Kes stood barefoot in the grasses, her eyes closed as she listened and expanded her senses to the world around. If she was the kind of person who worried about such things, she would have realised that she looked a bit odd. But she wasn’t the type to worry. Her head tilted back, face lifted to the sun’s gentle kiss. Long hair fell down her back like a pale river of spun gold. She wore a tunic that hung to her knees and a pair of leggings that stopped at the same point. A woven belt pulled the excess material tight to her waist, because it was clear that the tunic had been made someone much larger.

The fabric was well used, torn, patched, bleached by the sun and if she was honest with herself, a little grubby. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the means to wear nice clothes, it was just that they weren’t important to her.

Loose stones tumbled on the ground and she turned. A days journey from the sea, she had been surprised not to come across any strangers so far. Perhaps though, that good fortune had come to an end.

She wriggled her toes in the grass and planted her hands on her hips. Not far from the road, she was able to stand and watch as a travelling caravan approached. The woman lifted a hand, waving at the lead wagon and the woman who drove it. Kes smiled, displaying a row of even white teeth and the wagon seemed to slow.

They had a plan, a plan that had come undone when the law of the land exacted its toll and taught them both a valuable lesson in survival. They needed one another. Like it or not, the pair would have to work together if they ever wanted to return to the lives they had once led, or better yet, forge new ones.

A season in the north of Canelux had afforded them the supplies they had needed to repair the small boat they set off in from the eastern coast of the desert. That dreaded nothingness had been so easy to sail away from, especially after swearing never to return, only to be forced to endure its heat once more. Following the coast had allowed them to return in record time, though the journey had been no easier.

The kindest thing to do had been to unbridled their mounts and released the pair into the wild. The spirited black gelding and his faithful mare had wasted no time in bidding their riders a proper farewell, instead turning to race down the coast like thunder, not looking back.

Kes’tral and Wendell had pushed the repaired boat out onto the water two days later, wading through the shallow waves in order to cast off. Again they followed the coast, just deep enough that they could avoid the rough waves that rolled into shore. There had been stops along the way, for proper rest, food, water, and the chance to explore what lay beyond the coast.

Throughout their travels, they had learned how to disguise themselves, when was best to venture inland and how to exist in a state of quiet peace. Their bickering hadn’t exactly died down during the course of their travels, the pair usually finding something to disagree about, but they had found a way to set their differences aside when their safety was on the line.

Now they found themselves in what could only be described as an endless meadow of rolling hills and grassy plains, dotted here and there with thriving wood areas and young forests. Hunting was suddenly a viable option and with the arrows they had either purchased or traded for with the four armed people of Eyota, they had little to worry about.

Wendell had spent the last two days wandering about the plains, taking in all there was to see. This life on the road was exhausting, he had found, yet his soul had never felt quite as at peace as it did now. Wild herds of horses had caught his eye and the thought of capturing one filled him with quiet delight. It would be nice not to have to rely on their own feet for a change. With horses, they would cover more ground.

That morning, Kes’tral had chosen to stalk the woods, wandering along the roads carved by local caravans, established trade routes snaking through the grasslands in every direction. Wendell had chosen to tag along, though he let the distance grow between them. He noticed the woman waving to a caravan and paused on the edge of the road further back, only to catch up as the heavily guarded wagon came to a standstill.

“You best get out of here,” the driver warned, worried eyes surveying the lay of the land ahead. “It’s not safe anymore,” she added, “the ground… the ground has opened up and death walks the plains now.”

Wendell squinted. “We need some rope,” he called, “do you have any going?”

“For silver,” the woman agreed, nodding to one of her guards to fetch some for the travellers.

Wendell stepped forward to exchange silver for the rope before moving off the road again. “You have my thanks,” he said.

“Heed my warning, young ones, leave this place.” The wagon creaked as the horses towing it were ushered forwards. “Safe travels to you,” the driver called, and went on.

“And to you,” the pirate called.

Wendell looked at Kes’tral as the wagon passed, shrinking as it moved down the road out of sight. “We need horses,” he said, “there is a herd beside the lake we found last night.” He held up the rope, setting a silent challenge.

“What do you think she was talking about… death on the plains?” He asked, curious to see what Kes’tral made of it.

The warning from the caravan saw the smile fall from her features. As did the worry in the old woman’s eyes. Kes frowned, scanning the ladies features for deception. But she believed her. There was something dangerous in the plains. The caravan was happy to trade, but Kes remained silent and watched the wagons roll away, throwing up turf in their hasty retreat.

Wendy was indomitable, although these days she sometimes suspected that she knew him. At least, better then he thought she did. He held up his rope and she rolled her eyes. He wanted to catch wild horses to ride? Kes folded her arms across her chest.

“Not planning to have children, are you Wendy?” She said eventually, teasing. Without another word she started to stride in the direction he had indicated. There had been horses the night before, beautiful, wild creatures that had kept their distance.

Kes cast our her senses as they walked and her frown only deepened. With furrowed brow she paused at one point, pressing a hand to a tree before kneeling and touching it to the ground. “There is something,” she admitted. “Something sick within the land. But I do not know what. The woman was afraid.” Kes looked across at her companion.

“Perhaps we should also be afraid.”

Attie flapped her blue jay wings as she soared through the sky, looking for people to warn. She had seen many caravans of people who were abandoning their homes and fleeing for their lives. Her wings ached due to the long period of flying. Eventually, she had to land next to a herd of horses. Opening her beak, she breathed heavily and fell over due to exhaustion. As a blue jay she was able to travel around faster than if she was simply walking. However, that also meant that she had to have the endurance to get everywhere. There were so many people to warn and so much to do. 

Her bird form melted away as she morphed back into a human, frightening the horses a bit. She pushed herself to her feet and began to look at her surroundings. Instead of her wings being tired, it was now her arms that were tired. But if wings wouldn't take her anywhere, then her legs would have to do. Holding up her hands, she began to cast a spell to transform herself into a horse. A bright light erupted from her hands and began to swirl around her until she couldn't be seen. Soon the magic faded away and instead of a human, she was a black horse.

Looking around, she tried to figure out which direction she needed to go. 

Laughter. She had actually caused the man to laugh. Wow, he thought, Kes’tral still found ways to surprise him, even after a season of travelling together, in what he had considered a rather tense, forced, but mutual companionship. Theirs was a story of survival, tentative and naive.

“You doubt me.” Wendell smiled. “When you have seen and experienced how very capable I am?”

He spun the rope about his arm, allowing the rest to fall at his feet. Crouching, he wrestled with the tethered end, looping it about its snake-like form to tie and fashion into a lasso. With care, he collected up the rest of the rope and wound it up, the bindings held in his left hand while his right controlled the loop.

Wendell had an undeniable glint in his eye that said he was up to something. With a swift twist of his form and flick of his hand, the loop was launched through the air to catch a branch above Kes’tral’s head.

“Ha! See!” He boasted, standing a little taller in his boots as he pulled the lasso taut. “It works, now we just need a horse.” Wendell added.

He took pause, staring across at the thin, wispy woman before him, taking note of the way her clothes hung off her. She really was tiny.

“Hear me out,” he said, knowing how strange his plans often sounded, like walking through the desert to drag wood all the way back to the coast in order to repair his ship. “You can do that voodoo stuff,” he began, waving his fingers, as if to dust the pads free of sand. “Turn into a horse and get me close enough to capture one of the wild ones near the lake.”

Wendell grinned, yes, he was suggesting she let him ride her once she had taken the form of a horse. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Of course, Kes’tral would take some convincing, he was sure. “If there is something here we have to get away from, wouldn’t it make more sense to be on the back of an animal far faster than us?”

He thought about the idea of returning to the small boat. It was almost as painful as the idea of returning to the desert. “Or… we can get ourselves a horse each and ride that way.” He pointed in the direction the caravan had come from, “and see what all the fuss is about.”

Curiosity was a strange thing. Wendell certainly wasn’t a hero and, even though the idea that there might be people in need of help crossed his mind, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk his skin to save them. Of course, whatever sickness plagued this beautiful land, as Kes’tral had suggested, might need to be stopped before it had time to spread. Canelux wouldn’t be the same if everything died and turned to desert sand. The infection would spread and before they knew it, nowhere would be safe.

When had he last found himself so conflicted? Sooner or later they had to find a proper township and what little hope they had held onto about starting again, would finally become a reality.

Wendy laughed and she smiled in return, raising a pale brow in a precise arch. “I doubt you, because I have seen just how experienced and capable you are.” Kes retorted. She watched his display of prowess, ducking only slightly as the rope whipped overhead and snagged on the branch. She lent back, peering up at the knot before giving a small shrug of approval.

It was his next suggestion that had the smile wiped from her expression. Turn into a horse, so that he could ride her? The woman stared with an expression that could sever limbs. He was smiling, did he think that his suggestion was funny, or had any hope of convincing her. Kes turned without answering and started walking in the direction of the lake they had left behind, pausing to look over her shoulder at the man with a second withering look. “All this time together, and that’s the best offer you’ve got?” She scoffed and trudged onward, making no attempt to do any that voo-doo stuff.

Truth be told, Kes wasn’t even sure she could take the form of a horse. It wasn’t something she had ever tried, she tended to stay away from prey animals. Their thoughts were often confusing and filled with fear. “Two horses,” she told him once he realised she wouldn’t be changing her shape. “And then I ride that way,” she looked in the direction that the Caravan had come from. If there was something wrong with the world, then she was bound to try and correct it, somehow. She wondered if Wendy would come with her.

They walked in silence back to the lake, skirting around the edges of the water. Her bare feet left prints in the soft earth as they approached the wild herd. Kes kept her distance, splitting away from Wendy. He could use his rope, but she would use her own means to summon an animal. The woman simply stood, with her hands palm up and waited.

Attie observed the quiet peaceful lake for a while before looking around the area. She needed to find the direction to go. There were so many people to warn and so little time. Suddenly, she felt one of the other horses sniffing her ear and she quickly jerked away from the brown horse. The last thing that she wanted was to be mistaken as an actual horse by one of the herd. Attie moved further away from the herd and towards the water. Suddenly, she spotted two people walking towards the herd. Knowing that she had to warn them about the Eldritch abominations, Attie began to move twoards them. Her horse form was pitch black and her legs were ten times stronger than when she was a human or a bird. Just as she was about to reach Kes and Wendy, she spotted that Kes had a rope and realized that her in her horse form would result in her getting caught in rope. Determined to not get caught, she trotted away from the two so she could avoid their rope. 

Wendell scoffed, tired of Kes’tral’s verbal jabs. What made her so brave that she had already decided to run towards danger, he wondered. What if they couldn’t catch a horse? Would she still travel in the direction the caravan had come from? He rolled his eyes when Kes’tral’s back was turned, dragging his feet as he followed her. There was something about her arrogance that irked him. Why should I care, he thought, let her catch the horses.

The trek to the lake was made in silence, following a small path that had been carved out in the grass by some type of game, deer perhaps. He walked where Kes’tral’s feet fell moments before his own, surveying the rolling plains. How far did they go and did anyone live here? Wendell gave himself a mental kick for having the perfect opportunity to ask and instead throwing it away to trade for rope. “Idiot,” he mouthed, below his breath.

A rock near the lake would provide the perfect viewing platform for him to sit on while Kes’tral did things her way.

“Go on then, bird-brain.” He teased, climbing up onto the rock to sit. It was hot, having seen the most of the morning sun. Wendell sat and turned to face the action. “I want the black one!” He pointed, closest to his travelling companion.

Wendell watched the way the herd moved, fluid, as if each individual horse shared one mind, moving like water through the grass. His eye caught the jet black animal once more and he thought it odd that this one was singled out, not moving with the rest of them. Strange, did the black sense something the rest of the herd had not or was it the lead horse, hanging back to protect the group of them?

“That is the horse you must catch!” Wendell called.

Kes’tral looked back at the man as he made his demand. The pale brow arched again in a curve of gold before she scoffed. “Catch it yourself,” the woman retorted. She could see the black animal, it was a beauty but it felt off to her. Why, she didn’t know and unable to pinpoint the feeling, the woman found herself reluctant to approach the creature.

Instead, she continued to stand still. She bowed her head a little, making herself a small, non-threatening target. One of the closer horses eyed her. It circled, a brown mare with three white socks, the horse huffed. It approached eventually, circled her again with its ears high, flickering with curiosity.

It was then that she turned sidelong and the creature trotted forward. The horse nosed her hand, sniffing her fingers before Kes slid a hand down the war fur of its neck. The mare huffed, expelling her tension and rubbed against the blonde woman.

She went slowly, moving her hands over the animal. Stroking its nose, it’s neck and flanks. She explored the horses legs, checking for any sign of illness or weakness and finding none, it was then a smaller step to leaning her weight against the creature. The mares ear went back and it huffed again, taking a step back. Kes waiter, soothed the creature and explained, as best she could her intention. It was then that she managed to mount, swinging up onto the back of the animal. She nudged the horse forward, steering with her knees as they trotted over to Wendy.

Kes lent forward then, hands threading through the dark mane. “The black one?” She asked, “are you sure?” Her own mare let out a soft snort and sniffed the ground beside his leg. “I don’t…” Kes peered back at the herd and the black horse. “It’s not the one I would choose for you.”

Attie heard what Wendell called and knew that she was the horse that he was talking about. Panic flooded through her mind which made her panic even more. She couldn't undo her shape shifting spell if she was too freaked out to concentrate! She decided to try to move his attention away from her by leaving their sight. Trotting back over to the herd, she did her best to blend in, in hopes that they wouldn't be able to see her and would give up. There were many other horses after all! Attie was also using this time to calm herself down and work on undoing her spell. Why did magic always have to backfire?! Attie walked through the herd and stood next to a beautiful auburn horse. The horse was so pretty that anybody would choose it, or at least thats what Attie was hoping. She began to work on calming herself down.