13 Miracle (Wolf & Duna, prompt from day 24)
a/n: Wolf and Duna spot something important.
All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, except this camp full of Prone.
The location of the enemy encampment was a brilliant choice. A single narrow path in, watched by two guards. Broad lava pools on the rest of perimeter, with a heavy infestation of large and irritable indigen that would slow incoming skells. The walls of O'rrh Sim Castle rose smooth behind the narrowest pool, broken and inaccessible at the distant heights. No one was coming to cause trouble from the ground or the air. No one, except a singe figure quietly wading through the lava pools and hoping like anything that he was small enough not to trigger the ire of a dozing lava fish.
As soon as he could, Wolf hugged the castle walls, taking advantage of a submerged ledge that prevented the need for dog paddling in lava. Sakuraba made sweet augments but there had to be a limit. He was aiming for what was clearly the back side of the camp, the place where unneeded supplies and garbage collected. He reached a chunk of collapsed balustrade that rose from the lava and ducked behind it, hoping that no further architectural decay happened for the next few minutes. From this angle, the few crude shelters blocked a full view of the camp. Wolf had to be patient.
He also need to wait for the even smaller, even quieter figure to catch up to him. Duna crouched in his shadow a few moments later.
"You were supposed to stay with your people," he growled quietly.
"I am," she whispered back.
"Tria?"
"On her way to the group. Do you see her?"
He didn't need to answer. A woman stepped from one of the shelters, carrying a stack of bowls in one arm and balancing a large tray on her hip. The camp was having its version of a late lunch. Blue and clearly tired, she paused for a moment, then straightened herself and fluttered her tentacles into a playful expression before presumably moving to serve the guards.
Wolf tried to figure the best move. There was no way to carry the prisoner safely across the lava, so he'd have to punch an escape route through the camp. He hated to admit it, but having Duna with him made it possible. Instead of having to protect the hostage all the way out, he could send the two woman ahead of him.
Wolf pointed to the woman. "Mekra?" They saw her darting around the camp, back and forth. The pile of bowls had diminished. Wolf had counted at the start. Five guards, unless the watch duty weren't eating, in which case seven. He hoped the captors didn't chose to delay their meals.
"I cannot tell, but maybe. I think so."
"Okay. We get up on the ground there, behind the cook house. When she comes back, you call to her and get her to you. Quietly. Clamp a hand on her mouth if necessary."
"I know how to keep my people quiet."
"Once she's with you, I'm going to have to start another fight. A big one. Get her out and to the skells and do not stop."
"No."
"Who's the team leader?" Duna was silent, staring at the camp. Wolf continued, "I'll catch up. If I don't, you know what ..."
Duna grabbed his arm so tightly that he winced. Her eyes were fixed on the camp, and her tentacles were flickering wildly. Wolf followed her gaze.
Another Prone had exited the cooking tent. Not another woman, not a guard. It was a small child, very young. It wouldn't have come up much above Wolf's knee. Crudely clothed in only a scrap of rags, it toddled behind the woman with a bowl in its tiny hands. It disappeared for a moment, but then they heard shouts, and what might be the sound of blows, the shriller voice of the female prisoner telling the child to make himself scarce. Mekra appeared, pushing the little one none too gently toward the cook house. The child skipped uncertainly for a moment, then settled behind the trash heap, hidden from the greater camp but in perfect view of Wolf and Duna. The child played with the empty bowl for a moment, rolling it along the dirt, then set it right side up and began to scoop imaginary food from it with his hands.
He was grey like the Cavern guards, but the edges of his skull shone with traces of pale blue.
Wolf dared to think something, same as he was sure Duna was thinking. That spectral blue matched the color of their eerie visitor on the Ma-non ship.
a/n: That's why.
Next up: Preparations, or I'll just cheese some prompt stuff. Honestly, this is becoming Wolf&Dunatober.