made a bee-line for the captain's cabin.
Crawling from beneath the door, she emerged into a spacious room, dominated by a larger-than-life table, book shelves and a bed... Where the assassin laid snoring upon it. Resisting the urge to try and kill him right now, she pulled away. There is no need to kill him. When he talked with Hans and that he knew that she is still alive, the assassin would be in deep enough trouble.
She climbed onto the table, revealing that it was covered in charts, assorted random books and other sailing equipments. Looking at the map, the lines that covered it, she knew that indeed, they were heading south, but not the 'Southern Isles'. The lines curved around it, staying clear of the isles. Curious, but understandable. Hans wouldn't be welcomed home, wouldn't he? Judging by the map, they would have already passed the Southern Isles, and strangely, the line lead off the map it self. And that left an important question, where is the ship really sailing to?
Leaving the room, (not before she urged the rat to topple an ink well over the map) she headed for the fore mast, scaling up in seconds. On the top of the ship, perched on the flag-holder, she noticed that the flag was devoid of any sigils. Is this ship a pirate vessel? Could be.
From as far as she could see, no land or other ships are in sight, all but the heaving waves. Deciding that she had spent too long in her... 'Warging', she quickly commanded the rat to stand post, and to notify her of any queries.
Elsa opened her eyes, blinking a few times against the light. She was sitting in the training hall, on a chair. The hall was quite empty, and the only other thing or person here is Robert.
"Did it work?" he asked her eagerly.
"Fabulously." She replied, and immediately tried to stand up, but ended up stumbling, nauseous.
Robert held her back as to keep her from falling, and lowered her back to the chair, "Shh, rest for a while. Warging always does this to first timers. Nauseous, spasming, vomiting, hallucination and such. Truthfully, you got of better than most people I knew."
Listening to his advise, she sat still for a couple of minutes, calming her mind and stomach. After a while, she finally felt good enough for conversation, "It worked, quire well. First of all, all I know is that it is Hans, not the Southern Isles. Second, Hans had apparently broken out of prison, and have plenty of followers already, enough to hire an assassin."
Robert listened without an word, his mind processing the implications. Finally, he spoke, "Grave news indeed. I suggest you to send letter the Southern Isles. They would have to be responsible for this."
"Ah... Fair enough, I will send them a letter tonight," Elsa said, rubbing her neck.
"Once again, get some sleep, Elsa. You look terrible."
She could only smile weakly back.