Kylan watched with raising incredulity as urVa continued firing arrows with a relaxed certainty. At twenty-one arrows, urVa ceased firing, making a hmmm sound of satisfaction, and then ambled his way back to the fire. Kylan watched as urVa checked over his items around the fire. Among them were carved shafts, spherical lumps of clay, and a bowl weaved from long leaves with a thick amber substance inside. The makings for his non-lethal arrows, Kylan mused. "urVa?" Kylan said. The mystic stopped in his gathering of the tea mugs and looked to Kylan.

"Hmmm?"

Kylan gestured to one of the shafts for permission to handle it. urVa nodded. Kylan delicately picked one of the shafts and studied it's craftwork. While he himself had no application in woodwork, despite it being a common practice among both the Stonewood and Spriton clans, Kylan could tell he was handling a fine sample. Small etchings and ornamentations have been engraved into the shaft that ought to have taken hours of tender care. Curious, Kylan checked on whether he had happened on a particular, special arrow in the making but all the shafts had their own unique, yet equally detailed markings. He then examined the clay balls that would make the merciful arrow heads. "Where did you get these?" He handled one and could see large finger prints covering them.

"I made them… dug up the clay along the Black River. Lots of clay, when you dig and sing deep enough for it." urVa spoke of it like it was no significant chore. Even without ever witnessing it, Kylan knew no gelfling would agree. And he did not quite get what urVa meant by singing for clay.

Tavra continued sleeping, looking peaceful for the first time since Kylan knew her. urVa ambled up to her. Kylan next regarded the leaf bowl of the amber substance. "And this?"

"Tree sap. Needed to collect from many trees for that. Costly for them to give up too much." He gently rolled Tavra onto her back, though he seemed unconcerned about her waking up. Kylan paid heed, though he neither saw nor felt signs of trickery. He looked back to the leaf bowl.

"How did you get this much of such a sticky, viscous substance? Did you have to drain it, or …?"

"Ask them nicely, and they'll give you some," urVa replied. His hands were hovering over Tavra now, like he was doing some sort of aura-inspection, and he rocked his head lightly side to side, like he had a catchy tune stuck inside.

"You asked the trees… for some of their sap?… And they just gave it to you?" Kylan asked, incredulity rising again. He doubted urVa to be a liar, but he wondered if the hermit may be a little out to lunch. Speaking of which, he felt his stomach growl and laid a hand over it.

urVa kept his eyes closed. "Some trees take a lot of coaxing, and you have to sing for them. Everything responds to the right tune. You are already well equipped for that." He briefly opened an eye and pointed one of his square-tipped fingers at the firca hanging on Kylan's chest.

One of urVa's other hands lingered over Tavra's chest, as though the air had become tangible. Another hand lingered similarly over one of Tavra's arms. urVa tilted his head in possible curiosity, and leaned in as though for closer inspection despite his still closed eyes, like he was listening. He made another hmmm sound, then lifted his head and turned away. Perhaps whatever he found had failed to hold his curiosity. Or maybe he felt it was not his business.

"She'll be alright. She's a strong one. Someone watches over her too," urVa said. "She'll benefit from your friendly healer, though." One of his hands continued to hover over Tavra's arm. "As a precaution. And you'll all benefit from some lunch when your friends return. Gelfling like to eat when they come together. Yes." urVa was fetching a few more ingredients from his packs.

Kylan stood from his spot to check on Tavra himself. Finding her sound, her pale complexion regaining vitality, he removed the broken sword from his belt and laid it by it's proper owner. He pondered what ordeal the soldier and blade had been through, then sat himself back down and occupied himself with his tablet and scrolls. He was soon absorbed in his repainting of the past in an accurate but poetic light.

When he got to the point of recording about the arrow rescue from the guards, he heard a soft but very close hmmm by his ear. "Good. You're a smart one."

Kylan nearly jumped out of his skin when he found urVa's nose hovering over his shoulder. urVa appeared either obtuse or unconcerned that he had nearly given Kylan a heart attack.

"A musician, and a writer. Very fine occupations." He gave Kylan a surprisingly warm smile; a sort of praise Kylan was only familiar with receiving from Naia, though Tavra had recently given him similar feelings of worth too.

"Well, uh…," Kylan tried not to gulp. "I suppose with all the good deeds Naia and Tavra have done, and probably Rian, others deserve to know of it, and so someone needs to record it." What's wrong with me? he chastised himself. He detected nothing dark about urVa, and yet something about him reminded him of…

Kylan shook his head. Sure: the four arms, the cloak, the stealth, and aptitude in hunting if he had the intent…

"Uh. When you said that Rian had been captured by the Hunter…" he resisted shuffling away as urVa, still approximate, turned his snout to him with an air of captured attention. "Is everything you know about the Hunter from Thra, or do you have your own knowledge about him?" There was not a single iota of anger in urVa's demeanor, but something in the question clearly bothered the mystic.

"I know he mostly dwells within these woods. And sometimes wanders beyond. I try to keep an eye on him. But he is quick. Tireless. Hungry. He forever lives for the hunt. And hunts to forever live."

Kylan was puzzled on the last bit. "Try to keep an eye on him. Like, you try to stop him sometimes?"

urVa regarded Kylan. "That would be dangerous for me. Even if I match him, I cannot defeat him."

Kylan dipped his chin. "Apologies if I am pressing or being nosy…. I just want to know more… so I can stop him someday. He killed many. Including my parents." There it was again; behind urVa's eyes rippled shame, regret, and guilt.

"My condolences." urVa now looked a bit sad. "Your endeavor is a brave one. And I agree. Someday, the hunt must end…"

Kylan felt evermore sorry for questioning, and did not fully understand why. With a slight huff he redirected the conversation. "And how do you know if I am any good a musician?" He tapped the firca on his chest. "For all you know I just wear this instrument for show. Or did Thra tell you that too?"

urVa's sadness did not so much pass but shift; like the conversation. "Like how I know her sword is not for show," urVa gestured to Tavra's sword then Kylan's firca. "Your instrument sings its story to me. It has played many nice melodies with you."

Kylan frowned. "My instrument sings to you? Right now, even as it hangs on my chest, and not on my lips?"

"Everything has a song and voice. How else could I have found the right tune for the trees? Or the clay and stone for my arrows? Though I admit, Thra has been getting out of tune lately…" The words could have been a joke, but urVa's eyes crinkled in legitimate worry as he said the last bit, and hugged himself with one pair of his arms.

"Out of tune… in what way?" Kylan asked. He had an inkling of what urVa meant.

urVa indicated to Tavra's broken sword. "Like that poor blade, Thra is wounded. And the wound will not recover with time. It must be mended. Healed. Until then," urVa regarded the sword more intently, "it cries in pain."

Kylan felt oddly sorry now for the burnt piece of metal and recalled when Tavra asked, pleaded, him to retrieve it.

"I'd like to get her account of what happened to it. And what else she may have found out. For my story too, but more importantly for the All-Maudra. It's vital to know what Tavra found out."

"It would also be important… to add more of your own recording…about yourself…." urVa commented, stroking his long throat while he studied Kylan's notes again.

"So you can read," Kylan confirmed in mixed awe and surprise, then trying not to appear bothered asked, "And how long were you reading over my shoulder?"

urVa pointed to a part in Kylan's writing. "When you got to the part about 'Into the Belly of the Beast.'"

Kylan looked back to his scroll. "That's almost the entire time I was writing…," Kylan exclaimed.

"And it was a good time – good read. You provide excellent stories. And excellent wisdom."

Kylan fidgeted. "Such as…"

urVa pointed to a part a little ways after 'Belly of the Beast.' "Always trust a Drenchen's gut," he chuckled. He traced Kylan's writing. "You have brave friends indeed. Fierce and bold. But… I think their song teller is needing more voice in this tale."

"Well…," Kylan scratched the back of his head. "Once inside the castle I mostly just tried to stay out of the way. Or get in the way, in the positive sense. And I made one good bola throw."

"Then include it," urVa insisted. "And I believe you are not specifying how Naia and Tavra found their way to Gurjin. And you seem to glide over a clever infection act while escaping the castle."

Kylan blushed. "Alas, perhaps one of my finest moments as a team player may also be one of my most indignant."

"Poor skekLi may relate," urVa thought out loud.

"skekLi… is he another skeksis?" Kylan looked over his shoulder but found urVa not there. urVa now stood on the opposite side of the little fire, nose pointed up to the sky, with his rear pair of hands pressed to the earth. His upper pair rested on his walking stick.

"How – when did you...?!" Kylan pointed to where urVa just was and where he stood now.

urVa did not answer, apparently listening to something else. "It is time I am off. My part of the chorus has ended for now."

"You…. You're leaving? But what about Naia, Gurjin, and Rian? What about Tavra and…," he noticed urVa had collected all his possessions save for a few goods wrapped in leaves, the pan over the fire, and a ladle. "… your spoon?"

urVa paused in what almost looked like serious consideration. Almost. "Yes, the spoon. Very handy tool. You can cook?"

"Er, yes. I can cook a decent meal when I have the ingredients, but not much of a gatherer or hunter like Naia." As he spoke he took into consideration the other leaf-wrapped goods urVa was leaving behind, and all the other foresights he had demonstrated. Kylan noticed urVa smiling warmly at him again, despite the difficult questions earlier.

"A cook as well. Who would have known? I am glad to know I am leaving my trusty spoon in good hands. May you fend off hunger and feisty critters till your friends return."

"What about you? Are you leaving yourself anything?"

urVa was ambling off now. "I'll gather myself something to eat. I'm fancying some nuts and Dyillorkin seeds. Will sup tonight."

"Will we see you again, urVa?" Kylan called out.

urVa paused. "We may. Even be it in a different form." He then called over his shoulder, "Tell a tale of how Kylan used his wisdom where strength failed. A friend more true than any arrow or crystal. A song teller who provides good food for thought, and good food for eating."

Kylan was almost knocked over by such insistence on self-recognition – urVa could rival Drenchen hard talk were he not so riddled in speech. "And what songs may I tell of urVa the Archer?"

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooOOOOOOSH! Kylan yelped as an arrow planted itself a little ways from him from almost directly above, or more accurately, from a tall arc. The arrow quivered in a manner that a stiff shaft should not, yet did, and produced a musical reverberation for it.

Kylan looked back to urVa in mixed awe and annoyance but found urVa was gone, like the forest had swallowed him with a soundless gulp.

Kylan sighed to himself. Taking a moment to admire the memento urVa left behind and cheek that Tavra was still alright, Kylan inspected the spoils left for him and his friends: mostly dried leaves, ground or chopped roots, one of which he recognized as merkeep, more spices, and some precious salts. Kylan considered again how much time it must have taken urVa to collect these, and then the hot water left for him in the metal pan over the fire. "Guess I'll make some broth."