He looked even smaller in the morning, dwarfed by Steve's cloak. He was eating the sludge from their ration packs with a happy expression. He was practically bouncing in place as if the disgusting rations were something he was used to, enjoyed even.

It was concerning. The way he'd whined the night before, calling out for a family. A family that wasn't there. Probably hadn't been there for a long time. None of the others had even bothered responding. That was something that he was used to. Steve could see it in how he had reacted to comfort, even as pathetically little comfort as Steve's cloak provided.

Steve sighed and pulled his pack unto his back before helping Mapline with theirs. "Thanks," they mumured groggily.

Today they would face their second maze, and they were all nervous about it. The day before had shown them just how serious this training was. They couldn't afford to make mistakes, and they couldn't afford to slack off. Not with their lives, and the lives of their companions on the line.

"Hey," Steve jumped, startled by the sueaky voice. The witchling blinked at him innocently, like he had been standing there the whole time and not across the camp. How had he even-? Steve hadn't even seen him move!

"Do ya want your cloak back?" He squeaked, red eyes gleaming oddly in the sunlight. He held the cloak he'd been wearing minutes ago up to the teen.

"I... No? You can keep it, kid." The witchling shrugged and slipped the cloak back on. His mask was slid back down, and the hood pulled up. "'Kay." He mumbled, falling quiet again.

Weird kid, cute, but weird. Steve thought with amusement as the witchling scampered back to his pack and struggled to strap it on. "Here, let me help you." He said, pulling the pack up so it settled on his shoulders. The witchling stumbled a bit but quickly adjusted the straps.

"I'm Steve, by the way." The kid stared at him blankly, almost confused. "Aren't you Scout 19?" He asked after a moment, "None of the scouts at the castle have a name."

That... was concerning on many levels that Steve decided he was not going to think about. "Well, I have a name. Steve. So you have a name too. What's your name?"

The witchlet tilted his head slightly. "I have a position. Isn't that like a name?"

Steve twitched slightly, a sort of sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. "What's your position?" He asked.

"Hunter! I'm Belos' Hunter! I hunt down criminals and objects! I haven't really hunted any criminals yet, though!" That did not make him feel better.

"Well, then, I guess Hunter is your name." He was starting to wonder if the emporers coven was all it was cracked up to be. Who gave a witchlet a position but not a name?

Naming him was something a parent would do, and something in Steve was writhing uncomfortably at the thought of what he'd done.

What he shouldn't have had to do.

Hunter giggled as he dodged an incoming spell.

This maze was one of the easiest they would face, according to Miss Clawthorne.

All they had to do, was get past the first twenty feet of the booby-trapped maze and grab a med kit. Hunter had known they wouldn't have enough for all thirteen of them. Uncle had told him they left only a few medkits there to weed out the unworthy. Usually, they started fighting over them, or the correct amount of participants made it through the maze.

Hunter was determined to be first. He wanted to prove himself, and the first step was making the record for scout training. Hunter twisted around another scout, running past them and their fallen companion with little care. He wasn't exactly sure why the other scout had been lying on the ground, but he did know that they were one of the unworthy ones who wouldn't make it to the medkits.

Suddenly he felt something heavy and blunt make contact with his pack, and he was flying. The wind whistled past him, and a weird swooping feeling went through him. For a moment, airborne, Hunter saw the entirety of the maze beneath him as a rush of euphoria sang in his veins. Then the moment ended as he started falling and headed directly towards the endpoint of the maze. Hunter was torn between panic and happiness. On the one hand, he was falling! On the other, well, he'd be there first for sure.

He hit the ground with a thud and took a wheezing breath. Everything hurt now. A dull ache in his legs and sharp pangs when he tried to breathe. He was sure he'd heard something crack upon landing, but he didn't stay there long enough to think about what hurt the most. Instead, he jumped to his feet and nearly toppled over before he ran to the medkits. Hunter began sorting through them. Looking for one that was decently stocked. Growing up in the palace had been an advantage because he knew that some of the medkits were missing essentials or had out-of-date potions. The scouts back in the castle were actually rather easy to get information from. They always gave him weird looks when he asked about training, though, so he'd learned to eavesdrop instead.

He found one that had bandages, healing potions that were a few weeks from expiration, and a splint. It wasn't like the one he had at home from the healing coven but it was good enough for training. It was still difficult to breath but as the challenge came to a close he couldn't help but be happy.

There hadn't been any fighting over the med kits so Hunter knew that the worthy ones had made it through the maze and the rest had been weeded out.