Stybba was only moving at a tired trot when Jet finally prompted her to slow down and rest, the pure white hair on the animal damp with sweat that glistened in the morning air. The two drifters had been forced to alternate between rider and passenger throughout the night several times, so either one could receive an equal amount of sleep and still continue. Virginia was resting gently against his back and hugging his middle to keep herself from falling off. She was sleeping, and Jet was trying his best to fight back the hot flush burning on his face whenever he drew his personal attention to that thought. The silver-haired android blinked his eyes sleepily and yawned, feeling the horse canter to a gentle halt.

He carefully dismounted so Virginia wouldn't be disturbed, leading the mare to a small patch of dampened ground, barely passing as a waterhole. All the water was nearly dried up, and the only things that remained were a murky liquid and cracked mud. Yet, in this area and season, it was a blessing upon the planet. Stybba thankfully lowered her nose into the pool, drinking up all the water she could reach. She deserved the refreshment after such a strenuous sprint across the countryside, Virginia could be proud of her.

Jet was slumping where he stood, tired from all the strain navigation had taken out of him. In the distance, he could see the great ravine that they had visited the other day, where all their problems had started. It was ironic to go back there so soon, to find a cure instead of a cause. Virginia stirred and awoke, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The first thing she did was look at Jet, silently asking why they had stopped.

The boy gently patted the horse's side. "Nearly there," He explained, his violet eyes dulled by a lack of sleep, "Just a little bit more. I thought we may as well break here because the horse wasn't lookin' too good." Virginia nodded a little and yawned, glancing over the horizon.

"Just a little bit more…" She repeated, slowly becoming awake.

xxx

Not too long after the sunrise, three ambient shots were fired into the air, the sound loud, piercing and stirring. It certainly stirred up the group of bandits who were awake the second after they had heard the noise, their reactions priceless to the little girl already awake and watching the area, a still-sleeping bird in her lap. The crack of the bullet leaving it's canister made them all practically jump into the air, tangled up in their own blankets and shocked into wild conclusions in the small frame of time between sleep and the unknown. If the sky had a ceiling, then Dario probably would have hit it with ease, wondering who the hell was being shot at.

Antonio, having spent the night sleeping sitting up, tumbled forward and into the warm ashes of the exhausted campfire, getting ashes and soot all over his dark brown clothing. Cursing in Spanish, he scrabbled away and dusted himself off, stepping back and then tripping over Romero who had rolled over several times and gotten tangled up in his own blanket, trying to squirm out of it. Kaitlyn began to giggle, as a team of murderous bandits, they certainly were hilarious, but not good morning people. Ravendor had similar thoughts as he lowered his ARM and looked them over, sweatdropping. He had kind of expected more… order than this.

His face reached a neutral expression as all three bandits shook off the noise after a couple of seconds, lying back on the ground and pulling blankets and any reachable soft material over their heads. Antonio was practically attempting to snooze in the dead fire, not caring about how dirty he got. Romero rolled himself back up into his cloth cocoon and ignored the world, his older brother Dario cramming his hat over his face to block out the newly-risen sun. Knowing that this would not be the last time in the day he would have to do this, Ravendor lightly scratched the side of his chin and pondered how to resuscitate his lazy-ass minions.

Before anyone else had a chance to think, Ravendor suddenly had the metal can he used to cook dinner and a wooden spoon, glancing back at Kaitlyn and smirking. She could easily guess what he was about to do, obligingly putting her hands over her ears. Kestorael still hadn't woken up yet, it looked like it would take more than just gunfire to awaken the wind sprite, making little birdie snores in the midst of oblivion. Ravendor took in a deep breath, and Kaitlyn braced herself, glad that she had managed to get up early.

"RISE AND SHINE!" The bandit leader bellowed at the top of his lungs while banging the can as loud as he could with the spoon, the noise blaring and impossible to ignore. Nobody could possibly sleep through that, including all the deaf and dumb people of the world. Ravendor circumnavigated the perimeter of the campsite while yelling and making an ungodly amount of noise, causing his little hostage to burst into a fit of laughter as Kestorael just about exploded into full alertness, startled and mimicking the bandits in a bizarre way.

"Come on, now! It is the most spectacular morning! You cannot just spend it asleep! Wake up time!" His refined voice echoed easily in the crisp clean air, the ambient banging noise quite unable to cover it up. When Ravendor wanted to be heard, he was always heard. A defeated Romero popped his head out of his cocoon and groaned, his blonde hair messed up horribly and stuck out in all the wrong places. Antonio and Dario gave in and got up, the day still too early for their liking. No sane person would wake up so early, they thought, although they kept this opinion to themselves.

Ravendor dumped the cooking instruments in Romero's lap and turned away, looking over the horizon and smiling. Nearby, Kaitlyn appeared thoughtful. It was a little weird and confusing for her to see Ravendor so curiously cheerful and positive after he had seemed so depressed when the sun had come up, but now that it was over, he seemed to be much happier. Her inexperienced mind having trouble grasping the concept, Kaitlyn suddenly had another thought, one that she didn't think to be nice at all. What if Ravendor was only pretending to be happy when he really wasn't? Her father used to do it all the time whenever he and her mother talked about her grandfather, so the concept was not unfamiliar at all. It was just more than a little strange to see another man who was so similar to her father doing the same thing.

Kaitlyn had, though she wasn't one hundred percent sure, managed to hit the nail right on the head with her observation. Ravendor was anything but happy, he just felt that he couldn't show it to anyone, not just yet. Nobody had noticed that he was leaning forward slightly from his hidden wound, and he hoped to keep it that way, drawing all attention away from it by acting content. He only had a little while to go, just a little bit more…

"Bo-oss!" Romero whined, squirming out of his blanket and standing up straight, leaning to one side from sleep deprivation. "Can't we just… have a bit more time, huh? I mean, geez, even Janus didn't make us get up this early!" His complaints stopped when Ravendor made no reply to his words, not even turning around to face him. "Boss?" It was a little creepy to realise, but Romero could have sworn that the temperature of the campsite had dropped by at least five degrees in sync with his leader's silence, where you could suddenly hear a pin drop. The bandit leader's mood had immediately inverted so fast, it was frightening.

Their hostage felt that she had to cut in before it was too late, letting go of Kestorael and watching him flutter into the sky. Dario lumbered by and she stopped him, grabbing hesitantly at his sleeve. "Um, I kinda need to go to the bathroom…" She admitted, rising from her temporary bed and looking imploringly at the bearded man. He put down the bag of supplies he had been carrying and glanced at Ravendor for advice, even though the only presence he could pick up from him at the moment was a sharp and icy one.

His voice mimicked that presence, refined and quiet, but bearing all the metaphorical qualities of a poisoned icicle. This was not directed straight at Dario, even though Ravendor answered the silent question, but at the world in general. "Dario," Ravendor lilted frostily, accurately describing the bandits position and frame of mind, "Do not just stand there like a brainless fool, escort the young lady to the facilities like a good gentleman. Antonio, I wish for you to scout the surrounding area for a few minutes, and you, Romero," The venom in his voice was honed to a razor sharp blade, "Stay here. I would like to speak with you."

Antonio shot a worried glance at his younger brother, the way Ravendor had said 'speak', he made it sound like a long stay in the infernal region would be a thousand times more preferable. He gave Romero a brief smile before obeying the orders, not wanting to be the focus of Ravendor's disapproval for very long. The foreign bandit had worked with the dark-haired man a few times before in his career, and had more experience to know when to avoid things like this. The small man was smart enough to know exactly when to make himself scarce. In the true way of the ninja, without anybody watching him leave, Antonio was gone.

Dario took a hint. After the newest bandit had left under Ravendor's direction, he gingerly guided the little girl away from the camp, shooting a glance back at the only two people who were left behind. Romero looked like a child well aware that he was going to be scolded by a teacher, shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly and rubbing his scarred eye. Unusually, he shivered. Why was it so damn cold all of a sudden?

Ravendor still did not move. "Romero Gigio, age twenty four. You were born and abandoned in Little Twister, occupying the eastern section of the town alongside children of a similar nationality until you left to pursue a… more rewarding career. Your three, or should I say, two older brothers do not have any genetic relationship to you, do they?" The blonde bandit blanched, hardly expecting his boss to recite anything like that. "Well, am I correct?"

"Y-yeah…" Romero stuttered, unnerved. "You are."

Moving calmly and nearly without conscious thought, Ravendor tipped a cigarette out of his diminishing packet and lit it with a lighter that had somehow found it's way into his hand and then disappeared back into his jacket pocket just as readily. The temperature was imitating his mood, as it sometimes did when his mind became far too focussed. He breathed out smoke and saw that his own clear breath had form in the air, the temperature low enough to create a bit of fog. When he spoke, the voice was so commanding and icy that it could barely be described. "Whom do you serve?" He asked, making Romero flinch from the deadly tone.

Serve? Is this guy for real?

Romero stepped back, nearly walking into the burnt-out fire. A slight wind blew ash across his shoes as he scuffed away, his large green bandanna hiding most of the uncertain look he was showing to the world. Only a few seconds ago his boss had been pretty damn cheerful, not even old Janus had been that moody. Romero knew he should say something and say it fast, but absolutely nothing sprung to mind. A few seconds passed, and Ravendor spoke again, with much more incentive in his voice. "Whom do you serve?"

The effect was similar to being stabbed in the back by a piece of ice, and Romero audibly yelped before answering, steam from the cold air and his breath gathering around his face. "You!" He shrilled, arms rigid by his sides, "Not Janus, right? That's what you're pissed off about, right? W-we're on the same team now, so no pain for anyone, right?" It would only be a few seconds before he proved himself wrong.

He emitted a strangled yelp as his feet were suddenly dangling a short way above the ground, a pale yet strong hand clamped around his neck and leaving him hanging there, gasping for breath. Ravendor's eyes were barely even focussed and gazing at an invisible object somewhere in front of him, as if he glanced at something inward instead of outward. When he spoke, he had lost the icy edge, now he only spoke softly and simply, like somebody explaining things to a dumb child. Romero struggled for a few seconds, then just decided to go limp. "So, that is it?" He asked, hiding emotion.

"Wh-aaat…?" Came the stifled reply.

He continued. "So soon do you abandon such close ties to your leader, after so long? You are eager to be led again, and you easily expect me to assume that role. I will do so gladly, yet it causes me to wonder…" The grip tightened, "Exactly how long a memory can last, when held by a group of scumbags like you. Do you not seek revenge for your fallen comrade, or is his memory less than the gella I pay?" Ravendor smiled cruelly, amused by an interesting thought. "I suppose, such is life, but be warned. When you die, you will die as a bandit, which means no-one will ever remember you, and you shall fade from thought, memory, and history. It is the ultimate death."

Ravendor let go, the ninja tumbling back down to the ground. Romero coughed a bit and rubbed his neck, feeling his boss's eyes drilling into him and shuddering. Snuffing out his cigarette before Kaitlyn came back, he stepped on the remains and hauled the blonde man to his feet, whispering something foul into his ear. "I am not a very violent man, if left unprovoked. Continue to work hard without complaint and I shall proceed to act this way. I want no disruptions from anyone, do you understand?" Romero nodded, and the other man smiled, the temperature of the area rising moderately. "Good. We have an agreement, then."

And Kaitlyn came skipping back, Dario trailing close behind her. Ravendor turned to them and made an announcement, all previous discontent leaving his face. "Breakfast first, and then we will leave soon. It will only be a short walk until we are there." Kestorael landed on the side of his arm, and Ravendor sat down on a moderately small rock, knowing that he was easily going to skip his own breakfast. He hardly ever ate anything, anyway. With his unique body, he really did not need it. At the very most, he could subsist on light, water and air particles enough to sustain his body, but it did sometimes feel nice to eat a decent meal, it was like a reminder that he was still partially human.

He watched the others set up the tools for breakfast, staying seated and quietly listening to Dario and Romero argue about having bacon or eggs for breakfast. Kaitlyn butted in and suggested that they all have both, and so the argument was dissolved before anything got too complicated. Soon, the scent of frying bacon wafted around the campsite, attracting both the ground and aerial scout back for a meal. Kestorael hopped around eagerly and cawed, while Antonio arrived with no noise, jumping down from off an overhanging rock. He moved so quietly, that not even Ravendor sensed his added presence.

His visibly flinched as Antonio placed a gloved hand on his shoulder, yet the only traceable glimmer of pain flickering across his face hidden behind his eyes, disappearing as soon as it had came. The ninja quickly pulled his hand away and timidly shoved it in his pocket, alarmed. He might have been wrong, but the small man could have sworn that something unknown had moved underneath the coat at his back, in reflex to the touch. Looking back at his face, Antonio was surprised to see the bandit leader wipe away a trace of blood from his mouth, caused by the unexpected pressure. Was he hurt?

"You okay, Boss?" He asked him anxiously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. There hadn't been any fights he had missed, had they? The ninja had reckoned that he had done a pretty good job as a watchman last night, even if he did end up falling asleep. And even so, somebody would have scolded him, or at least mentioned it by now. Antonio took a very deep breath, for a dead pig, bacon really did smell nice.

The dark-haired man nodded slightly. "I am perfectly fine," He lied, "Go and eat something, I insist upon it." Antonio gave him a very odd look and skulked off to the meal, where Dario was being attacked by a hungry raven and getting his breakfast stolen. Romero, still shaken by the recent 'talk', was only picking at his food, shooting worried glances everywhere.

Quietly, Ravendor coughed up a little more blood after he was left alone, a hand on his hurt shoulder. The ninja's touch had been like fire, he had barely been able to keep his response to a minimum. This was unlike ten years ago, with the weakening of his medicine's effects, the change was happening far too fast and was becoming too noticeable. He would have to speed up his plan.

He was running out of time.