This Chapter/Summary: Gilan goes on a mission with Will and Horace, and they have a little fun making fun of his awful drawing skills.

The sun had set not even an hour ago. Will, Gilan and Horace were safe under the cover of the forest, a good hundred yards away from the town and with it, the enemy camp.

The only lights out that night were the stars, the crescent moon, and the blazing campfire in the middle of town that didn't give them much light when they were crouching in the forest. At least the stars and moon were enough to see each other for now.

It was a clear shot once they got out of the trees, except for the small, tiny problem of four armed enemy guards blocking their way across the river. Gilan and Will were great at unseen movement, but it could prove to be difficult when crossing a river with nothing to cover them but the night.

But now that they had a good idea of the layout of their area, they could start making an attack plan. It was usually Will that came up with the plans, but this time, Gilan had something in mind.

"So we could attack this group of bandits straight out, and we would win," he said. He began illustrating their position, then the town's about a half foot away. Unlike Will, he worked better with a visual. "We could just shoot them down and sneak in from there, or sneak in close to them and take them out..." And then he just stopped talking.

Will glanced awkwardly at the knight next to him, but Horace was just as clueless as he was. The way he phrased it, it sounded like Gilan a second part to that thought but forgot where he was going with it before he finished. Like running to dive off a cliff and then falling a few feet from the edge. Gilan just kept drawing, completely silent.

"So… why don't we do that?" Will asked, eventually.

"Because there are people watching them from inside the camp. If they're shot, people will see, then those people will wake up more people, and so on. They could fight back against us. Not to mention, I wouldn't be surprised if they just burned the entire town down once we started taking over." Gilan put the stick down and adjusted his own position on the ground. "Sorry, I knew that before I stopped, but I had to finish my drawing."

Will stared blankly down at the plan. "Great," he said. "It looks beautiful."

"I know, right?"

Suddenly Will was honest with him, "Your buildings look like curvy trapezoids."

Gilan sneered. "Well, I'm so sorry, Mr. Professional Artist."

"We could… lure the bandits out to us," Horace said, trying to take a neutral position in this argument. "If they have a reason to leave, people won't be suspicious."

"That's good." Gilan drew an arrow from the bandits to the group's position. "Then we could… wait, hold on." Gilan erased the last part of the arrow, which had become more of a squiggly line than an arrow, and Will and Horace had to watch as Gilan painstakingly redrew the end to make it perfectly straight again.

"There, it's straight. Shut up, Will."

Will looked offended. "I wasn't saying anything that time," he said. Will wasn't even supposed to be here, Gilan remembered. Neither was Horace, for that matter. Gilan was the one sent to deal with these bandits, but he met Will along the way, who offered his help and Gilan took him up on that offer. Horace was about to pass through Les Sourges when he discovered it was taken over and he thought it was only polite to help, too. From there their duo expanded into a trio, but Gilan was still in charge.

So Will could shut up, Gilan thought, because he wouldn't even be there if it wasn't for him.

"Anyway," Will said, "with the guards gone, Gilan and I could slip in undetected and start taking people out from the inside."

"But we still haven't decided how to get the bandits out of position," Horace said. He preferred to plan according to what would come first, and what was last. He knew, though, that rangers thought a little more freely.

"Hm…" Will thought aloud. "Luring someone out requires baiting them, sometimes by raising an alarm and sometimes using… well, a more peaceful approach. We can't have them suspecting anything, because that's why we're going through all this trouble of baiting them, so we need a peaceful way to distract them."

"We could use Horace as bait," Gilan suggested.

"No."

"No."

Gilan sighed. "Relax a little, you guys. I wouldn't do that to him."

Horace opened his mouth to reply with something about Gilan talking about him like he wasn't there, but Will was the one to interrupt the argument that time. "We could use the horses," the ranger said. "The bandits have been stealing horses along the way and taking them with them, so if they saw Tug, Blaze and Kicker nearby, they would go after them." Gilan began hurriedly drawing that next addition to the plan.

Horace caught on, "And we could call the horses back deeper into the forest, leading the bandits to us."

"Exactly." Will smiled. "With three horses, we can also guarantee that most, if not all of the guards will be coming after them."

"Alright, then," Gilan said. He was putting the last touches on the horses. "That should take out the few guards so Will and I can sneak through the camp."

"And where do the dead bears come in?" Will asked.

Gilan looked up at Will and stared. Usually Gilan was just a little bit confused on something and needed some quick clarification to figure it out… but this time, he had absolutely no idea what Will was talking about. He had less than no idea. "What?" he asked.

Will nodded down to the ground. "These things." He pointed to the three "horses" Gilan drew and repeated, "Where do the dying bears come in?"

Gilan glared at him. "They're horses! Leave my art alone!"

Will squinted his eyes at the "horses". He stared really hard like his vision was failing him. "...Really?" he asked.

"Yes, you little shit!"

They heard the quick burst of a laugh from Horace, who quickly shut back up.

Will shook his head, grinning and said, "Sorry, sorry. You told us to relax a little, so I…"

"That's not what I meant!" Gilan glanced back at the drawing. "How do they look like they're dying, anyway?" he asked. "They're standing up."

"Not like that. They look dead inside."

"Oh, well that's just great."

"So…" Horace said, slowly and unsure if they would actually listen, "can you two take out the whole camp by yourselves? Because once you've done enough, you could give me a signal and I could go in, too. It's awkward just sitting there, waiting for something to do."

Gilan was drawing himself and Will, as stick figures moving towards vaguely rectangular blobs. Will half paid attention to him and half thought about Horace's question.

"If we need you we'll give you a signal, but I think, for the sake of being as quick and quiet as possible, Gilan and I should go alone. Or you can help round them all up when we're done," he said.

Horace nodded. "Okay, that's fine."

They both turned back to Gilan's almost finished drawing. "I didn't mean to become the designated artist here," Gilan mumbled. "But I had to prove a point." He angrily threw the stick down on the dirt next to him.

Will stared. "With what?"

"What?!" he exclaimed. "These are much better better than the dead bears!" Gilan pointed to the sloppy looking stick figures supposed to be Will and Gilan, then the one back with the horses that represented Horace. They could've been drawn by an eight year old. An eight year old who wasn't trying and might've been drunk.

"Ohh, I see," Will said. "This one is Horace because he's got a sword."

"Yes, obviously." Gilan crossed his arms over his chest.

"And this one is me because I have a big 'W' on my face."

"I couldn't think of anything else," Gilan said.

"And this one is you… why?" Will looked back up at his fellow ranger.

"The hair." Gilan pointed to the long, luxurious hair on the rather plain looking stick figure. "I'm the only one with nice hair, out of the three of us."

"It's certainly the longest."

Gilan sneered, and turned away stubbornly. Although he tried, Will couldn't keep a straight face and tried desperately to hide his giggling. Even Horace was starting to laugh now.

"Well," the older ranger spat, "excuse me, Mr. I'm So Amazing At Art. We became rangers instead of artists for a reason, you know."

"I'm just kidding, Gilan, you know that." Will punched him playfully in the shoulder. "It's good enough that we can see what we're going to do. So let's go over it one more time."

"Okay," Horace said. He repeated exactly what they'd decided on: "So we distract the stick figures with the dead bears, lure them out, then the W and the wavy hair infiltrate the blob land and quietly take everyone out while the sword thing waits for a signal."

Horace was looking down, but he could feel Gilan's intense glare on him since he said 'the dead bears'. He didn't dare look up. He might die.

Seconds that felt like hours passed, where the only sound between them was Will's uncontrollable laughter.

"Y'all are awful," Gilan spat. He stood up, fast enough they couldn't see the next look on his face and started walking away, probably to the horses.

The last thing they heard before Gilan disappeared behind the next row of trees, was him, half grinning half muttering, "I'll get the dead bears, then." And he walked away, leaving Will and Horace to laugh and reluctantly erase the horrendous drawing.