Disclaimer: Valdemar and concepts belong to Mercedes Lackey; characters belong to their creators; this fic and AU belong to their author.

Character Notes: Healer Erlyn belongs to etcetera-cat, who seriously did an awesome job filling out the Collegia in this AU lol.

IN DREAMS
Chapter Six: Borderline Angel
By Senashenta

"Cheyne—"

:What?:

"We need to stop."

:No.:

"You're about to fall over."

:I'm fine.:

"No, you're—"

:Dragan!: Cheyne's ears snapped back and her voice made him wince, then she softened and her stride broke as she half-stumbled to a stop, her hooves scraping along the cobblestone road that they had reached candlemarks before. :I'm sorry, I shouldn't be shouting but… I just want to put as much distance between us and the forest as possible.:

Dragan shook his head, "it's okay, I'm just saying… you're tired, you know? You're a Companion, but you still need to rest—you've been running for hours! We can stop and take a break, and then keep on going."

:Chosen…:

"We don't even have to stop for long! We can just take five minutes and then head out, but if we don't stop you'll probably pass out while I'm on your back," he added after a moment of thought, "and then you'll fall on me and I'll be crushed." He seemed to be getting into the half-joking groove, and gave a laugh, "so you really want that? A crushed firestarter?"

:Haven forbid.: Cheyne sighed, then nodded reluctantly. :I suppose you're right.:

"Good." Dragan groaned, "because I think I need a rest as much as you do—I had no idea riding bareback was so hard!" She snorted softly, and he paused, looking around, "seems to me there's a Waystation around here somewhere… assuming we are where I think we are."

:Assuming?:

"Well, I kind of lost track. Trees all look the same when you're moving so fast they're blurred together."

:I see.:

He shrugged, "I know you don't want to spend the night out in the woods, but we're away from the Pelagiris, so…" she twitched and seemed about to say something, and he continued before she could say a word: "we're on a real road now, at least, right? So keep going. I think we're bordering on Hevenbeck, and even if we're not exactly where I think we are, we're bound to find something."

:My Chosen the Eternal Optimist.:

"I try."

Cheyne made a sniffing sound and started forward once more, this time at a sedate walk. On her back, Dragan was pleased that he had managed to get through to her—he had been trying for a while, but her panic had completely drowned out his words and she had continued, heedless of his warnings.

Now she was dripping lather and breathing heavily, and even if she wouldn't admit it, he could feel her legs shaking with every step.

He hadn't been joking—if she hadn't stopped, she probably would have fallen over.

And he couldn't help but wonder what could possibly frighten her that much, Of course, he had seen the attack but he still had no idea what, really, was going on. The only thing he knew for sure was that Cheyne's life had been in danger. If those things, whatever they were, had managed to get a hold on her…

So what the hell were they, anyway..?

o-o-o-o-o

"Okay, you go first."

Bri was silent for a moment, then dropped into her bed with a heaved sigh (which actually bordered on a groan) and flung her arms to the sides as she pondered exactly what she was going to tell her.

To say that she was happy to see Jemeste was an understatement of the most obvious kind. The other girl had been a good friend and roommate of hers for nearly two years, and then had just vanished.Bri had come back to the room after her shift and Jemeste's bed had been occupied by someone else. When she'd asked about her friend's disappearance all she'd received was a smack for her trouble.

And now, to find her in Haven at the Collegium…

"Well, I guess I'm here because I'm going to be a Herald."

Jemeste looked confused, "but you're not a Trainee—"

"I know." Bri agreed dryly, "but try telling that to the glorified palfrey out there in the Field."

"But—"

"Look, I'm stuck here for now so I'm going to try to make the best of it." She forced a grin, but then continued with interested that didn't have to be feigned: "but Jemeste, you… how in the world did you get here of all places? No one would tell me what happened to you when you left! You were just gone one day."

The other girl smiled softly and tugged at the hem of her uniform, which was a dark shade of blue and bore an unfamiliar crest on one arm. "The day that I left… do you remember, when we got ready for our shifts that day, and the Master brought me to the man who was wearing the red wool cloak?"

Bri nodded. She did recall vaguely, but didn't really remember much besides the cloak itself and the fact that he had been relatively tall. Of course, Jemeste didn't expect her to remember him completely—one customer blurred into another when you had a quota to make every night.

"He was… unpleasant." Jemeste made a face, "he took me off to his room at the inn—not our "inn" but the actual inn—and afterward, he got violent." When Bri gave her a questioning look, she shook her head, "I really don't know why—but you know sometimes people are just like that."

Bri couldn't see where Jemeste was going with her explanation. How could a violent patron be the cause for her ending up in Haven, working at the Palace? Still, there had to be a reason for her current job, so Bri kept her mouth shut to let the other girl finish.

:Good choice.:

Go away.

"—he had been knocking me around for a couple of minutes, but I hadn't done anything yet... I'd had it happen to me before, but they always calmed down, so I guess I was hoping that he would get it out of his system and leave me alone." She bit her lip for a second, frowning, "but he didn't. He just kept at it—hitting me—until I couldn't help but make some noise. I suppose I was crying, but it's kind of a blur. Anyway, I must have screamed or something, because the next thing I knew the door flew open and he was there."

"Uh, he—?"

"Herald Jestel." Jemeste clarified, a suspiciously giddy tone to her voice, "he had been down in the tavern under the inn. Hesharte was outside, and when I screamed she heard me and got him to go check on me."

She seemed to be doing nothing but asking questions. "Who's Hesharte?"

"Jestel's Companion. She's very nice. It's because of her that Jestel came and rescued me, and he was so nice to me, you know? I wasn't used to it, being a brothel girl… he made sure I was dressed and saw a Healer, and got me something to eat and drink, and before I knew it I was sitting down in the tavern telling him my life story." A sigh, "he ended up taking me back to Haven with him. Said he couldn't leave me there to work for the Master anymore… I kind of appointed myself as his servant, and I've been here ever since."

It was strange, really, to see Jemeste so happy. She had been quiet and reserved when Bri had known her before, and now… she was still quiet, but she was healthy and very obviously enjoying her life.

I wonder if I could ever be like that… just… happy.

:Some day.: Lyntar told her softly, much to her annoyance, :some day you'll be happy. You'll be a Herald, you'll be happy, and you'll be able to go back to that "inn" and do for the rest of the girls what Jestel did for Jemeste.:

Bri didn't even bother to tell him to bug off, as he seemed to have no interest whatsoever in doing it. Every time she shoved him away he just came back. Like a puppy following her home, and it was more than a little aggravating. A puppy would have been less trouble… and a hell of a lot quieter, too.

:Puppies make messes on the rug.: The stallion pointed out, :and I'm already completely housetrained.:

So what? Puppies didn't insist on yakking inside her brain all the time.

A moment of silence was followed by what almost felt like amusement, and Lyntar again faded from her thoughts. Angrily, Bri decided that the next time she saw him in person, she would have a chat with him about invading her personal space.

My mind is mine, damn it. Shaking her head, she managed a smile; "Herald Jestel sounds like a wonderful person."

"He is!" Jemeste exclaimed, and Bri could tell that he was her friend's favourite topic of discussion by the almost blinding twinkle in her eyes. "He's the nicest man I've ever met, which is why I won't let them make me a general servant… but when Jestel doesn't need me, I help Ellyn out around the Collegium. Which is why I'm here!" Seeming to remember her duties now, she held up the measuring chords she was carrying draped across one arm, "I need to take your measurements so that Ellyn can get uniforms made up for you."

"Uh, right."

She had forgotten, but now Jemeste quickly pulled her up from where she was sitting. And suddenly there was a whirlwind of movement while the other girl measured her in every possible way and scribbled down notes on a random piece of paper she had produced from who-knew-where.

So… I've been Chosen by an annoying white pony, dragged off to Haven, met the Princess without even realizing it, made into an example of everything you shouldn't do and be, made a fool of myself in front of the King himself, run into a long-lost friend, and now I'm being fitted for a uniform that resembles a blindingly radiant target.

Collegium life certainly was interesting.

o-o-o-o-o

Whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with him and Lyntar figured he might as well make the best of it. This abrupt change of tune came as a result of Rella's lectures (which actually resembled threats more) and reminders by both Arlam and Niressa that he did have a reason for Choosing her in the first place. And a damned good one at that.

So he was going to enjoy the fact that he was in Haven, as far away from the Elders as he was ever likely to get, and munch on the surprisingly tasty grass of Companion's Field in and around avoiding Yauvani and her cult of anti-Lyntar worshippers.

If he ever escaped from Bard Fradrick and his questions, that is.

"—but if it's true that Spirits are envoys from the Gods, then why are they allowed to get sick or die? Is the answer to that in any way related to why they live out in the Pelagiris in the first place? For that matter, do the Spirits out there get sick at all? Because I was thinking that maybe there's a correlation between the fact that Companions seem to be able to become ill and have young and the fact that they live in Haven and among humans. Do you think that it might be possible that—"

Lyntar didn't bother to point out that Spirits were born in the wild as often as they were born in Haven, if not more. That, he decided, would just give the man more ammunition and more to ramble about.

Bright Lady… I didn't think someone could talk like that and not pass out…

Fradrick had been talking in one long, drawn out sentence for some time, and Lyntar was not alone in wondering just when he managed to breathe. Indeed, Niressa and Arlam were staring openly at the Bard, who didn't seem to need (or even necessarily want) feedback from them. He appeared to be more than content to converse with thin air: probably as an excuse to go over this varied and numerous theories regarding the origin of Spirits and the differences between them and Companions.

What differences?

Across the Terilee, Aristides seemed to pick up on that thought, and snickered while trying to look innocent. He had been chortling away from the relative safety of Behind The River ever since Fradrick's arrival. :I did warn you.: He pointed out, :if you didn't make an immediate retreat, that's your fault and not mine.:

:Is he… always like this?: Arlam asked incredulously.

:Of course.: Ari sniffed, amused by his expression. :Fradrick there is the resident "expert" on all things Spirit-related. So naturally he makes it his business to confront each and every new arrival from the Pelagiris.: He paused then, and where silence would have reigned, Fradrick's voice continued to sound. :He's harmless, really, and quite lovable if you can get him to stop talking long enough to get a word in edgewise. I think he's lovemate to Healer Erlyn.:

:Havens!: Niressa gasped, :he actually lives with someone?:

At that, Ari gave a semi-surprised snort as he choked down laughter—and everyone turned to look at him, he attempted to pretend he was grazing, which only made his choking-giggling-snuffling all the more apparent.

Fradrick blinked, then shook his head and continued where he had left off.

:As I said,: Ari managed after a moment, :he's a nice fellow when he's not talking your ear off, and he's really only like this with new Spirits—or, Companions. Samara tells me that when he's with other humans he's a normal person. Or, as normal as anyone is around here.:

Lyntar sighed. :Why do I find that hard to believe?:

He supposed it was possible. Even in the Spirit community there were those who had things they were excited about. Sashara, before she had been taken, had been fascinated by the Tayledras and their Bondbirds and had spent a good amount of time searching them out so fulfill her curiosity.

Most likely, the Fradrick he was now confronted with was the one who couldn't wait to ask his questions and—possibly—get answers. The problem being that he didn't let anyone get a word into the conversation. If he was like this with Healer Erlyn then she had to be the most tolerant woman in Valdemar.

Maybe it's a good thing that Bri doesn't talk to me. He was beginning to consider becoming the Companion equivalent of a cloister priestess. Which I'm sure my Chosen would love, since I'd be locked up in a little brick room for the rest of my life…

It was about that time when he realized he was next thing to alone with Fradrick. Blinking, he looked around rather frantically until he managed to locate Arlam and Niressa, who had managed to nonchalantly drift off toward the stables, little-by-little. He glared at them for a moment, his eyes boring into first the other stallion's skull and then the mare's, while the Bard continued to ramble on and on and on and on—

:You!: Lyntar snapped, :some friends you are!:

Both of them gave him Innocent Eyes and proceeded to continue edging away, while Aristides broke down into hysterical equine-laughter from across the Terilee. The few Companions who were on the other side of the river with him watched with apparent confusion, and probably wondered if he had gone completely stark-raving mad.

:Terribly sorry, Lyntar.: Niressa apologized finally, but still turned, flicking her tail, and headed toward the stable with Arlam in tow, :but Gabriel and Mel are on their way outside, and I don't know about Arlam but I intend to bully my Chosen into a good grooming.:

:I've never been groomed before.: Arlam added, :but it sounds rather nice.:

:It does!: Niressa agreed, :just one of the many perks of living in Haven.:

:Along with the grass.:

:Yes, and the lack of Shadows.:

:That is definitely a perk.:

:I couldn't agree more.:

Lyntar continued to glare in their general direction for a few seconds, listening to them banter cheerfully, before heaving a sigh and turning back to Fradrick. The man had gone off on some tangent about the dietary differences between Spirits and Companions, and was waving a hand for emphasis—Lyntar noted with annoyance that several nearby Companions were giving him sympathetic looks.

He glanced back toward the stables, and the retreating forms of the other two. By the Gods above, they are going to pay for this…

o-o-o-o-o

There was a lot more to being a servant than Leshie had ever thought possible. Just from what Herald Quin was telling her, she was beginning to consider lobbying for servant's rights already. But, she had to admit, it sounded as if being a servant in the Collegium was about as good as you could get. She figured even if she worked harder than she had ever worked before that they would treat her well, and as long as she had a chance to talk with Gabriel or Quin occasionally, and take Aimee out for rides, she'd be relatively happy.

"If you need something to eat, just head down to the kitchen between duties and Arram will find you something. Unless you happen to be down around a meal time, it won't be hot, but there's always food available." Quin winked, an odd sight considering his scars, "around here we know how growing children need to eat, so we make sure to keep the kitchen pantries unlocked. The only stipulation is that you clean up after yourself, but that's just common courtesy."

Leshie nodded. "I would've anyway."

"Of course," he laughed, "you seem the kind to tidy up after yourself."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You'd be surprised, Leshie Hamlin, how many younglings take being here for granted and don't bother to keep their rooms tidy."

Not really, she wouldn't—a lot of her family was like that, and she had always felt sorry for the servants who had to keep the place looking neat and clean. They probably worked their fingers to the bone for the spoiled brats that she had to call siblings… and she was exaggerating, of course. There were only a few family members who were actually that bad. But they were her brothers and sisters, so it was only natural for her to criticize them.

Still, it wouldn't kill them to put their laundry in the chute instead of leaving it on the floor.

Two steps ahead of her, Quin reached a set of doors and pushed them open. "Through here is the courtyard for the General Trainees. You see? Each wing of the Collegium has its own courtyard, which houses the gardens and a few pretty footpaths. People can go there to relax—the walls block the rest of the world out, so it's a nice spot for a little escapism."

She was very glad that she had bumped into Quin, who, despite his haggard appearance, was actually very nice. If she hadn't met him, she probably would have spent the next ten years wandering the hallways, completely lost and with no way of getting out. But with Quin as a guide, she had managed to get a handle on the General Trainee's wing and the Heraldic Trainee's wing already.

"If we cut across this courtyard, we can skirt Companion's Field and I'll show you the salle and then the Herald's Wing." Quin explained as he stepped outside and waited for her to follow, "after that, I'll give you a quick run through Healers and Bardic, but you probably won't have to go over there all that much, so we won't stay long."

"Okay." Leshie agreed vaguely. She was inspecting the gardens avidly as they made their way through them. There were more flowers in the courtyard than she had ever known existed! "While we're outside, could we stop by the stables? I'd like to check on Aimee."

"Aimee?"

"My horse. I brought her with me to Haven, and I want to make sure she's alright."

Quin chuckled, "you don't have to worry about that, Leshie. Horses here are cared for by the very best. But I don't mind us stopping in for a minute. You can check on Aimee and I'll head over to the edge of the Field and bid good afternoon to my Companion, who was already whining at me for not coming to see her this morning."

:I wasn't whining because you didn't come and see me.: Naja commented, though Leshie couldn't hear her, :I was whining because it's been two days since you came out and groomed me. I swear, Quin, you love your sword more than you love me!:

:Not true, Skyeyes, I've just been busy.: He left the courtyard with Leshie in tow, and headed toward the stables with Naja rolling mental eyes in the back of his head. "Stables first, then, and the salle next."

"How long have you been a Herald?"

"Huh?" A blink, "where did that come from?"

Leshie shrugged, "I was just wondering… um, how did you get those scars on your face?"

There was a moment of silence as Quin considered, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled a bit as he grinned. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask that. Usually Littles stare and then demand to know what happened to me within minutes of meeting me."

"I'm not a Little." Leshie pointed out, then, "I'm just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Quin waved a hand, "no, it doesn't bother me. People are always so worried about hurting my feelings, but I've been over it for years." He sighed, "anyway, I got these scars during the Ignatius Uprising about seven years ago—"

"Yes, I remember it." She nodded, "sort of. I was very young when it happened, but some of my older brothers went off to fight. I didn't know there were Heralds involved in it, though…"

"Oh, there are Heralds poking around everywhere." He told her cheerfully as they reached the horse stables and ducked inside for Leshie to find Aimee, "I was down at the border leading a troupe of soldiers along with Herald Radley, and got into a scuffle with a couple of Karsites." He reached up to tap a finger against his cheekbone, "pitchforks scratch hard, you know."

Leshie couldn't help laughing, though she was sure the joke was half-hearted at best, then paused outside one of the stalls and reached out to pat the occupant's shoulder. "This is Aimee. She's the only thing I brought with me when I came here."

"Rakmour breeding." Quin noted as he looked at the mare, who seemed happy and comfortable, but was still wearing some road dust that Leshie hadn't had a chance to get off before, as well as a fleck or two of mud. "She's lovely... but she looks like she could use a good brushing."

In his mind, Naja snorted, sounding decidedly ticked off, and informed him quite calmly; :if you even think about grooming her when you haven't even groomed me, I will repudiate you without a second's hesitation.:

o-o-o-o-o

:So what do you think?: Niressa asked.

Gabriel frowned. The question had come out of the blue, and he wasn't quite sure what she meant by it. His hand faltered for a second, the currycomb pausing, and she glanced back at him curiously. "What do I think of what?"

:Wearing Heraldic-Trainee Grays, being Chosen, becoming a Herald…?:

"It's alright." He shrugged, "it's not all that different from being a General Trainee, except for you."

:And I'm worth all the suffering On Hunt?:

"I don't know…" Niressa flicked her tail at that, and it stung his arm sharply, making him yelp and mutter something under his breath. "You're cruel sometimes, you know."

:Only when you stop brushing. Come on, move that hand!:

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but continued with the comb, sharing a significant glance with Mel, who was in the next stall along with Arlam. "Anyway, what were you guys doing before?" She had sounded suspiciously happy when he'd said they were coming outside, "you were… enthusiastic."

Arlam made a coughing noise. :Well, we were… ambushed by someone and needed an excuse to get away.:

"Someone?"

:Bard Fradrick,: Niressa supplied. :He's scary.:

There was a second's pause, and then Gabriel began to snicker. He and Mel were newly-Chosen, yes, but they had been at the Collegium long enough to know about Fradrick and his little obsession. They could both just imagine him chasing the new arrivals around the Field, trailing reams and reams of notes.

:In any case,: the mare continued, :we left Lyntar to keep him occupied.:

"You left..?" Mel blinked, then; "you abandoned Lyntar with Fradrick? That's—that's cruel!"

:He can take care of himself.: Niressa sniffed. :He's capable.:

And Arlam added, :and handsome.:

Mel stared, and both Gabriel and Niressa turned to eye the stallion suspiciously. Arlam twitched, and when Mel gave a raised eyebrow, accompanying it by the mental equivalent, he sputtered defensively, :w-well he is! He'll get someone to help him out!:

The girl shook her head, raising a hand to rub her forehead with a sigh. "The only shaych Companion in Valdemar, and he had to Choose me…"

:Hey!: Arlam yelped, his mindvoice coloured brightly in embarrassment, :I am not!:

o-o-o-o-o

Cheyne was so exhausted she fell asleep within seconds of him sliding off her back, so he had to assume he had first watch. Normally, Heralds didn't have to worry much about rotating watch times with their Companions, but given the circumstances, Dragan didn't feel right having both of himself and Cheyne out cold at once: yes, they were at a Waystation and out of the Pelagiris, but he didn't want to take any chances.

I wonder… those things that attacked Cheyne… would they have hurt me, too? Or were just after her? His eyes were focused on the fire pit, which sat a goodly distance away from the Waystation itself. He'd managed to fumble with his newly-developing Gift enough to light a good fire in it, and now he watched the flames dance and spin and tried to figure out his situation.

His Companion was only a few feet away, standing with her knees locked and her head down. She was snoring a little, mentally, which Dragan had to admit was a fairly strange thing to feel inside his mind. But he wasn't about to wake her up and ask her to stop, since he figured if she didn't get a good dose of sleep she was going to fall into a coma. As it was she'd been too tired too even bother lying down, not that it was a big problem since she was distinctly horse-shaped.

Sleeping standing up must be strange. Dragan's eyes shifted to Cheyne and then back to the fire, and he pulled his knees up to rest his chin on them. …I wonder if she's dreaming. Probably about those things… whatever they were.

Something like that—he would have heard about it—them—wouldn't he? They would have warned his year group before sending them out on their Hunts. The shadowy things had been dangerous, that much was sure. So why hadn't his teachers told him about them, before he went traipsing through the forest?

Maybe they're only dangerous to Spirits.

There was a thought. They seemed to have only been after Cheyne, so maybe they only went after Spirits and left humans alone. So, if a Herald was to go through the Pelagiris, would they chance attacking a Companion, too? But… Cheyne was a Companion, since she had Chosen him, so he supposed it didn't make a difference. Maybe they were only after Companions, then?

This is confusing… I wish she'd just talk about it.

But the mare had been adamant that she wasn't going to explain anything to him, though at the time he had asked she'd been entirely focused on getting out of the Pelagiris and into the populated parts of Valdemar as quickly as possible.

Something in the fire snapped and popped, making the wood shift and sending sparks into the air to vanish into the sky. It wasn't night, wasn't dark, but he was cold right down to his bones and the flame made him feel safer, anyway. Probably, that had something to do with his Gift.

Firestarting.

Dragan had heard of it, of course, when he was at the Collegium, but he'd never seen it in use. The idea that he could start fires with his mind alone seemed… appropriate, but a little frightening. Even after using his Gift twice, he couldn't feel it in his mind. For some reason, he'd thought he'd be able to feel it—be able to tell it was there—maybe a warm part in his head, or something similar.

But he felt the same as he always had, save for the comforting link between himself and Cheyne.

So there was a monster, composed entirely of flame, lurking in his head, but he couldn't even tell it was there. Well, that was a bit disconcerting. Dragan wondered if there was anyone back at Haven who could explain the entire Firestarting Gift to him at all.

The only Herald he knew who had the Gift was Jestel, but his Firestarting was barely there at all.

Maybe Herald Candice. He'd heard that she was a Firestarter, but hadn't ever talked to her, since she wasn't a teacher. He thought she was a special-ops type of Herald: the kind that did menial tasks until a real crisis, and then came out in full-force. Sort of like Herald Quinlan, though being the Weaponsmaster couldn't really be considered menial.

As if I didn't stand out enough before, he thought wryly, now that I can torch things just by thinking about them, I'm going to be an entire world apart.

o-o-o-o-o

He'd escaped from Fradrick, thank the Gods. Or, more realistically, thanks to Aristides' Chosen, who had swooped in just in the nick of time and nabbed Fradrick about the time Lyntar began seriously thinking about drowning himself in the river. He assumed Ari had called her to rescue him when the Bard didn't show any signs of leaving after nearly a candlemark and a half.

Lyntar's hooves felt like they were growing into the grass, he'd been standing in one spot for so long.

:I figured you could use a helpful hand,: Ari told him from the other side of the Terilee, :and since I'm sadly lacking in that area, I called Samara to drag Fradrick away. And by the way, I highly disapprove of Arlam and Niressa leaving you alone with him like that.:

:I didn't see you volunteering to come over here when they left.: Lyntar pointed out, moving from where he'd been pinned for far too long and wandering the few feet to the water to drink.

Ari laughed, :I had no intention of coming any closer than I was.: Now, though, the man was gone so he started toward Lyntar, :I do admire you listening to him for that long, though. I don't think anyone has ever put up with Fradrick in Full Tilt mode for almost two candlemarks before. It's a record.:

:Hurray.: The stallion said dryly, :do I get a prize?:

:My admiration will have to do.:

:Oh joy.:

:It's just amazing. Most can't take him for more than a few minutes, at least not when he's as excited as he is today. When he cornered me, just after I brought Samara back to Haven from her Hunt… well, I'll admit I ducked out after about ten minutes. Havens, Eckran snapped at him and chased him off before he could really get going at all… but then Eckran isn't exactly known for his patience.:

:He seems nice.: Lyntar watched Ari wade into the stream and then slosh up the bank next to him, tail dripping and water streaming from his legs.

:Who? Fradrick?:

:No, Eckran.:

:Oh… yeah, he's nice. A bit stubborn, and a no-nonsense type, but a good all-around person.:

:Hm.: Lyntar surveyed the Field as the other stallion shook himself—the foals he's noticed earlier were gone from the water, probably to have a rest after tiring themselves out. It seemed to be the lazy sort of day, when most of the Herd relaxed in the shade or sunned themselves and enjoyed the weather. Or stood and gaped while an excitable Bard babbled at them like a brook…

His eyes landed on—

—Yauvani.

Gods, not today, not again, please.

The mare was walking purposely toward him, accompanied by two other Companions.

:Uh oh.: Ari followed his gaze and cringed mentally. :This… could be trouble.:

:No kidding.: Lyntar raised his head and glared at Yauvani as she approached, which made her narrow her eyes in return and snort angrily. Not a good way to start a conversation—or confrontation. Whatever. :What now, Yauvani?:

:Spirit Lyntar,: she replied, her voice calm but dangerously edged with anger. Lyntar growled silently in response to her "Spirit" barb, but refused to sink to her level and respond. :You and I must share some words. Now.: