Chapter 24

Whatever it Takes


"Ya in there, buddy?"

He didn't answer.

"Um, I see ya in bed. Want me to get anythin' for ya?"

Once again, no answer. He heard a sigh.

"We're worried, y'know. We care about'cha."

He didn't bother turning.

"Um, here. I brought'cha somethin' to eat."

He heard the clatter of a plate right by his bed. The warm aroma of acorns, nuts, and apples drifted through the air. Not that it mattered.

"Look, I'll check on ya when I'm done with some stuff. Just wanted to make sure you're alright. Ya haven't eatin' anythin' recently, either."

He felt his face twitch. Even though he hadn't eaten in a day or so, he wasn't hungry. He shouldn't be hungry.

"So, I guess what I'm sayin' is that we're worried 'boutcha. Ya haven't left your bed in a few days… we're here, aye?"

He wiped his face with a heavy paw. Slowly, he turned his head. Durkfor backed away from the bowl he set down, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"Oh. You're awake. Well, do ya want me to call somebeast over here? Y'know, to just, spend time wit' ya?"

If he had the energy to, he would've scowled. He didn't have anybeast that he would consider a friend. That was entirely his fault, though. That's what happens when you ignore everything else for…

Durkfor sat in silence for a moment before realising he wasn't going to respond. The hare simply sat down by his bed and tilted his head. "Y'know? You're pretty important. I'll just stay wit' ya for the day. Borsen's gone on one o' his random 'leave the abbey for a week', anyway, so I'm free. I'll grab some books from upstairs an' I'll just be here, y'know? Sorry I talk a lot, heh." The hare chuckled awkwardly. After taking one last glance, he stood up, headed out of the dormitories, and went up to the library.

Still unmoving, Arthur watched as the hare disappeared beyond the staircase. The squirrel glanced down at the bowl of soup Durkfor left. In the back of his mind, there was a faint, dull pang of… something. He still couldn't quite place it, yet…

… Hm. Durkfor really was a nice beast.


"Well, here we are," Durkfor Ventultro said as he placed his paws on his hips.

Art Swiftpaw scanned the area in front of him and grumbled. "For a dock, I thought it'd be larger. It was marked on the map with a big X and everything."

Durkfor shrugged. "Eh, don't worry. We'll find somethin'."

A pang of anger flashed through Art, but he decided not to say anything yet. Don't worry? What do you mean don't worry? He thought to himself. "By any chance, did your friend tell you anything about boats?"

"Hm?"

"He's a sea otter."

"Uh… no?"

Art sighed and began to walk forward. "Well. I guess we should still look at what's here. Who knows? Maybe we'll find a spear or something."

"Eh heh, hopefully not," Durkfor muttered.

Art rolled his eyes. "Hey, Brother Durkfor, may I ask you something?"

"What is it?" The hare responded absentmindedly.

"What were you and the wildcat talking about?" Art asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

Durkfor paused and answered with an awkward chuckle. "Uh, well…"

"Go on," Art said sharply.

"We were just havin' a chat 'bout… stuff. Honestly, t'was mainly 'bout Borsen," he admitted. "Why're ya askin'?"

Art scoffed. "Nothing. C'mon, let's check this place out."

"Right ahead," Durkfor exclaimed, even if he was a bit weirded out by Art right now.

Given the general state of everything they had seen so far, Art didn't know what he was expecting to see at the docks, but even then, he was still somehow disappointed. There were only two sets of docks jutting out and above the ocean. A small tent was set up to the left. A few wheelbarrows were placed off to the side, one of which was carrying rocks of some kind. Just like everything else on the island, however, it wasn't well maintained. The left dock had a few holes in it while the right looked like someone hacked into it repeatedly with a large weapon. Either way, Art wasn't impressed.

"Well, this turned out to be a waste of time." Art motioned for the two to leave but Durkfor stopped him.

"Hey, maybe we should check it out a tad, hm? Ya never know what could be here!" He said optimistically.

Art grumbled moodily. "Yeah, whatever."

Durkfor's ears lowered as he gazed down at the squirrel. "Art, are ya mad at me?"

"No, what makes you think that?" Art replied dryly.

Durkfor rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Um… I'm just gonna look inside that tent, aye?"

"Oh, aye." He replied mockingly.

"Art, please just… nevermind." Art's face stiffened as Durkfor walked past and headed towards the tent. Art didn't follow. The squirrel's paw reached hesitantly towards the sickle tucked into his belt. His eyes slowly locked onto the back of Durkfor's neck.

Art blinked. His heart began to pound in his chest. He looked around for something else to focus on, like the cloudy grey sky above him with only hints of sunlight peeking through like an open wound or the strange gashes in the carts. Art looked out into the pale grey sea, with the rolling waves crashing against the steep side of the shoreline. Sharp rocks jutted out of the foamy water, threatening to pierce anybeast unlucky that fell from the dilapidated docks. The squirrel's breathing quickened. This wasn't helping to distract him at all.

Art pulled the sickle from his belt as quietly as a ghost. His paws shook as he stared at Durkfor's back. His mind grew hazy with rage as he thought about Borsen. That otter needed to suffer. There was no other way about it.

"Do whatever it takes to make sure good triumphs over evil." Whatever I can, hm…? Even if I have to kill Durkfor to make it happen?

Back in the dark tunnels, Art thought back to himself before he was captured. After Ravi… died, he was a mess. The mouse was the only beast that got along with Art, and the moment he died, he stayed in bed. Didn't leave for days. Couldn't even bother to eat. Art narrowed his eyes. He hated Borsen with all his being, but if there was one thing he knew about the otter, it was that he loved Durkfor. If Durkfor dies… well, Borsen wouldn't take that well, now would he? Certainly would take one of our pursuers out of commission, hm?

But even with all that in mind, Art couldn't stop shaking. His throat was dry and his stomach felt light. Just one slash through the neck and it's over. Just one cut in the jugular. You don't have to do anything else. One cut. It's just like killing that rat…

Art padded forward, but as soon as Durkfor disappeared into the tent, he lost his resolve. The squirrel let out a sigh. No, dear Martin, this isn't just like killing that rat! This is Durkfor. You've known him for seasons. He was one of the only beasts who actually looked out for you after… that happened. Your own uncle didn't even do anything because he didn't know what to do. I can't kill Durkfor, even if he is friends with Borsen. What is wrong with you, Arthur?

"Art! In here!" Durkfor exclaimed suddenly. Art flinched with surprise and ran into the tent. When he pushed open the flaps, he was met with Durkfor standing over a shoddy raft. Art raised an eyebrow. This thing didn't even remotely look seaworthy, so he didn't know what Durkfor was excited about. The hare looked up at Art with excitement, but his smile faded soon after. "Ya have a scary look on your face. Are ya alright?"

Art put on a strained smile and replied, "ah, I'm fine. So… this is a boat."

"Yup!" Durkfor said excitedly.

"It's not that big."

"Haha, well…"

"It looks like it could fit four beasts max, and that's assuming it doesn't disintegrate from somebeast tapping it with their paw." Art reached over to the raft and tapped it a few times with his sickle. "Oh look. It didn't break."

Durkfor frowned with concern. "Art, really, is somethin' wrong?"

Art growled at himself, shaking his head slowly. "No, I'm fine. There's a boat. Wonderful."

Durkfor circled the raft as he examined it. "Hm… Y'know, I dunno nothin' 'bout building boats or rafts. Ya don't suppose this is seaworthy, aye?"

"Oh, yes, it is," Art deadpanned.

The hare's ears twitched as he thought to himself. "Um… Ya wouldn't happen to know 'bout boats, aye?"

"No."

"Do ya think anybody else would?"

Art went over the mental list he created. Miena and Ulfrad were otters, so they might know something. That otter kid might know something, but Art wasn't counting on it because of his age. That group of vermin may be useful, too. That fox was wearing a corsair captain's jacket and the rat did have an eye covering, so odds were that they had lived at sea for an extended period of time and may know a thing or two about repairing rafts. Still, even if they did know something, Art knew to be wary of them. Then there were the two shrews, but both of them were very dead, which Art thought kind of sucked (though, now that Art thought about it, those two seemed kind of familiar). "A few of them might," Art replied vaguely.

"Oh." Durkfor rubbed his arm awkwardly as he looked around. "So, should we start takin' the trek back?

"Yup." Art nodded. He let Durkfor exit first and was about to do the same when he looked around. He found it strange how this tent only had a raft and nothing else. What was this place used for? Art pondered for a bit before shaking his head. It wasn't important. He followed Durkfor out of the tent. But even after they left, Art couldn't stop thinking about his plan to kill Durkfor. It was bad, and the fact that he even considered it in the first place made him hate himself. "Brother Durkfor, I'm sorry for being like this."

Durkfor smiled. "Don't worry 'bout it, Art. 'Tis gettin' to all o' us."

"Doesn't seem like it's getting to you," Art noted with a hint of jealousy.

"Believe me, it is," Durkfor replied. Art couldn't find it in himself to believe it, though.

"I mean, no offense, but you're safer than all of us," Art muttered. "What would you even be scared about here? You have nothing to worry about."

"O' course, I do!" Durkfor said incredulously. "I'm worried fore all of ya, o' course."

"Oh, do you now?" Art began before immediately shutting his mouth. If you really were worried for us, you would've stuck a knife in that cat's chest. If I was in your position, there'd be nothing stopping me from trying to tear that wildcat apart with my own two paws. Of course, I can't do that, but it sure is nice to think about.

Noting Durkfor's shocked expression, Art cleared his throat and said, "uh, just a joke. Of course, you care about all of us."

Durkfor stared blankly at Art before chuckling awkwardly. "Oh, um, funny joke." Boy. Sometimes 'tis hard to know if what Art's sayin' is serious or not.

Art stared down at the ground. "Yup. Funny joke." His plan was a bust. No matter what, he couldn't find it in himself to kill Durkfor… But Borsen really did love Durkfor, right? Art let out a one-note hum as he tapped the handle of his sickle. Sure, he couldn't kill Durkfor, but that doesn't mean he couldn't do something else. Art looked up at the sky. The sun would start to set, soon. He narrowed his eyes as he recalled what Farshawn had said earlier. Borsen was heading towards the tower, and they had Durkfor. The squirrel's heartbeat quickened as another idea formed in his head. He just needed to wait until they returned to the other group.

"Whatever it takes…" Next time, I swear I won't back down…


As he sat obscured in the bushes, Vhynias Sharptail gazed out at the crashed ship. Earlier that day, he ran away from it to save himself, but now he was going to run back in to save a friend. He didn't regret it, though. Not one bit. Miena's words be damned, he needed to know for sure that Tornear was alive.

Getting inside the ship was easier said than done, however. Many beasts were working outside or keeping watch, though they were doing so in such an unorganised manner that Vhynias somehow felt less afraid of them. Most of them seemed to be doing their own thing as long as it was vaguely related to the main task at paw.

For heaven's sake, that dead shrew is still lying on the beach. Lord knows why they haven't bothered to remove her.

Vhynias' paw unconsciously drifted to the cutlass by his side. All of the beasts on the beach were wearing black cloaks or jackets. Vhynias found it a bit odd, but given that there was a storm earlier, he excused it a bit. Whatever the reason for them wearing it was, it meant that sneaking inside would be a lot more difficult. He needed to steal one of those uniforms. Grumbling to himself, Vhynias rifled through his coat pockets for anything useful. His fingers brushed against the bird call and the file. The file… nope. No time for that. Finding Tornear comes first. Now, the bird call…

He pulled out the wooden whistle and scanned the beach. Isolating one beast is hard enough and there was the added problem of having to take a fox's uniform specifically if he wanted it to fit him. His eyes landed on the foxes on the beach, searching for the weakest member of the pack, so to speak.

His eyes landed on a small-looking fox sitting by himself as he stacked some rocks on each other (while also glancing towards the forest so he was technically keeping watch). Vhynias snorted. Getting a uniform was going to be easier than he thought. Vhynias moved closer to the small fox while still keeping to himself in the trees. Luckily, the treeline was somewhat far from the beach, so he had less of a chance of getting spotted.

Vhynias looked around for a hiding spot. His orange fur would give him out right away. After rolling around in some dirt, he crouched in the bushes, took off his dark coat, and placed it over himself. Then, he pressed the whistle to his lips and blew.

The small fox's ears twitched, but he otherwise didn't care. Annoyed, Vhynias blew the whistle again. The small fox's tail lashed in anger, and he let out a growl. Still, he didn't move. Vhynias looked around. It didn't seem like anybeast cared. Strange. Vhynias decided to wait a bit longer before blowing the whistle again. This time, the small fox threw his rocks down with anger, picked up a dagger, and stomped towards the woods. "Alright! Shirani! I know dat's ya! Ya stole d'mole's book an' ya prolly stole d'weasel's whistle, too. Shirani!"

Vhynias raised a brow at the other fox's words but stayed silent as he stomped past. He slammed the branch into the bushes angrily, just barely missing Vhynias. The taller fox slowly got up; eyes trained on the smaller fox's head. He couldn't make a sound.

Vhynias dashed forward and swung the sword sideways towards the fox's neck. Unfortunately, his swing was too high, and the blade lodged itself in the fox's jaw. The small fox let out a howl of agony and swung the branch backwards, knocking Vhynias in the stomach and sending him to the ground. A groan escaped Vhynias' lips as he slowly looked up. The smaller fox stumbled around, seemingly in too much pain to do anything else. With little compunction, Vhynias yanked the cutlass out of the fox's head and struck.

The smaller fox crumpled to the ground with a gash in its throat, spilling arterial blood all over the grass and, unfortunately for Vhynias, the cloak. Vhynias' head pounded with spite as he glared down at the fox. He raised his cutlass to defile the corpse even more when he heard somebeast calling out from behind him. His self-preservation instincts won over his anger and he tore the cloak off of the fox's body as fast as he could before bounding off into the trees. His footpaws felt like they were floating. He hardly seemed to fully register the fact that he had just killed somebeast and that it gone against what he normally believed in, but he was far past the point of feeling compassion. Vhynias ignored the screams erupting far behind him as he ran through the woods, searching for someplace to clean the blood off of his new cloak.


As it turned out, sneaking into the ship through the ocean proved to be a bad idea. Vhynias shivered violently as he sat huddled in the Twilight Serpent's brig (have they seriously not closed the hole yet? I feel like that'd be the first thing I'd do). He thought he could kill two birds with one stone by climbing through the hole, and while it did wash the blood off of the cloak, he was also freezing, and he accidentally cut his forearm trying to crawl through. Fantastic. The fox pulled his hood up, obscuring some of his face and most of his collar. He then wrapped the chains connected to his collar around his waist. Although the cloak was a bit small for him, his thin frame meant that it looked mostly normal, or so he hoped. Vhynias exhaled as he stood up and waded through the water that accumulated in the brig. The fox grimaced as he walked over the shrew's corpse and into the hallway.

It seemed that without any prisoners to guard, all of the beasts placed in front of the brig simply left. In fact, it seemed that the lower parts of the ship were mostly empty save for a few beasts attempting to bailwater. Vhynias found it very odd considering there was flooding and that the hole wasn't fixed, but it wasn't his problem.

He wandered through the dark, yet familiar hallways, gazing around at the place that he and his crew were dragged into. Even though his focus was on finding Tornear, something else caught his eye. On the other end of the hall from the brig was a room. Inside, Vhynias noticed a chest overflowing with items, one of which he recognised as Tornear's throwing knives. What're those knives doing there? Is this where our stolen stuff's kept?

Vhynias tentatively walked inside, peering out to make sure nobeast saw him before shutting the door. He opened the chest all the way and was met with a plethora of belongings. He found three more bird calls (Bolgash probably lost hers) and pocketed them. He also saw a steel dagger, two rapiers, Tornear's throwing knives, an amulet, a bracelet, a very tiny knife, a book, bags, jewellery, and a few other items. A chill ran down Vhynias' spine followed by a hollow feeling in his chest. Seeing all this stuff that belonged to the other prisoners gave him an indescribable feeling of dread, made even worse when he shakily picked up a locket and opened it, revealing a portrait of two young-looking mountain hares.

Dear lord, these other prisoners had lives, too. They probably have friends and family waiting for them, back home. What was I thinking trying to force 'em to come along wit' me? Noruth, Rianne, Miena, Ulfrad, Yos… I wonder who's waiting for 'em?

Vhynias' raised an eyebrow as he saw some kind of small journal in the chest. Curious, he picked it up and looked inside. On the pages were some impressively detailed schematics of ships, boats, rafts, canoes and the like, along with various drawings of shrews (the back contained some creepy sketches of shadowy figures and beasts, but Vhynias decided to ignore that). All of the sketches and drawings were labelled, which would've been very helpful if Vhynias could read. Still, somebeast back at the temple probably could, so he tucked it under his shoulder. He also took a bag (judging from the size, it probably belonged to Noruth) and stuffed the journal in there along with Tornear's throwing knives and the dagger. He decided to put the tiny knife in his coat pocket.

Almost hesitantly, Vhynias backed out of the room and shut the door. Part of him wanted to grab all of the stolen items to hand back to the others, but he doubted all of it could fit. He was already worried about the two knives stabbing the journal somehow. The fox glanced cautiously around the hallway. He didn't know how many beasts were on the ship nor how well they knew each other. Can I just sneak past, or do they know my face? Y'know what? It doesn't matter.

Tornear wasn't in the brig, so Vhynias headed upstairs, casually walking past two beasts who were fixing something.

The next floor had many more beasts walking around and Vhynias had to stop himself from whimpering. He was never good with crowds, and it didn't help that these beasts could stab him to death without a moment's notice. His eyes darted around for the nearest door, and he bolted inside. Way to not seem suspicious.

Vhynias shut the door and pressed his back against it. He took a moment to steady his rapid breathing and then looked around. He appeared to be in a storage room of sorts. It was a mess, whether it was because of the crash or something else, he didn't know. To his left were crates upon crates of books and documents, one of which being a box full of maps that looked very unkempt. The rest of the room held a variety of armour and weapons of various shapes and sizes. Suddenly, Vhynias felt very uneasy about running in here. Somebeast must have definitely seen him run inside. What would his excuse even be if somebeast were to question him?

Vhynias would have to come up with one soon enough. The dark room suddenly filled with light as the door opened behind him. The fox turned and came face-to-face with a ferret. Her eyes glowed with genuine concern as she gazed curiously at Vhynias. "Excuse me, are ye alright?"

"Um…" Vhynias' heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the ferret. He immediately scanned her to see if she had a weapon.

Her posture? Relaxed. Overly so.

Her expression? Genuine concern with a mix of surprise.

Her attire? An undone black jacket over a green tunic.

Her belt? Nothing that could hold a weapon. Her belt was simply rope tied around her waist. No sheath or scabbard or anything. Her pants didn't even have pockets.

With that in mind, Vhynias swallowed before answering. "Erm, yes. I'm fine… Yeah."

The ferret eyed him owlishly before shaking her head. "Nah. Ye look seasick. I'm getting ye some water. Be right back!" She exclaimed before darting out of the room. As soon as she left, Vhynias stepped forward to run out of the room. Something stopped him. He still hadn't found Tornear. It had been hours since he was captured so he was probably here by now. But where was he if not the brig?

Vhynias didn't want to leave until he found him, so he stayed put and waited for the ferret to come back. If he wants to find Tornear, he needs to play it cool. So, Vhynias tried to steady his breathing (he wasn't that successful) and waited.

Eventually, the ferret returned with a waterskin. She handed it to the fox who eyed it hesitantly. He didn't know if this ferret believed his disguise or not (especially considering a fox was killed outside), but then again, he also hadn't drunk anything for the entire day. His eyes went wide as he tipped his head backwards, letting the cool liquid flow down his throat. The fox sighed contently and wiped his muzzle with his forearm. "Feeling better?" The ferret asked earnestly.

"Um, yes. I think so," Vhynias muttered.

The ferret smiled warmly as Vhynias handed the waterskin back. "Boy, ye drank the whole lot o' it." She chuckled, holding the container upside down for effect.

"Heh, yeah," Vhynias chuckled awkwardly. "Well, thanks for the water. I'm gonna… leave." He stepped around the ferret and headed towards the door when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Actually, while yer here, I could use a beast o' yarr stature. Can ye come wit' me fer a bit?" She asked.

Vhynias glanced towards the door. "Oh, I'm busy. Gotta repair the hole in the brig, y'know?" He replied as casually as he could muster.

The ferret smirked. "Nah. Tiv put me in charge o' the ship. Ye gotta do what I say!"

"Oh, did he now?" Vhynias muttered, surprised.

"Heh, o' course he did, don't jest," the ferret hummed, apparently taking Vhynias' words as sarcasm. "C'mon." With no other choice, Vhynias followed the ferret as she exited the storage room and walked down the hall. Vhynias' eyes darted around nervously at the other beasts roaming around, but none of them paid him or the ferret any mind. Still, Vhynias buried his paws in his pockets, his fingers brushing against the knife he had stashed there earlier.

"So, what do ya need help with?" He asked as they reached a door.

The ferret sighed with irritation. "'Tis so annoying. Somebeast decided 'twas funny to stash my knife on the highest shelf."

Vhynias raised an eyebrow. "Hm? Can't ya get it yerself? Yarr not that much shorter than I am."

The ferret smiled sheepishly. "Bad back, y'know. I'm uh, I don' like bringin' attention to it, but these kind o' jokes hurt." She turned away, hiding her face in embarrassment.

Vhynias nodded and he couldn't help but emphasise with her. Or at least, he would've if she wasn't a part of the group that captured Tornear and possibly murdered Bolgash. "Heh, uh, I getcha."

"Thanks," The ferret smiled.

Vhynias forced a snicker and walked up to the door. Although he was worried about going into any room with her because it may be trapped or something, she seemed… rather placid. Still, he decided to exercise caution in case this was an ambush or some other thing. Bracing himself, he opened the door.

His heart immediately stopped.

"That's yer friend up there, Vhynias," the ferret whispered sweetly into his ear.

What had once been Tornear was now just a stiff brown clump of fur wrapped in a green cape. His body rotated gently in midair from where he dangled. The corpse's neck and face were puffed up and engorged while its vacant eyes stared dimly at the floor.

Vhynias simply stared. His entire body felt light and he couldn't breathe. The fox let out a whimper, his body trembling as he stared into those dead, vacant eyes. Tornear… I… what happened to-

In the next moment, Vhynias felt a searing agony in his side. He howled with pain and arched his back just enough to catch a glimpse of the ferret with that damn grin still on her face. Her jacket was open, revealing a small pocket for a knife which was currently jammed into his body. Vhynias pulled the small knife out of his pocket and swiped at the ferret. The pain stunted his aim, however, and he simply made a shallow cut along the ferret's bicep. Nevertheless, she let go with a yelp and Vhynias limped away.

The fox stumbled down the stairs and climbed out of the hole in the ship, snarling as the cold ocean water brushed against the stab in his side. Whatever grief he felt was quickly overwhelmed by self-preservation as he hobbled away from the ship.

His mind was so muddled and foggy that he didn't stop to wonder why nobeast was chasing him. All he knew was that he wanted to be safe. Tears formed in his eyes as pain burned through his body as well from the shock at seeing Tornear's corpse. He ran. He ran towards the one place on the island where he felt any semblance of safety.


Standing atop the Twilight Serpent's bow was Kajiir. The ferret levelled off their crossbow directly at the fox's head. They held their breath as Vhynias ran, fingers tapping the trigger patiently.

The fox hobbled north. Kajiir snorted with amusement as he watched the fox get farther and farther. He stayed along the shoreline, running with a purpose in one direction. Kajiir glanced down at the map they borrowed from Tiviko's room and nodded.

"Did he go north, like I thought he would?" Ayers asked almost too cheerfully from behind them. Kajiir looked back to see the ferret wiping her knife free of blood.

"Aye. He went nort'," Kajiir answered plainly. "Interesting, hm?"

Ayers smirked. "Aye, right. Y'know what that means?"

Kajiir's eyes scanned the map. The only thing directly north of the crash site was the temple. Considering Vhynias spent more time going around the ship and through the beasts working on the beach, he was likely heading there. The ferret's eyes narrowed. How many beasts were at the temple already? Huh. Marlus' deal with the vole actually worked.

"Ya shoulda seen it," Ayers suddenly spoke up. "He was tryna act like he was a part o' us. He even stole one o' our cloaks and-"

"A cloak?" Kajiir furrowed their eyebrows. "Whose?"

"Eh, that small fox. Whats-his-name, aye, him. He's dead."

"How far did he git inside d'ship?" Kajiir asked flatly.

Ayers shrugged. "He got far 'nuff to see Tornear's body, but I was guidin' 'im. Don't worry. Y'know, 'tis really messed up what Borsen did, eh? Like ye-"

"Ya didn't have to show 'im d'body," Kajiir growled. "Dat's a bit too far."

Ayers waved it off. "Eh, we're killin' 'em anyway. What's the big deal?"

"Ya know my taughts on d'matter." Kajiir picked up their crossbow and slung their quiver over their neck. "'Tis a bit early, but I'm gonna go an' check d'temple. If dat fox's runnin' back dere, odds are dat more're hidin'. Be right back. Take care o' Marls fer me. Make sure he's alright." With a short nod, Kajiir jogged down the steps leading below the deck. From her spot on the bow, Ayers could see Kajiir running north, following Vhynias' path towards the temple.

Ayers hummed in satisfaction. Not bad. That went pretty well all things considered. She glanced at her arm where a thin red line ran across her bicep. It wasn't any cause for concern in her opinion, so she simply grabbed the map, headed down the steps, and walked towards the infirmary. All that was left was for Kajiir to find the group that they and Marlus abandoned in the woods and head to the temple. With that, Vhynias Sharptail and anybeast who was at the temple would be as good as dead. She was sure of it.