Word of Mouth,

By Ealinesse

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DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of the Final Fantasy series - characters, items, ideas, nothing. I do not claim to. The only characters I do own, are Carlos and his cronies… Ugh, lucky me.

Summary: Three years after the fall of Sephiroth, Yuffie receives a cryptic letter from home that tells her all is not well in Wutai... But what does a certain Turk have to do with anything?

Warnings: Just a little angst, drama…

Category: action/adventure, slight humour? - (not a lot in this chapter though)

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Chapter Fourteen: To Take a Gamble...

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For lack of anything better to do, Reno kicked the door, glad that at least his heavy boots managed to make a satisfactory dent; they were steel-capped. He had tried looking around for things to break the door down with, but hadn't managed to find any single thing handy enough to help him. The doors were heavy oak, thick, and quite indestructible to only one man. Shake had been quite thorough, even as far as possible lock picks went. The room was strangely ornate, but bare of anything but the necessities; curtains, a chair, a bed, and a table. The only small ornaments were softer things, metallic items that would be of no use for him to do anything.

The Turk cursed his luck, and spared a look around the room before turning back to the rather stubborn door - or, more specifically, the lock that still held him in. His lockpick was in his bag - which was somewhere in the pagoda, where he'd left it at the last meeting, most likely. He hadn't anything on him that would help his current situation. If he had of been on the first, second, or even third floor, he would have climbed out of the window and snuck past the guards again, but he was on the northernmost side of the structure, where the architecture was both beautiful and sharply angled; a hazard for anyone. Personally, that was one less risk that he was willing to take.

Reno swore, and shook his head, turning to the window. The reasonably calm morning had turned a lot darker, and heavy grey clouds were hanging thickly overhead, clustered in a syrupy haze. Yes, Shake most definitely had been thorough, which gave Reno all the more reason to be pissed off. He should have seen it coming. He should have noticed, like he said he would.

A beep sounded in the accumulated silence, and Reno nearly jumped... nearly. He looked at his watch, where the sound had originated, and ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he realised what time it was. The meeting had just begun, and he was going to miss it because of that stubborn little ass.

"Shit!" He kicked the door again, his boot making a tiny indent parallel to the other one of moments before. A small flake splintered off the door, and so, unsatisfied, Reno sat down on the bed, brooding. He had been in this room for only five minutes, and already his pent-up anger was getting to him. If Rude or Elena had been here, he would have been told to shut up, to be calmer, to think about a solution. But they weren't here, and he was stuck in this goddamned room with nothing but what he had on him...

Which was quite considerably less than what he would have had if he had his bag with him. He had even sacked his gun, thinking himself safe in this place. But his luck never worked well when he assumed...

Reno fell back onto the soft mattress and lay there for a few minutes - his first welcome blessing for the lengthening day - and closed his eyes, trying to calm his buzzing mind. It didn't work; he was too busy thinking about that note, and what it had implied. It was true, that technically, when it all came down to it, he was in this room for his own good, whether Shake realised it or not. Ultimately, if he were looking to save his own ass, then it would be of his own advantage for him to stay. But, the Turk realised, he never did anything that was good for him, and, over the past three years, accomplishing the mission rather than saving himself had sustained a lot more importance.

He sat back up, cursed his laziness, and proceeded to glare at the door, as if trying to make it open under its own accord. It didn't, of course, but just that little bit more of his anger faded, and he let his shoulders sag a little. Some of his tenseness was lost, and some past words of Tseng's floated into his thoughts.

He smirked, realizing how ironic it was that he was finally listening to Tseng's advice now that he was gone, not realizing how much he'd come to mean to all of them, and not wanting to openly admit it, either. That he had respected him, he supposed, was enough.

Reno shrugged off such thoughts, and, calmer, he took a deciding look around the room, trying to find something that would help his current situation. The lock was a simple one, but strong. If he had the right tool, he'd be able to break it - maybe. On the bed, there was nothing, it had no bedhead, and no decoration; just a duvet and sheets. The table was as bare, as was the wooden chair. The heavy curtains would be of no use to him, and nor would any of the roof's, or wall hangings.

The Turk sighed, and suppressed a shiver as the open window made the draperies billow and gust with the wind. He was about to look down, when something caught his eye, and a sudden feral grin lit up his face. He stood, and made his way over to the curtains, peering up at the rails they were hanging on, and realised that even he would need a table or something as tall to stand on just to see if his idea would work.

So, with that in mind, the Turk hauled the table under the window, and carefully examined the pieces that made up the railings. The tiny, pinpointed brackets that were evenly spaced along the tracking were perfect for him to use as a lockpick. He pulled at the curtain rail, hoping he wouldn't break the small objects he needed in detaching it from its position on the wall.

"Come on, baby... prove that shortass wrong..." he whispered under his breath as he tried to wrest the large pole free from the wall, not caring about the damage he caused as a sudden crunching noise indicated that the timber wall was giving way to the metal pole. It all came free with a shudder, and suddenly weighed down with the pressure of something both volumous and awkward to carry, Reno tumbled back onto the soft bed, feeling the brief moment of pain as the heavy rod landed with a solid thunk on his chest.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, pushing the item off him, struggling his way free of the tangled material. He stood, and let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding; the metal brackets were bent, but still intact.

Retrieving the smaller items from the wall was a lot easier, as the screws holding them into the timber studs had loosened under his exerted pressure. All three of them came free with minimal effort, giving Reno more than enough opportunity to free himself. He headed over to the door, knelt, and squinted through the minute keyhole. Looking down at the pile of metal scrap he'd managed to accumulate, he picked one that was of a size small enough to fit into the hole, with room to spare.

Biting his lip, he unbent it, and wiggled it around in the small area, mentally crossing his fingers as he hoped it wouldn't break. It did. As did the second one. As he picked up the third, he cursed, realizing his opportunities were quickly getting sucked out of the proverbial window. He placed it more carefully in the keyhole, and clenched his teeth together as he put only a small amount of pressure on it.

"Don't you dare," he threatened as he felt it about to bend. And, as if listening and shivering at his very words, it didn't. A soft click shushed the silence, and a look of imminent satisfaction lit up Reno's face. He stood, pushed the door open, and stepped out of the room. He pocketed the small, metallic item, and faced the room he'd wrecked - the second trashed one he'd been in that day. It was no longer first class.

On impulse, he left a hasty note to his would-be captor, and smirked.

"So much for bad luck always coming in threes," Reno said as he sped down the hallway, realizing just under ten minutes had passed since the deadline for the meeting.

* * * * *

Yuffie glared at the clock hanging above the door in one of their smaller conference rooms. Reno was late - by at least five minutes. She turned to her two aides, who had arrived long ago, and sighed. She hadn't exactly expected him to come, but it was selfish of him not to. He'd agreed to come, and the fact that even though she didn't know him that well in the first place, did nothing to minimize her hurt of his betrayal. This was her father's life they were trying to save. If he went out and got himself killed, then...

"I told you he wouldn't turn up, didn't I Staniv? The Shinra are of no use to us!"

"Yuffie?"

The first voice was predictably Shake's, hotheaded and brash. The second's was Staniv's. Cool, collected as usual, but with a stern edge in his voice that belied his very _expression.

She turned, nodded, sighed again. She spared but a backward glance at the door as she closed her eyes, hoping against hope that Reno knew what he was doing. "I guess we should start - though the reason for this meeting is mainly gone."

* * * * *

Reno scowled. He had no idea where he was going. The extended pagoda was huge, and everywhere he turned, there was another door, connected to yet another empty room. He realised he essentially had no hope in hell of finding exactly what he was looking for in the next few minutes, he was at least sure of that. He'd searched the first and second floors, as well as some of the smaller off-buildings, but no matter where he turned, he couldn't find the three ninja anywhere. After a somewhat wary glance at his watch, the Turk winced, and proceeded to try another door - the meeting room where they'd been earlier. His bag wasn't there.

Reno swore, and narrowed his eyes, remembering what Shake had said earlier about a different conference room. Any hope of him finding out just what the hell else was happening was extinguished as, after another two floors, and countless doors, he gave up.

He turned and remembered the courtyard Tseng had always told him about - it was something he'd never really seen. It was the same with the temple where the god Leviathon was said to rest. So, with very little aim, he headed outside, and sat down on one of the outside terraces; he supposed they'd find him there sooner or later. And besides, the possibilities of him playing hide and seek with them on their own property - especially Shake's - were interesting. Business aside, he liked nothing more than causing people to fret under their own property.

* * * * *

Yuffie frowned, and turned to leave the room, fingering the bag she'd picked up earlier with a pensive frown on her face. The meeting had finished well over ten minutes ago, and still she stayed in the room. About two minutes earlier, her aides had left for other business, and so here she was, alone, wandering down the hallways of her own house with no one to talk to.

Her frown deepened. She had seen the look of annoyance quite clearly on Shake's face during the meeting; had picked up on Staniv's mild disturbance, but only one of the men had actually said anything; Shake. He had been openly angry, and quite smug in the fact that he had been right after all - that Reno hadn't arrived, and had shown them all down.

The ninja pressed back her disappointment, and headed down the stairs, and toward the temple. She ignored any thoughts of the possibility that by going uptown; Reno had gotten himself into more danger than good - as well as her father. She hoped he wasn't that stupid, but instantly knew she was counting on too much. From what little she knew of Reno, she could tell that he was generally unpredictable.

As she reached the end of the hallway, Yuffie was met with a set of empty stairs, followed by an empty corridor, and an empty lobby. At the top landing, before she was set to walk down, the brunette ninja closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. She was plagued by options, but nowhere to really go. She felt herself suddenly anxious to hear from Carlos, whatever the news. There was always the possibility that Reno had gotten himself into more trouble. He had gone into the city, hadn't he?

A sudden repetitive thumping accosted Yuffie's ears, and she instantly recognized the sound of approaching footsteps. Grasping the shuriken that was attached at her waist, the ninja readied herself for the possibility that something was happening. She was right, of course, but she hadn't needed her weapon.

"Miss Yuffie! Miss Yuffie, come quick!" yelled the small servant who had attached himself to her arm and had begun pulling her forcefully down the stairs. "Come quickly!"

Wrenching her hands free from the boy, Yuffie narrowed her hazel eyes as a feeling of dread washed over her.

"What is it? Tell me now."

"I c-can't. Master Staniv said to get you right away, and to tell you to hurry."

"Is there another note?"

Yuffie didn't even need to see the boy nod to know the truth, and she raced down the stairs three at a time, a dire sense of urgency propelling her every step. True, perhaps the answers she'd been seeking had come when she'd asked, but was she ready for them?

* * * * *

Yuffie skidded around the corner closest to Staniv's quarters and nearly slid into the solid wall as she struggled to gain her balance and move further. Any attempts she had made, however, to make any further steps forward were halted as a conversing Shake and Staniv exited the visible doorway. She forced herself onward, though, but with less vibrancy as their conversation halted upon her arrival. The facial expressions of the two men were grim, and sober. Shake's eyes looked glassy, and at what, Yuffie could only guess.

She didn't have to.

"There was another one," was all Staniv said as he held out a small sliver of paper. There was little animation in either his facial cast, or his voice, or actions as he made the movement. His grey eyes, usually vibrant with wisdom, offered her nothing but proof of his own action, and knowledge. For once, she realised, perhaps he was paying the price for such information - especially the price of knowing before her.

With the utmost reluctance, Yuffie forced her wooden fingers to move - to pry open the news that she had only before wanted to know about. She had no wish to know now. Anything the note could have possibly told her was etched into her aides expressions. She had to expect the worst, but it was by no means what she wanted...

"You messed up, and now your friend and your father have paid the price. Lead on, oh ruler, lead on..."

"But... he said... he..." It took her a second to fully react. In seconds, she had turned, and fled, the half-formed protests lost eternally on the tip of her tongue.

She darted back up the stairs to her room, and slammed the door. After what seemed like a second thought, she locked it, and fell back onto her bed. She lay there for a long time, ignoring whatever thoughts she could. Voices rang like the echo of iridescent church bells through her head; flitting images of past conversations, memories, and images of laughter and happiness were laid out, jumbled into a confused haze before her. She tried to ignore all of them, but she could not hold back the two strongest images of the lives lost, even with her eyes closed.

Tears she had previously fought hard to hold back fell from her eyes in streaming rivulets of pain, and as she whispered her father's name under her breath even as she crumpled the tightly-clasped paper in her white-knuckled fist.

A sudden knock sounded behind her, and she covered her ears, even though the known voice was somewhat of a comfort to her ears. In her pain, she blocked out everything, eventually even the face of Reno, and her father.

Would the pain of loss still be there if there were nothing there to remember...?

* * * * *

Staniv stood by the door to Yuffie's room with Staniv, his _expression drawn into a tumultuous frown of confusion, worry, grief, and fear. Next to him, Staniv was quite, pensive, and uncertain - a trait that the shorter aide hadn't even resided in him until now.

As he watched the older man, Shake winced, realizing how deep he'd figuratively buried himself. Staniv's hand was poised indecisively apart from the heavy door. His lips were drawn into a thin line, and though his eyes shone with tears for his theoretically lost master, he fought them back, unwilling to demonstrate his grief until he had dealt with all of his duties.

Mentally, Shake cursed himself as he pulled nervously at the seams to his council robes. He had wanted to - and still did want to - say to the both of them that it couldn't possibly be true that Godo was dead; that it wasn't at all logical, or actual in a real state of mind for Reno to be gone as well. He wanted to just spit out that he'd locked the Turk away for more than just preventative measures... but he couldn't, and even now, he himself wasn't so sure.

Was Reno still there? He couldn't have possible escaped, could he?

But then Shake thought about the latest note, and realised that it was entirely possible.

"Staniv-"

But the older aide simply shook his lowered head. He turned away from the door, and began to leave. "Let her grieve, Master Shake," he said, before rounding the corner. "You only ever have one father."

"But-"

"Now is not the time for words. We will talk later. Yuffie will come out of her room when she is ready. We needn't worry about anything but her safety right now."

Shake headed out of the room, unsure of how to resolve his current predicament. At the moment, nothing was shocking him, and he was more than beginning to regret his decision to mess with the man from Shinra.

Was, or would Godo still be alive if he hadn't messed with Reno?

Would everything still turn out okay?

Now he wasn't so sure...

* * * * *

Staniv was starting to have doubts about ever talking to Yuffie 'later'. After eight hours, she still had not come out of her room. Normally, he would have had no problem walking into her room, or even confronting her, but these circumstances, again, were far from the norm.

He took off his traditional cap, and closed his eyes for a brief second, allowing his sleep-deprived mind a temporary rest from the unpleasant storm of decisions he knew lay straight ahead. A cool breeze drifted lazily along the corridor outside Yuffie's room, and rushed past him, tickling his lengthening hair. He allowed his breath wanton control for only a second, before he slid back into the guard's chair outside her door, and ran through a few counts to calm his mind. He allowed his head to fall back against the wall, and he relished the chilly feel of the walls against the back of his neck. His eyes slid closed, and the firm line of his mouth softened into something akin to neutrality.

'So many decisions, and no time to make any of them...'

He really did only mean to rest for a second...

A sudden noise from inside his charge's room evoked him from his unintentionally meditative state. With the dissonance came his tortured thoughts, and his need to make a spur of the moment decision. The next thing he realised was that he was on his feet instantly, chastising himself for being so slack as to ignore Wutai's needs over his own.

As his hand had before, he paused before knocking, but a gentle beep from his pocket watch reminded him sorely of Wutai's need for a ruler. As of now, there was no time to grieve. The time had passed. The best thing for now was to move forward...

"So why can't I take her away from her grief?" he whispered, shaking his head ruefully.

But in truth, he knew the answer. The way this was happening was all wrong. They needed to get over their grief, not thwart it by merely hiding it away for a rainy day. He knew that Godo's loss had only fully hit one of them, so far, and that one was all that Wutai needed.

"Yuffie?" Staniv called, his voice resigned to what he had to do. "Miss Yuffie? We need to talk."

She didn't answer. She never did when something happened - and this instance was a lot different, and more serious. He knew she wouldn't open the door, and when his assumptions became controlled by fear, his eyes widened. A sense of urgency filled him, as well as one of formidable apprehension.

He made a hasty decision, stepped forward, and knocked loudly. "Yuffie! Open up this door!"

There was no reply, but then again, he hadn't truly expected one. Or had he?

Confused, Staniv turned, and paused, unsure. Perhaps he would come back later, when he was surer of himself.

* * * * *

Shake arrived hastily at the room where he'd locked Reno after reading the note from Carlos. As he unconsciously reached for the door handle, his fingers found nothing but empty air, and he looked down. Curiously, he looked at the key in his hand – consequently the only one to the room in existence – and the open door. He blinked.

"What…"

A cold arena of fear caused a terrifying stampede at the base of his stomach, and he winced, closing his eyes in hopes of finding the Turk inside…

As he stepped into the room, however, he realised how useless such thoughts were. Reno had been thorough, there was no doubt about it. The curtains were on the ground, in utter disarray; they hung limp and creased, discarded in a useless pile. The brackets to hold the heavy draperies were gone, all that remained of them were tiny voids of emptiness in the solid timber. The railing lay rigid and barren on the floor, quite obviously bent in half. The weak metal around the lock to the door was scratched and scathed; it had been picked.

For the first time since he'd taken his oaths as one of the Five Masters, Shake swore. Loud.

He was about to leave the room when something on the bed caught his eye. He cocked his head, and stalked over to the crumpled sheet of paper. With a confused glance, Shake looked around before reading the note, and felt a sudden anger burn red-hot inside him. His fury at the redheaded man peaked, but a feeling of elation also accompanied those murderous thoughts. Reno was alive, and here… did that not bode well for Godo, no matter what Carlos had said?

Before anyone else could recognize the absent Turk, Shake sped off, but not before stopping in the hallway and taking a quick, nervous glance around. He saw no one. His hands, shaking in fury at the foolish redheaded man, placed the item in his shallow pockets. He was too focused on his rage to notice it fall to the ground in the hallway, after teetering briefly on the brink of the thin material.

He stalked away, his footfalls heavy despite his soft slippers on the wooden floor. Not for the first time he realised how badly he'd messed this one up.

He only hoped he could fix it all before it was too late…

* * * * *

Staniv watched Shake with wary eyes as the short man paced furiously down the corridor. Tucked away into an introverted doorway, his confusion and quiet anger at Reno's lack of appearance hours before was suddenly forgotten. Why hadn't Shake noticed him? Staniv felt a frown crease his weathered forehead as the man stalked off. Whatever his cause for aggravation had been, it had obviously destroyed his usually painfully acute senses to the point that he'd blocked out everything around him... including one of his own.

A moment of confusion stunted Staniv's thoughts as he wondered what could possibly have riled him up. Was he, too, grieving for Godo in his own way... or was it something else?

He moved to where Shake had been beforehand, and clasped his hands together. Something crunched underfoot, and a small piece of paper he hadn't previously noticed appeared before him. He narrowed his cloudy grey eyes at the sight, and picked it up, ignoring the creaking of his aging bones. Bemused by such a small thing, the aide cast a quick, but wary glance around him, hoping no one else had seen Shake's previous behavior. He debated giving the note straight back to the other man without so much as peering briefly at it, but before he could tear his eyes away, an eerily familiar word caught his eye. Or, more correctly, an eerily familiar name.

"What... Reno?" he asked to no one in particular.

With sudden curiosity, Staniv drew in a deep breath, and blew it out again, feeling the growing lengths of his hair stream against his forehead. The tickling that proceeded to cause an annoying itch did not deter him in the slightest from unwrapping the small sheet of paper.

'Next time, be more thorough about what you leave lying around... I'm not that unresourceful. I'll see you around here... keep an eye out for me - wouldn't want your peers or Yuff to find out about that little incident, now, would you...?

Didn't think so. Better find me, fast.

~Reno'

If possible Staniv became more confused than he had been before. This note contained no logic... not unless the two had met beforehand. Which they hadn't... or had they?

Had the two had contact outside of the meeting? Even just before the meeting? What did Reno mean by 'be more careful what you leave lying around?

Despite his uncertainties and distinct squall of questions, Staniv was relieved to come to an instant conclusion. If Shake had done something wrong, his guilt would eventually come out. If he prompted him into doing or saying something before he was ready for it, it would only lead to eventual anger.

But what would Shake have to do with Reno? He seemed to be more concerned with keeping Reno away from them all...

The barest bones of an idea fluttered just out of his reach, and Staniv shook his head. There was something he was missing... and he wasn't quite sure what it was. But at the moment, the least he could do was try to talk to Yuffie again - or at least, sit outside her door and wait until she was ready to deal with other people. At least then he would be the first to meet with her. Perhaps she would have some answers... Staniv sighed, and placed the note into one of his inside pockets for later. If it wasn't one thing, then it was always another...

Maybe it was the Five Gods' way of telling him not to dredge up the past... even the most recent memories of sadness, inner turmoil and confusion...

With a resolve he did not feel, he left the area, head up, shoulders back, jaw square. If he couldn't do anything about one person, he could at least do the only part of his duty that presently came to mind.

But ultimately, one question still remained…

If chances were that Reno was still alive, then was Godo truly dead?

It seemed that even for a weathered warrior, hope sprung eternal…

* * * * *

Yuffie didn't know how long she'd been sitting under her window, her father's music box in her hands, but she was sure it came down to hours, not mere minutes. Time had passed in a blur for her. Whether she wanted them to or not, her memories were evoked by the soft notes that rose from the tiny speakers, but the music no longer soothed her the way it had before. But no matter what she tried, she could not stop her numb fingers from rewinding the small dial each time the music stopped, even though the memories brought her nothing but remembrance of her loss. It was a strange addiction. She so badly wanted to let go, yet she couldn't…

Not yet.

She tipped her head back against the cool windowsill, and felt her hair rustle in the breeze. She idly wondered when the window had been opened, but quelled the thought as she shivered, and merely stood to close it, heading over to her bed instead and pulling up her thick quilt she'd received from Shera the Christmas before.

AVALANCHE, her other family…

She closed her eyes, and fought to hold back another sob, which bubbled in the back of her throat. Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed a hiccup. She shivered again, and frowned, turning to the window.

It was open again, and something light and thin was drifting inside.

In the dim lighting she couldn't see what it was, but her intuition told her even before she thought about it. The streetlights and her lamp illuminated the dull item, and she gathered up the wafer-thin object as it floated toward her. A wave of anger washed over her, and she felt herself wanting to give in to the power that it promised. She considered not opening the folded item, but she wanted any news she could get.

When she read it, she was not disappointed.

"Want revenge, leader? Showdown. Now. Come alone…" She read aloud the only seven words on the page with more venom in her voice than she knew she could ever hold.

On impulse, she obeyed. She gathered her shuriken, and clipped a random status protection armlet on. Gathering her cloak from the hall tree, she slipped it on, feeling it rustle against her legs as it billowed in the icy wind. It felt like rain. Lastly, with a little consideration, she retrieved an item from Reno's bag, which sat neglected on her table. She stuffed the small, warm item down her bra, and covered it by stretching her cloak and her tee shirt.

If he was allowed to break the rules, then she was, too. He just didn't know it yet.

She slipped out her window, and avoided the public eye.

She knew she was probably being stupid, and she knew she probably should have told Staniv…

But this was her father they'd messed with.

This was her chance.

* * * * *

For Staniv, everything was going reasonably well. He'd left the outside of Yuffie's room earlier, and even though she hadn't let him in, he was at least assured that she was inside – her muffled sobbing could be heard even through the heavy doors, as well as the sound of the music box her father had given her for her birthday years ago. He'd left her chambers about an hour ago, and it was now well past seven. Gorki had called him back to take care of some tasks while he surveyed the town for sights of Carlos; they would have hunted him down to his exact location, but it came down to the fact that Yuffie had all of the notes, and they couldn't remember the man's exact location. But that didn't matter – they were on his trail.

Either way, it was all going according to plan.

But those thoughts were long gone, he realised, as he watched a small servant slip into his office with a flake of paper. His eyes narrowed, and wordlessly, the servant left after handing the item to him. Expecting word from Gorki about his surveillance of the marketplace, he opened it, unthinking.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

"Who are you keeping an eye on more, servant. Her, or me? … Are you sure you still know where she is?"

He hadn't run faster in his life.

* * * * *

Author's Notes: Heh… A week. Sorry! I'm secretary to our school Social Committee, and our Formal is in just under a month. There's been so much organizing going on, it's not funny! … But enough of that. Those aren't really valid excuses, now are they?

CelesteSpring: Eee…Thanks for the criticism. I do know that I have a thing for being a little wordy, but you just picked it right up, huh? Yeah, I'm tedious, and not very good at writing, but hey…. ~_^ I read some of your stuff the other day, and I can see why you were picking at mine You write so figuratively! Unfortunately I got cut off halfway through one of them because my brother wanted the computer. Ugh. It wasn't like he was doing anything important – he was only playing Dragon Ball Z… *rolls eyes* But I will read them when I get the time… I added them to my Fave's list for future reading… on second thoughts… maybe I should just delete his game^_^

The Wanderer: I hope you weren't *really* checking it everyday? My update was a little more than a week overdue… Ah well, bet you're surprised that I actually did update, huh? I am a little inconsistent at the best of times. :S

Rose Flame: Builders? Intelligent? …HA! Good One. They ran over Mum's new plants the other day in the digger…now is that smart or what? Really, I bet in the end they'll have destroyed more than they've built. Yeah… so much for said timeframe, huh? No excuses, though, just utter procrastination. Just like my Art, and Geography, and English, and Social Committee stuff… (but hey, whose counting? ~_^) Hehe.

Arcander: Thanks! Hope you actually could wait, because it sure took a while…!!!