The building must have been constructed some three hundred years prior, give or take. Not that Dilip cared overly much about it, but part of him could appreciate nice architecture when he saw it.

By which he was referring to what had become their clinic in Brielle, an old naval hospice for disabled sailors that had been built right in the middle of town, an L-shaped Neo-renaissance style construction that wrapped its bricks around a small snow-covered courtyard with a statue of a water nymph in its center, its tarnished brass head capped with a snowy white crown. Overall it was rather ornate, with the dark bricks of its walls decorated with bright white mouldings and ornaments. Though being intended for disabled sailors in a time where electricity wasn’t a thing meant it was built all on a single floor, a small clock tower still rose above it, the fresh coat of paint on it implying it had just been repaired.

Tightening the collar of his coat with his one paw, the Diamond-Dog momentarily stopped to look at the extent of the work they had done to the building from an outside view, his breath coming out in a fog from the wintry cold.

A tall antenna and a couple of satellite dishes sprouted from the roof, something they had added to ensure there would be a medical hotline of sorts to assist remote colonies in figuring out medical emergencies and keep enough bandwidth for video calls. Although most such calls usually went through WSU Radio before being dispatched there, given most folks, they didn’t keep much contact with each other, but usually kept in touch with the world thanks to Sandra.

Along with that, a trio of repurposed containers and a couple of greenhouses occupied the edges of the courtyard. The former held their most high-tech bits of lab equipment whilst the latter served as a steady supply of common herbs both magical and mundane.

Knowing how hard it was to source actual medicine, herbal cures and potions were both a necessary stopgap and a godsend.

A gust of wind blew through, and Dilip found himself biting back a very canine (and inappropriate) whine as his ears folded against his head from the biting cold. The pariah dog may have fur, but it wasn’t thick enough to offer much protection against the wet, cold chill of coastal winters. Deciding he’d rather be out of the cold, he made his way past the courtyard and towards the street-side of the building where a pair of reclaimed ambulances sat, the main entrance.

In there he was greeted by a fairly mundane – if a bit makeshift- waiting room with a row of chairs occupying one side of the room, and a desk on the other in front of several doors leading towards various parts of the clinic. On the walls, a few dozen pictograms had been hung with various tidbits of health-related information for the three-dozen or so species folks commonly returned as. Next to the desk, a short quadruped-height table was filled to the brim with leaflets addressing topics going from fur-care to sex-ed.

It also smelled strongly of chemicals and disinfectant, something Dilip’s canine nose was quick to remind him of with displeasure.

He paid it no mind, he’d had enough months as a D-Dog to dull strong reactions to sharp scents.

The room was empty, save for the goshawk griffon behind the desk who immediately stood up upon noticing the Captain enter the building. His Captain.

“Cap’n!” The griffon greeted sharply in a Russian accent.

“Good morning Boris.” Dilip nodded in greeting, deciding to go for familiarity as he shrugged off his coat and went to hang it on a peg near the entrance. “Fine day isn’t it?”

“Yessir. Clear skies and little wind, anyone with wings could tell you that. I’m sorry sir, we weren’t expecting you for another hour or so, I’m afraid Doctor Delacroix is still on Rhine Forest preparing for their next voyage.” the griffon apologized.

Dilip’s stump twinged at the thought. The constant supply of healing potion meant his arm was slowly regrowing… but the process was dreadfully slow.

“I’m aware.” Dilip nodded, idly tilting his head to the side ever so slightly to peer at Boris’ paperwork. “But since I’ve been going around the colony checking up on everything we’re doing, I felt dropping by a bit earlier might help. Is Vadim here?”

“In his office going over his err… research projects? I think?” Boris hesitated. “I’m just here sorting patient files and studying.”

Dilip looked at the griffon with more interest. “Studying?”

“Yes sir. We don’t get many patients around except for some medical advice and the odd injury, which are a quick fix with potions. So since medical is our place of duty when ashore, well...” He shrugged with his wings. “Makes sense to try to get better. We have a lot of species around the colony, and you treat them all the same way. Griffons for instance. Two hearts, one for flying. Makes it a puzzle to figure out blood pressure. And don’t get me started on dragons. I have it easy really, I’m just the assistant, so I just memorize what Vadim, Lilian and Camille figure out.”

“Lilian and Camille?”

“Sorry sir, I meant Dr. Shepperd and Dr. Delacroix.” Boris clarified.

Dilip nodded silently. “Good on you for improving at your job. I can certainly appreciate people finding themselves shoreside jobs for when we’re in port. We need it. That aside, before I go and pester Vadim… How is Tanya? I presume she’s with your eggs?” The Indian politely asked as he moved towards the hallway he knew led to Vadim’s office.

“She’s… sorting paperwork. We do our best to always have one of us keeping an eye on them.”

“Aren’t they safe enough while in Brielle though?”

“Instincts sir.” The griffon shifted. “Doesn’t sit well with either of us leaving the… err... nest unattended.” The Russian finished, seemingly struggling to find the right word towards the end. Dilip couldn’t help with the frown that appeared on his muzzle.

“Sir I-,” but Dilip cut him off before he could start by raising a paw.

“It’s okay Boris. We’ve known the issue would spring up eventually, and it’s a hurdle we’ll have to get past, somehow. I know I’m all business sometimes, but common sense can’t really have me force new parents to leave their...” He trailed off. Was it chicks or cubs with griffons again? “… hatchlings unattended. When are they due to hatch?”

“Around Mid March if we’re correct.” And they weren’t due for an expedition before June… but the hatchlings would still only be months old by then.

“I… am still looking for a solution I’m afraid, Boris.” Dilip admitted. “Were you any other species I’d say it’s a pity but one would have to stay here in Brielle while the other goes, but you griffons work differently, right? Can’t have you bring the hatchlings along either… No time for them on a ship.”

Really, Andy had been a special case because Vadim and Micha’s adoptive child, though young, was old enough to be somewhat self-sufficient, and even then she always had one of the crew keeping an eye on her. And that was one young griffon to take care of that had proved tiring to raise for both his Second and Third Officers.

He paused his train of thought when he saw Boris straighten himself up as if he was steeling himself for something difficult, muttering a few words in Russian before he addressed his Captain.

“Captain… it’s hard for me to say but… maybe mated griffons can be split up.” Boris said with a wince as if the words physically hurt him. “I know it won’t be easy, but we’re not really paying for the satellite bandwidth we use, right? So if I could keep in touch regularly, then maybe?”

Dilip smiled lightly. “Thank you, I appreciate the offer. I’ll see what I can so it doesn’t come to that, maybe get some transfers from another ship, but we’re so hard pressed on personnel it might not be possible. Or it will be. Things can change fast, but I’ll do what I can not to put you in that position. Thank you for your time, now...” He turned back towards the hallway. “Vadim.”

And on that word he walked off into the hallway and disappeared behind a corner, leaving Boris alone with his thoughts in the lobby.

Which was about the time Boris noted his superior had actually called him by his first name.

Now that was new.

Were it not for Mikhail’s quick reflexes, Pavlos’ life might have come to an abrupt stop that day. The feral dragon reacted near instantly the moment the thrown spears entered his vision, moving his body with shocking speed to form a wall of muscle and scales between the more vulnerable gargoyle and their attackers.

The stone spears shattered on impact with his sides, barely leaving a scratch on his scales as he let out a thundering roar in the general direction the spears had come from. Their foes were statues, not in that they froze up at the roar, but actual animated statues of African warriors risen to life much like the stone elephant outside the museum.

They barely reacted at the roar, facial features remaining motionless as the hunting party of five advanced in a semicircle towards Mikhail and Pavlos. As one, they put a hand forward and the pile of dust and shattered stone that had formed from the spears reshaped into weapons and flew back into their open palms.

At about the same time, Pavlos finished dispelling the mage sight spell on his goggles and brought his machine gun to bear.

Mikhail felt the cold trickle of a noise canceling spell wash over him a fraction of a second before the muzzle flash of the gun lit up the hallway and battered the stone constructs with a hail of 7.62.

It was… less effective than either of them would have expected. Sure, the bullets didn’t bounce off and even those that ricocheted still chipped stone on impact… but statues don’t have innards or muscles to cripple, so beyond a few dozen holes in their chests their attackers were unconcerned by the attack.

Which left them free to respond in kind by throwing their spears again, forcing Pavlos to duck back behind Mikhail’s bulk for cover, the dragon having as little concerns about the projectiles as the statues did about Pavlos’ bullets.

“Alright, this is silly...” Another spear impacted his neck harmlessly before the dragon released another roar. “Screw collateral damage!”

And with that mental declaration, he leaped at the statues, claws out, tail lashing.

The tribal statues jumped aside to dodge. Three of them did. The other two… one caught a swing of Mikhail’s claw and went flying into a display case, shattering wood, glass and artefacts, while the other found itself skewered on the tip of the dragon’s tail before a flick sent it joining its brethren.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a flash of leathery wings as his gargoyle friend made space and got behind cover, but he didn’t pay him much attention, feeling a red haze of draconic fury flare up in his mind.

He didn’t fight it.

The statues he had thrown rose up, their stony surface chipped from the force of the impact. They joined up with their brethren.

An electric-like arc of wild magic formed up between them. Some artifacts had been damaged already.

It didn’t look like they were going to give up.

Good.

Mikhail snapped his jaws in anticipation.

The spears went flying again.

He merely made sure they didn’t strike his weaker wing membranes or eyes before lashing out as well, jumping in the middle of the fray to crush a statue beneath his bulk before catching another in his jaws and sending it through a window with a roar.

One tried to jump on his back, grabbing at his saddle and back spines for purchase.

He just rolled over once before an open swipe of his claw bisected it. The remains were then thrown at the remaining two statues. He coiled his neck back before roaring again at the remaining two.

They didn’t throw their spears this time at least, deciding to split up instead to try and attack from the sides and maybe draw blood from his wings.

It didn’t work. Mikhail simply opened the appendages halfway and beat them down with such force he rose up to the ceiling, crushing some ceiling lights against his back and showering the museum’s displays with glass before he pushed against the ceiling with his hind legs and dove down on one of the statues with the strength of a freight train, crushing it under one claw so hard the floor tiles cracked and two nearby display cases fell over and spilled their contents.

The statue, in turn, turned into rubble.

Keeping his momentum, Mikhail rushed forward at the other one and crushed it with a snap of his jaws.

It was over in all of thirty seconds.

“There!” He called over his mental link. “Seems to be all of th-”

His train of thoughts was interrupted by a spear pinging off his snout.

“Missed one?” Pavlos asked with a wave of inquiry. The gargoyle was still behind cover.

Mikhail scowled, squinting at the lone statue standing next to a broken display case, this one harboring battle damage and missing an arm.

“Probabl-”

Its other arm extracted itself from the display case and levitated back to its owner, reattaching itself.

“Oh come on...” Mikhail rolled his eyes in annoyance. “They’re like Timber Wolves! They just get back together when you break them.” He told Pavlos.

“Ah...” The gargoyle peeked out from his piece of cover. “That’s… not very convenient.”

“You don’t say.”

The statue threw itself at him. One second it was charging in one direction. The other, it was sent flying the opposite direction with a dull ‘thwack!’.

“Mikhail?”

“Yeah, you got a plan?”

“If it counts as one.” The reply came with the mental equivalent of a shrug. “Seems like it’s only five of them, you think you can keep them here?”

Mikhail huffed.

“’course I can.”

“Good. Errr… go ahead and vent on them then. I’ll be finishing my scans of the area while you’re at it.” Pavlos said, the gargoyle cautiously leaving his piece of cover before he headed off down a hallway.

“I guess that’s what we’re here for, yeah.” Mikhail acknowledged.

Another statue climbed back from the window Mikhail had thrown it through.

The dragon felt almost guilty when he threw it back out through another unbroken window.

Pity the sound of breaking glass was so satisfying then.

“Good. I’ll be over yonder photographing the nexus. Meet you outside by the flying urinal when I’m done. By the way… I wouldn’t touch any artifact. Could be dangerous.” Pavlos advised before his side of the mental link went dull.

Mikhail glanced down at a chipped tribal mask that was leaking blue smoke from its eye holes.

No shit.

Even though Aleksei hopped off the McDonald's sign as soon as she saw the group of returnees start running towards her, there was still some time before they got there. With a flap of her wings, the hippogriff alighted on top of an abandoned car and quickly ran her talons over her clothes in an attempt to smooth them down.

Key word being attempt. No matter how hard she tried, a choice of attire consisting of cleric robes and a military chest rig would always raise eyebrows no matter the crowd. She did however make sure her rifle was well and snug in its sling across her back.

No need to raise an alarm by ostentatiously flashing a gun.

Sri and Bart were quick to join her a minute later, although given the looks of the former and how she was trying to rearrange her clothes, the couple probably had been doing more than car repairs in there.

Hey, at least that meant her fellow hippogriff had a healthy relationship. As a fertility cleric, that ought to mean she was doing a decent job, right?

“Four returnees. Two Ornithians. Two deer.” Aleksei filled them in. “Non hostile, unharmed, tried to get my attention with a flare. Judging by the area, recent returnees.”

“Could be travelers?” Bart countered, one of the unicorn’s ears swiveling as it caught a few words carried by the wind up ahead of them.

Not a language he recognized.

“Unlikely. Not geared enough. Barely equipped even.” Aleksei replied. “As in, clothed at least, but not much more.”

“In that weather, good for them.” Sri shuddered, holding her wings closer to her frame as a gust of wind swept through the parking lot.

There was a brief pause, then the quartet of returnees rounded the corner. There was the male Ornithian with the flare gun Aleksei recognized, one with a tall crest of dirty yellow feathers, a broad black beak and a bright pink parka. Then behind him came the second Ornithian, a green male with somewhat more muted colors and a thick felt coat. Though they were thickly clothed, they didn’t seem too warm, the cold didn’t really suit creatures intended for warmer climates like Ornithians. Parrots and macaws never were meant for snow.

The other two of their group wore notably less clothing. Contrarily to their companions, deer were far better equipped to fend off the winter, and it showed in that they seemed far less affected than their parrot friends.

Aleksei would readily admit she wasn’t as familiar with Everfree Deer as she should though. The last one she’d seen dated way back to when they had sailed to Savannah in the US, and although reports said they were common enough here in Europe, those two were the first she was seeing with her own eyes in a while. They were roughly in the same size range as ponies, if a bit taller (antlers not included) and with a lither build than their equine counterparts. At a glance, they ought to come up Aleksei’s neck, and she knew she was both tall for a quadruped as a hippogriff, and because Epona had made her taller when she became a cleric.

Makes sense. She thought. Better suited for traversing forestry. What magic did deer have again? She frowned lightly in thought. Ah right. Attuned to nature, and an innate talent for alchemy. A bit like Zebricans in a way.

And of course, contrary to ponies and so many other species, their color palette was more browns and greys than other species. One of the two was a doe with specks of white on her auburn fur wearing a woolen cap and a woolen coat adapted to her form, and the other one was a young dark brown stag with sharp orange eyes, clad in a simple denim jacket. Evidently, he didn’t mind the cold.

Their group stopped a short ways in front of the WSU trio.

“Moien!” The stag greeted, receiving looks from the parrots accompanying him.

There was a pause. Sri and Bart looked towards Aleksei expectantly.

Right. She stood up on top of the abandoned car.

“Hello! I’m sorry, does any of you speak English?” She greeted back, mindful to enunciate clearly.

Not that she couldn’t put up a translation ward, but she’d rather save herself the time and components.

She wouldn’t need to. The group in front of her clearly understood her, and one of the parrots – the green one- flashed the stag a winning grin, to which he responded with a mildly irritated glare.

“Yes we speak English.” Said parrot spoke up with a distinct portuguese accent. “It’s great to finally meet someone. We thought we were all alone here.”

“That’s usually what people think when they Return, yes.” Aleksei nodded. “How long have you been here for? I assume you were together when it happened?”

“Three weeks… we think.” The parrot hesitated slightly. “Sorry, it’s a bit hard to keep track of things. Did we travel through time?”

“About eight months. Today’s the 24th, January 2016.” Bart spoke up to clarify. “But I don’t think we’ve introduced each other. I’m First-Chief Corporal De Mesmaeker.” He said, taking a step forward.

Aleksei threw him an inquisitive look, to which the unicorn replied with a small smile. ‘Full title’ He mouthed.

“Oh so you’re from the military?!” The doe exclaimed before shrinking back, abashed at her outburst. “Sorry, I’m Gabriel. And my name… yes I was. Male.” She said the last word in a whisper.

That earned her looks of sympathy from Sri and Aleksei. Sure, they had gotten used to the change, but it had taken them a while to get over it and keep things rolling.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Aleksei comforted. “Sri and I were in the same spot as you. I can’t say it’s easy, but you get used to it.”

Sri coughed into her talons, choking back a laugh at that. As if the reason they were this far from Rotterdam wasn’t because she had a quest to get back her manhood. The cleric just threw her a mildly annoyed glance. ‘Don’t start’.

“And for the record...” Aleksei continued. “… Bart here is the only one from the military, not that there is one left. We’re from the Merchant Navy… or the World Seafarer Union would be more correct these days. We’re a fleet operating from the port of Rotterdam to help set up colonies and keep the world going.”

“Why the guns then? And I’m Andre by the way. Construction worker.” The green parrot squawked, proudly jabbing a thumb-talon against his broad chest.

“We were all working construction.” Gabriel pointed out. “Same company, just… coming back to the offices after work when it happened.”

“I wasn’t!” The white parrot in the pink parka protested. “I was in HR! If I hadn’t needed to get the papers from your site I wouldn’t be here!” He squawked at his companions, feather crest flaring before his features shifted abruptly into a polite smile addressed to the WSU sailors. “Francesca Silva by the way.”

“Oh?” Gabriel tilted her head and trotted over to the parrot, annoyance in her tone. “And where would you be then?”

“Well maybe I’d have been with someone useful.”Francesca haughtily tilted his beak up.

Then the two launched into a verbal fight of who could sling the most insults at the other in Portuguese or Luxembourgish.

That had Aleksei’s feathery brows raised, and judging from the aggravated looks of the two others, it wasn’t the first time this happened. She turned her head towards Andre, the duller-colored of the two parrots pinching the bridge of his beak at the display.

“That happen often?”

“Unfortunately. Hard to tune them out too. Bloody loud.” He shook his head before walking a few steps away from the noise of the arguing pair. Aleksei followed, hopping off her abandoned car. “Sorry about them, it's really great we're finally meeting new people.”

“Likewise. If you want the hard figures, the population left on the planet at the moment is only about... one in ten thousand.” Aleksei told him, spotting the stag of the group moving to join them.

“So few?”

“It's... complicated to tell what happened. We're well-informed on this, but usually when we meet new groups, it's a couple hours to tell them in detail. And that's with slideshows and computers helping.” Aleksei continued. “To keep it simple... Everybody disappears one day because magic reappeared, then we all pop back gradually as time passes. Estimates say it will take 10,000 years for everybody to come back, and because the world has changed, we can't come back as humans, since they die when exposed to magic.”

“What?! Ten thousand years?!” The stag exclaimed.

“Unfortunately. You could wait for family and friends to reappear where you knew they were, but you could spend your entire life there without them showing up.” Aleksei shook her head. “We reappeared on the first day with our ship, and we've traveled a lot before we settled a base in Rotterdam. The world is dangerous these days. There are bandits profiting off isolated people to serve them. Monsters. Cultists. I mean... Look at me.” She waved her talons. “The Gods of Old are back, and I pledged fealty to Epona, a Celtic goddess of fertility.”

“Is that why you're bigger than the other hippogriff?” Andre pointed a digit towards Sri who was seemingly trying – and failing- to break up the argument between Francesca and Gabriel.

“Yes. Pledging yourself to a divinity usually comes with some transformations... although I think in my case it's more extreme than others. Comes with magic too.”

“Alright... I get that. No, I don't. But I will.” Andre crossed his arms with a frown. “But what are you guys doing here then? If you have a base, why come to Luxembourg?”

“Pass through Luxembourg is more like it.” She corrected him. “We're headed for the Black Forest.”

“The Black Forest? I'm sorry if I sound daft – I'm a bit behind in terms of information- but you just said there are monsters and Gods. Isn't the Black Forest the exact kind of place you'd want to avoid?”

“Yes, unless you have a specific reason to get in there.” Aleksei conceded. “In our case, our ship isn't due to leave for a couple months, and my goddess gave me a quest to locate a wizard that's supposedly hiding in there. And it is dangerous. I've been there once already, and the wolves were the size of a car.”

Somehow, despite the green feathers, Andre managed to pale.

“I guess that does explain the guns.”

“Sorry if you hold beliefs against violence, but I think these days the difference between armed and unarmed is the same as alive and dead. You definitely should get some, though in the heart of the EU, good luck with that.”

“I figure the Grand-Ducal palace at the Capital should have the guards' armory. If we can crack it.”

“I wish you the best with that. We came in to the country from Belgium and... to be fair with you, your country is stuck between several huge enchanted forests. You will need to defend yourselves.”

“Not – my – country.” Andre gave her a hard look. “I'm Portuguese, not Luxembourgish.”

“Well... if that's a comfort to you, we have a solid dozen Portuguese folks in Rotterdam.” Aleksei offered. “I can't say we ever got words of colonies in Portugal though. They're all sailors that reappeared on ships, so if you need kinship, the Netherlands is a good place.”

“I'll... keep that in mind.” Andre said noncommittally after sharing a glance with his stag companion. “You did say we're stuck between enchanted forests, and unlike you, our van is...”

“You crashed it when you reappeared didn't you.” Aleksei guessed.

“Gabriel was behind the wheel. Hooves you know.” Andre shrugged.

“Happens to most vehicular reappearances anyway. Aircraft are the worst off in that case. Say, we stopped with our Land Rover in the shop to give it a once over. Would you mind if we moved on inside? I can't say hippogriff feathers are much good against the cold, and it's also better if I have a computer along to bring you guys up to snuff.”

The two paused, glancing over to the rest of their companions, seeing Francesca and Gabriel still trading insults while the rest either made sure they kept apart, or shook their heads in dismay.

“Though to be fair, the Netherlands would be an improvement after these two.”

“Sure is a runner isn't he?” Rodrigo grunted as he pulled himself over a fallen tree trunk covered in snow, kicking up a small white cloud as he jumped off on the other side.

“No kidding.” Veillantif replied.

Though the Earth Pony of the knightly duo had less difficulty traversing the terrain – plodding through the snow seemingly effortlessly- he was no less slowed by the bulk of gear and armor than his unicorn companion.

It was... mildly aggravating at least. The trail of blood left behind by the injured dire wolf didn't abate and was fairly easy to keep an eye on, but the huge canine was either moved by sheer adrenaline, or simply less impeded by its wounds than Rodrigo had first assumed when it ran off.

It had been over three hours now since the 'duel' in the clearing (if that could even be called such), and the two ponies were still hot on the trail hoping their quarry would lead them to its den.

Needless to say, even Rodrigo was now losing faith in his initial plan. The Black Forest, treacherous as ever, was running them ragged as they plowed through snow, trees and various obstacles with little sign that the trail was slowing down.

“You know...” Veillantif commented while glancing down at a trekking GPS they used not to get lost. “... at this point I'm not sure the wolf's even headed back to the den.”

“Neither am I. But it's not like we can just let it get away either way. We're supposed to get rid of the pack so the farmstead down in the valley is safe.”

Veillantif halted, looking backwards.

Needless to say, the valley in question was far behind them now, its only indicator being the thin plume of smoke rising up above the treetops to the north.

“Fair enough. No strays left behind. We're eight kilometers away for your information.” Veillantif noted, pocketing the GPS before catching up with Rodrigo at a brisk trot.

“Noted. Warn me if it's more than twelve. I want to get back before nightfall, even if it's empty-hand- err, hoofed I mean.” Rodrigo told, not tearing his eyes away from the trail.

And on they went. Tailing the wounded wolf as it got increasingly further from the clearing they'd fought it in, past a small frozen brook and a narrow valley, and a bit of heathland.

Then, just as they were trudging through a particularly thick bit of snow, they heard howling, only a few hundred meters ahead of them. The two ponies paused, then they heard the commotion. The woods flashed with a sickly green glow – magic- and they heard a few blasts before the howling died down in a pained whimper.

Then came a long, drawn-out cracking as a pair of trees collapsed, the smell of ozone and charcoal carried towards the duo by the wind.

The forest was quiet again.

Rodrigo and Veillantif looked at each other in surprise before they raced forward. Unfortunately, by the time they actually barged into a clearing that might have been a crossroads at some point, the action was long over. Here and there, churned dirt and melted snow broke up the snow with a dirty brown hue, the magic impacts reeking of ozone.

And on the opposite end of the clearing lay their quarry, buried beneath a pair of fallen trees. The dire wolf was definitely dead, a bowling-ball-sized hole seared into its chest, adding charred flesh to the smell of ozone which made both equines fold their ears in distaste.

But no sign of who or what hunted their prey.

“Well... what now?” Rodrigo worked his jaw, a scowl on his muzzle. He scoured the clearing with his gaze, finding no sign as to who had done that.

“Guess it's back to the farmstead for now, right?” Veillantif joined him in front of the dead dire wolf. “Seems like who did that wasn't in a hurry to meet us. Strange though...”

“That they'd take off like that? Yes.” Rodrigo sighed, before then deciding to go and cut the wolf's tail.

He wouldn't claim a bounty on it at the farmstead, but at least that was one less to deal with. They still had an extra day to deal with the pack before their estimations said they really needed to get a move on unless they wanted Baba Yaga to catch up with them. Already, snow was starting to fall, beginning the process of erasing traces of the fight in the clearing, covering the carcass.

Then Veillantif called him over as he was shoving the wolf's tail in one of his pouches, pointing a hoof at...

A set of footprints.

Foot-prints.

Author's Note

And... there.

Took me long enough didn't it? Sad to say, I don't have a quarter of the free time I used to have when writing tome 1, so it's a lot slower to put out chapters.

But it gets there eventually, so it's better than having an abandoned fic I guess. I've always hated those when on the reader side of thing, I can at least *try* not to wind up on that side of the amateur writing sphere.

Plot-wise... things are getting murkier in the Dark Forest, and poor ol' Rodrigo will have to balance mysteries being unveiling in front of him, and Baba Yaga hot on his tail. And Aleksei's soon to reach the forest too.