Trench

 With a hearty laugh, Trench darted off to the left. His hefty steps would grow more audible— at least after Cherry’s indignant screech echoed behind him. She’d be fine, it was just a bit of light teasing after all! Hopping over a river of brambles, he’d take the opportunity of having an mostly open runway to check behind him. Armored merruffs were gaining, the large sail of a leviathan taking a sharp right. Good luck, Maddox! Another pair of maples went flying into the air, this overgrown fish was being quite liberal with his tantrum. You’re gonna need it, bud. With a chuckle, Trench turned his attention back to the three musketeers chasing close behind. Fortunately, the greenery would start to thicken back up to its prior state before they’d come upon the encampment. It would open up some room to dodge and weave— if he could get a break from the constant appearance of thorny brambles and nooks too tight to squeeze through. 

 “Rrrready!” A merruff behind him rolled his tongue, adjusting the shield at his side to face inward. The other on the far end of their path did the same, adjusting her shield with a firm nod. They lowered their heads, tucking themselves as far behind it as they could.

 He could feel his neck straining trying to twist it further, Trench struggling to swivel his head just far enough to get a good look at the scrawny merr between them. Huh? Ready? What does this guy think he’s ‘readying’ for? Whatever it was, he was sure his hide would be able to take the damage. It was fine.

 “Aim!” The sound of air hissing dug into his ear, Trench giving an agitated growl as he narrowly missed an oak. The bark scraped at his scales, it wasn’t enough to trip his paws, but it’d pulled him just that much closer to the trio behind him. Ok… maybe his hide would be sustaining some damage.

 A long pause, the rapid steps behind him an obvious sign they hadn’t left. Even after the hissing had stopped, they’d be just as persistent as ever which made sense but was really inconvenient for getting whatever this was over. On the great Augustus above— Trench tried to twist his head back to get a view of what the goons were planning, but his neck wasn’t entirely privy to snapping bones just for a clear image at something directly behind him. His shoulders were starting to burn, perhaps Cherry had been right about cardio strangely enough. Shaking his head and getting back on mental track, clearly running in a straight line wasn't going to do him any good, but the brambles littering the ground beside him weren’t looking too hot either. Though a clear spot would open up ahead and it was coming in fast… it did look like a bit of a squeeze however—

 “Fire!” Trench’s muscles sprang into action, kicking out towards the nearest gap in the foliage as sharp pricks of pain littered his hindleg and tail. Gritting his teeth at the pain, their toxin felt all too familiar as it trickled into its nervous system— puffer spines. Almost immediately the weight of his limp tail would fling him forwards, rolling down the shallow slope head first. What’s the point of scales if these darn things don’t protect me from squat! 

 Tumbling down, paws and webbed claws affixed themselves, three pairs and then some kicking just for good measure. No, no, absolutely not. He was not doing this game again, he’d had a taste of prison life and it was far more anti-climatic than he had hoped. Tensing his jaw, Trench grabbed whatever he could, and slammed his fangs down. A yowl split through the air, satisfaction soothing his wounded pride as a slippery tail squirmed in his grip. Their small ball of flailing limbs and snarls would grow— or at least Trench would. His teeth retracted, a hard beak taking its place. Carapace shattering everything in its path, trees careening down as those two extra sets of paws were flung off. Hearing them land with a loud “Oomph!” it was just whichever soldier he had clamped down on. Landing on his… flippers, Trench tossed the merruff high into the air. She’d twist, trying to adjust her body with a panicked squeal. Ah, how convenient. A deflated little pufferruff, this had to be good. 

 Snapping her back into his maw, he was careful enough not to swallow or crush her underneath his tongue. It was just a little scare tactic-... they’d be fine. “Now look’it here you coalition of dingy little—”

 “Pyxis! Kin of Pyxis!” A whiskered soldier would screech from below, eyes snapping wide. His partner shuddered behind him, tripping the soldier as he tried to scramble away. Their paws flew in the air, Trench so bewildered he instinctively  spat out his hostage. For how fast their chase had begun, it was finished with an even greater quickness.

 “H-hey now-...” How was he supposed to react to this... unearned fear? He hadn’t even been able to dangle their friend’s life over their heads! Trench stumbled back, watching as his former hostage took one look at him before immediately darting off. The merruff would sit there stunned, trying and failing to wrap his head around what had just occurred. Well… that was easy. A little too easy. There wasn’t use dwelling on this ‘Pyxis’ they’d lost their courage for, he knew well enough he had not a single clue what or who it was. Perhaps Maddox or the girls would have an idea, though it wasn’t likely. They’d be able to ask around… but by that response he’d just gotten, they’d have to be delicate with such a subject.

 “Maybe this shell ain’t so bad after all.” He mumbled, shrinking back down to his canine form. Plucking spines from between his scales, he’d let himself catch up on what he did know. It was a useful piece of info after all— about Pyxis, maybe… ah! “Maddox, you ol’ sardine. Prolly got your tail handed to you already.” There wasn’t a chance that stubborn fox was going to leave that hat behind, and for good-ish reason. Percy was a good kid, he had no qualms hunting him down. Anywho, a merruffs scent was hardly something to miss, Trench didn’t need a masterful sniffer such as Cherry’s to follow the scent of salt and metal.

 

 Okay, round two. No Cherry to screech, no Maddox to get his block knocked off, no Sylvie to… well, she’s fine…ish. Crawling on his stomach, Trench lowered his fin as his eyes narrowed at the encampment above. Maddox had said there were prisoners holed up somewhere, the merruff careful not to peek his nose out too far from the foliage. Even if it had been the echoing wails of fear, he couldn’t risk yet another chase. His hind leg still hadn’t gained feeling, it’d already taken long enough to just limp his way back over while also keeping an eye out for soldiers lurking around every corner. Maybe, he didn’t exactly see or smell any apart from the ones that had chased them, but one could never be too safe.

 Nothing looked out of order, but given time with no one screaming in his ear, his brow would furrow. It was still swarmed with soldiers but… How? There’s barely any room for half of them and yet there they are…

 Trench glanced over the field, Maddox’s other observation was just as true, there wasn’t a chance he’d get close enough for an in-depth peek. There was a chance however that the new form would work, but that would bring its own risks. He glared at his limp limb, if only someone had kept those spines in their own dang pelt. Turning his head back to squint for just a moment longer, an exasperated sigh huffed out of him. This would be a lot easier if he had Sylvie’s sharp eyes, maybe that nebulruff would even be able to sniff out a possible secondary encampment. Straining as much as he reasonably could before he went cross-eyed, the merruff could only for-sure make out an area dedicated to supplies. Crates and barrels filled with what he could only imagine was food and tools. Maybe our supplies are somewhere in there… It still crawled under his skin that everything Lily had gifted them had gone to waste just like that. It probably wouldn’t have done Cherry or Maddox any favors if they scattered lugging around heavy odds and ends, but it’d bother him all the same. Hopefully after this whole debacle, they’d reach the nearest village and spend some of that gold they’d gotten their paws on.

 Unless that had also been in their supplies. If that was the case… ooh, his blood pressure was on the rise. Cherry had better have kept some on her body somehow, and he knew well enough to split some of his between Maddox and Sylvie. The rest… admittedly went into their supplies but it didn’t change the fact he didn’t put all his eggs in one basket. After a few more scans and having to duck his head from watchful eyes, the merruff rolled his shoulders and groaned in agitation. If Maddox was in there he was either incapacitated or… yeah, that was about it. There weren't any chains that could hold him down this time, the entire camp should be on its head trying to wrangle him down. Probably is just the case he ain’t there, last time you got yourself tied up in a knot they were sure to complain about it. Maybe you’re not as rusty as I thought, you ol’ sardine. That boosted his moral just a smidgen more, his scans and that theory also telling him the hat wasn’t in their possession anymore. Maddox wasn’t there and he wasn’t leaving that hat. So, no hat? No Maddox, and vice versa. Though that did raise the question on why the encampment wasn’t in more shambles, he’d think a group of nebulruffs on the run would cause some havoc for the merrs trying to hunt them down. As if on cue, his favorite trio of nitwits would weave through the grass, still tripping over their own paws as they’d give yelps and shouts of warning. Real question is why it took them so long-... Trench narrowed his eyes before ultimately deciding the best course of action: Hightailing it out of there before they all got up in arms.

 Maddox is probably just heading towards the girls—... it’d be best if I met ‘em before another round of soldiers cause a ruckus. Now, where did he say they’d meet? Leviathan attack yada yada yada…. scurrying around… Cherry’s whining, yeah, sounded about right… hm. He knitted his brows together, glancing down towards his paws. Leviathan, Scurrying, Cherry. Leviathan…. Scurrying… oh no. No, no, no.

 You have got to be kidding me. The merruff’s claws had involuntarily woven into the earth, searching desperately through his memory for even a single hint of where they were supposed to regroup. Maddox had interrupted them, they got chased, had a few laughs and then just split up. There hadn’t been a plan, that had been a game. Cherry and Sylvie weren’t made for living out in the open, Sylvie proved that on their initial journey and Cherry… Cherry would just end up doing something stupid and getting them caught. Good intentions wouldn’t cure impulsivity, it’d be even worse if Maddox somehow did find them first with their tumultuous relationship. If he was even still out there to begin with. 

 He shook his head violently, shoving down that nagging itch of doubt in his chest with a final glance at the encampment below. Maddox had more experience with these types of situations, that was a fact. It hadn’t gone too well last time but it was better than the pure ‘Winging it’ mentality a certain someone lived off by. Eugh, the dread was getting heavier, crawling to the depths of his stomach like some sort of parasite that made his webs stand on end. 

 Why and how on earth did I let myself get like that!?  Growling to himself, he looked across the field to the decimated forest that leviathan had caused. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen him either…  Trench ripped up a patch of dirt as he tore his claws from its hold, shaking off what little he could and started his trip the long way around. A bad leg, two-... three lost friends he was supposed to keep charge of, and now an entire army was after them. Mira… That name still felt like acid on his tongue, teeth bared in a silent snarl. What do you think gives you the right to come back, to show your face again in another attempt after all these years? He could see it now, the queen towering over him, teeth bared in a perpetual look of disgust. Her had-been horns raised high as they curved around her scaled dome in a natural crown. She wouldn’t even give him past that initial snap to speak his piece, by now bits of him would be floating around as fish food. The doubt already broiling in his chest would only worsen, Trench becoming more worried that doubt was trying to become something else, something worse.

 He shook his head, now wasn’t the time to run around like a headless chicken. He needed to get to the others— at the very least Sylvie. His instincts were nothing to laugh at and during their talk by the river, red flags had started to appear, this same doubt in his stomach had lingered when she spoke. We have to have another talk, somewhere that isn't interrupted by Cherry or Maddox’s bickering, somewhere that doesn’t have her wanting to take flight and get herself into even more trouble. Just like in the marsh, she’d been anxious, sure, but she hadn’t acted so… reserved. Reserved? That couldn’t be the right word, she was always reserved. Timid? No, no… she was that too. Maybe… reluctant to share important information that could cha— Okay, y’know what? I’ll just speak the main points, whatever they’ll end up being, and leave it at that. Can’t beat around the bush with her, she already does that enough.

 Great, now Trench could take a long walk planning his talk with the withdrawn phoeline… as he talked to himself.

 

Sylvie

 Sylvie rubbed her shoulder, hissing through her teeth as ache thrummed throughout her entire right side. She could feel Cherry start to stir beside her, letting out a much louder groan of pain. The vines or ropes or whatever that had been— those were gone now, but had been replaced with a thick pair of shackles chaining their forepaws together in its steely grip.

 “Cherry… you alright?” Looking around, it’d take a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the inky blackness around them. Jagged stone encircled them, dark waxy vines crawling down the sides of the wall to pool around the floor. They weaved through each other, creating an artificial cushion that really didn’t break the fall, at least not as much as anyone could ever hope. There was no doorway, no vent, no tunnel, they were completely trapped with the gaping maw of an abyss hanging just above their heads.

 “Eugh… no.” The nebulruff snorted, twisting her head around in a vain attempt to scan their surroundings while she wobbled to her feet. “Sylv’s, boost those flames or something, girlie.”

 “Oh, sorry.” Mumbling the small apology, she’d feel Cherry discover their newest predicament as the other pulled on the chain with an even more aggravated huff. The phoeline glanced over her shoulder, waiting for her spacedust to slowly grow into a warm light to guide their way. It wouldn’t no matter how much she focused on collecting her energy to her tail, it wouldn't flare up. Not even an extra wisp. Odd…

 Fine, she could do it the old-fashioned way. Taking the deepest breath her little lungs could muster, she plugged her nose with a paw and sealed her mouth shut. She could feel pressure grow in her ears, screwing her eyes shut as her flames would finally start to grow. They crackled softly, feeling some graze over her face until she once again focused the energy to her tail.

 “Thanks! Now, where are we?” Sylvie stumbled around her, dragged along by the nebulruff’s moving paws while she wandered around the hollow. Cherry moved her paws over the walls with an inquisitive look, poking some patches of stone that stuck out from the wall. “Think there's a secret entrance? I’m not seeing another option.”

 Before she could even answer, Cherry dragged her back to the middle of the room, staring up into the darkness above them. “I don’t have my noodle dragon form… Do you think your cockatrice form is small enough to fly us out of here?” 

 Sylvie opened her mouth but the disapproving shake of the other's head stopped her in her tracks. “No, no… even your phoenix form would be too big and that thing is like-... tiny.”

 What’s the point in asking—?

 Her internal grumbling was interrupted by the sound of stone dragging along stone, the scratchy rumble digging into her brain until the phoeline slapped a paw over her ear. It wasn’t much help, her other paw firmly stuck to the ground as Cherry jumped to face the noise with a puffed chest. She quickly ushered Sylvie underneath her, tucking her neatly below her chest before facing the crackle of gravel skipping along the ground.

 They were… huge. Even bigger than Cherry, and she would dare to argue even bigger than Trench. A pair of lionesses stalked towards them, broadswords floating above their heads aiming at Cherry. An opening had been created, it was easy to assume some mechanism was in the works to keep them effortlessly trapped. They had much more dire things to contemplate as always, one of their captors standing idly in the doorway while the larger of the two began to circle around them. They had gleaming helms of silver, plates of armor strapped around their shoulders and forearms. Their weapons would move seamlessly through the air, always keeping their pointed edges facing Cherry.

 “I thought the scout said there was a phoeline? The little gray one.” The lioness circling them stopped somewhere behind them, Sylvie tucking her tail under herself while her eyes focused on the one in the doorway. 

 Her thick brows furrowed, lapping at her maw. Her eyes trailed down in thought before, unsurprisingly, they locked with her wide stare. “Ah, under the… the uh…” The lioness’s voice trailed off, scratching her neck with an unnecessarily huge claw.

 “Nebulruff.” The gentle reminder echoed behind them.

 “Yeah, the nebulruff. Sh… yeah, she’s under there.” She tilted her head, the cold glare they’d come prowling in with melting to an intrigued stare with raised brows and a flicking tail. “I thought Odin was the smallest a phoeline could get, but this one is so tiny! I think he’ll be glad—”

 “Sister.”

 “Oh, right… sorry.” Clearing her throat, the lioness puffed her chest with a quick salute. “Serious, professional… intimidating.” 

 Sylvie could feel the nebulruff shuffle above her, a growl rumbling in her chest. Her arm was yanked to the side as Cherry twisted around, barking a loud “Hey—!” until it was cut short by hitched breath. Assuming the worst, the phoeline snapped her head back with a fearful hiss only to see the lioness was carrying Cherry away by the scruff of her neck. Well— it was technically by her head and neck with how the lioness had grabbed her, but she didn’t seem to be in any pain. Just a little paralyzed, but that was instinct.

Sylvie was stranded on her own, watching as the chain elongated to match the short distance the lioness had carried her. That would have been useful when I was being dragged around… thanks chain. The smaller lioness stepped onto the vine platform, keeping her steps comparatively delicate despite the massive paws she adorned. Sylvie felt her nose press up against her ribs, taking up a third of her body while she sniffed her cloak. 

 “She’s got a bit of mana on her…” Commenting quietly to her sister, the lioness’s nose poked at her shoulder before sniffing around her face. “It’s around here.” A large paw came down on Sylvie’s head, squishing it into the ground. “Oh! Sorry, you’re just— really small. Can you lift your head?” The pressure would quickly release, the lioness taking a step back while her sister chuckled. Her sword would float beside her, giving a small poke at her hindquarter. “Ow- Stop that! I said I was sorry!” 

 The playful display was a note of interest, but Sylvie would play it safe and zip her jaw shut. She lifted her head, the lioness now more carefully aiming her paw to tap at the scarf around her neck. Her sister would set Cherry down and pad up to join them, her sword snapping in front of the nebulruff to keep her at bay. An annoyed growl left her, but Sylvie was grateful to see she knew better than to try to outrun a sword. She sniffed around the silk, glancing at her sister with a growing smile before poking the golden silk hanging from Sylvie’s cloak.

 “It’s around here. You had it right the first time.”

 “Ooh, dangit!” The lioness jumped, stamping her forepaws into the greenery underneath them. She paced around, muttering incoherent complaints to herself. The sword would remain where she had stood, moving to follow her little tantrum with a severe lack of emotion. Though Sylvie swore it felt… fond… ish. “I always get that wrong— why am I the one that has to search people?”

 “Because you’re much too young to be scouting, and much too inexperienced to be handling whoever may be coming through here.” The lioness trailed her, lightly bumping their heads together before setting a paw on her back. “It’s very weak magic, so don’t beat yourself up about it. Mother will be very happy to know that you at least smelled it this time.”

 “I had a stuffy nose that day!” 

 The larger sister would give a soft laugh, patting the others back before turning her head to face Sylvie. “Don’t mind Trixie, she’s learning.” She pulled away from her, Trixie grumbling even more while the lioness sat beside the miniscule phoeline. “I am Ruby. One of our mother’s scouts spotted you and your friend fleeing from one of Mira’s outposts, we were hoping you managed to escape there?” After a pause, she rolled her eyes with a small scoff. “I mean-... you had come from there.”

 The cats— the phoelines. These were the phoelines Maddox had mentioned during their chase. Her recognition seemed to have been noticeable, Ruby’s eyes lighting up with her. She lowered herself down, laying with her body stretching far beyond Sylvie’s. “You’re from there? You found a way to escape?” The lioness inched closer, nose ghosting against her own.

 Sylvie felt her heart twist, guilt weighing it down as she shook her head. Ruby frowned, but didn’t seem too surprised. “N-... no. No, we didn’t come from their camp. We stumbled on it and they found us. That's why we were running. But we did see—!”

 “We know.” The silence following the solemn response was deafening, Trixie bowing her head while the swords hovered lower. Taking a deep breath, Ruby ran a paw over the phoeline’s head, down her back. “Don’t feel bad, little one. It was a hopeful thought anyway.”

 “So what now?” Cherry’s stern tone echoed through the room, flinching as the sword beside her swung around to face her. Sylvie could tell by her quivering paws she was nervous, but her narrowed eyes would never leave Ruby’s. “I doubt you’re just going to let us go, so what are you going to do with us now? Keep us trapped here forever? Are these vines nebulruffs you’ve captured and used your magic to turn into some makeshift net?”

 The accusation was met with another long strand of silence until a sharp guffaw shot out of Trixie and was soon followed by her sister’s own polite laugh. The sisters giggled and wheezed, Ruby covering her mouth with a paw until she was able to bottle up the giddy laughter and cleared her throat. “Goodness, no! But I appreciate the creativity, we’ll keep that in mind for later.” With a wink, she continued. “ Of course, we can’t just let you go without mothers permission, but it would be difficult for a nebulruff and a fellow phoeline to get in any trouble down here. We can just check you in, Mother will probably ask you a few questions, and then you’ll be on your way!”

 Syvlie’s jaw dropped, Cherry’s reaction not any different. “Really?” The nebulruff whispered, looking at the two sisters as if they’d lost their heads. Sylvie couldn’t blame her, with all the back-to-back, consistent bad luck and being hunted it was… already so odd these phoelines were being so kind. She’d been expecting a fight when the lionesses walked in, now she had no idea what to do with herself. Was it really that easy? Just like that?

 The pair fell into a much more controlled fit of chuckles, sharing a glance before Ruby nodded her square head. “Yes, really. You three can quit it now— Olive! If Trixie hits you back I’m not going to save you!” Sylvie’s head snapped to see where she was waving her paw, watching the sword slowly creep close to poke the lioness again before Ruby’s warning grabbed both of their attention.

 Trixie immediately gave an offended hiss, batting at the sword while it quickly backed away. The phoeline’s slacked jaw dropped further as the handle stretched out to a long tail, four legs growing out while the blade twisted and inflated and fur began to coat its surface. In just a few seconds a tall phoeline had taken its place, giving Trixie a cheeky grin while he skirted around the edge of the hollow and through the doorway. The other sword and their shackles would transform as well, the phoelines’ tails held high as they followed Trixie out of the room.

 Cherry immediately stuck herself to her side, still looking around with a light sense of suspicion while they tailed the others. The lionesses raised their heads, giving a low roar that echoed up the ceiling. It’d echo quite a few times, Sylvie knowing well enough to know that this room had a ceiling, and it was far above them. Pawsteps sounded all around them, becoming a constant drum until lights would start to appear up the walls. It was tails, tails of all shapes and sizes that would highlight stone and moving legs. Paws came down on large mushroom heads, the fungi sparking into vibrant green luminescence. The air was sucked from her lungs, it was like stars start to poke into the sky as more and more phoelines slithered from dens carved into the walls. It was like clockwork, some phoelines lighting mushrooms that grew along the walls while their winged brethren made a short glide to a large spire in the middle of the clearing. Their claws dug into rock, smacking what fungi they could reach before running up or down stairs to reach every little source of light they could get their paws on. 

 Even for as massive as the room felt, there was just enough room for two phoelines to walk up and down stairs, most of the room being the circle of rocky ground around the spire. Sylvie could already feel her paws become sore from the constant scratch, wondering just how dry and tough the pawpads of the occupants of this space must be. It made her nose scrunch up, out of everyone… why were phoelines underground like this? Away from the sun’s warmth? It had to be due to Mira’s forces… there was absolutely no way this lifestyle was by choice.

 “Trixie!” A cacophony of high-pitched giggles and yelps snapped her out of her thoughts, litters of kittens stumbling over each other to collect underneath the lioness’s paws. They had bundles of the bioluminescent mushrooms tied around their necks, pawing and jumping around her with a myriad of questions.

 “How’d it go? Did you do good?”

 “Did you have to stab someone?”

 “Are they nice? Is there a neb-beb-ba?”

 “Do they have scales? Or spikies? Do they have flames like us?”

 “The scout said there was a kitty! A small one like Odin—!”

 “Hush! Hush now, little scamps—.” Trixie held up a paw, looking down where she was stepping before setting it back down. Her teeth were bared in a large grin, Sylvie flinching at the ginormous size of her incisors.

 Her sudden movement was caught by one of the kittens, his eyes widening with a loud gasp. Stripes waved down his ginger pelt, pale blue eyes piercing through the dim light. He smacked some of the other kittens, tail puffed out in excitement. “Look, look! Lookit! Another phoeline! It’s her!” 

 Immediately a dozen small paws would find their way over her, Sylvie weighed down as a cub set all of its weight on her back. Her already exhausted legs gave out, hearing the cackles of Trixie and Cherry as the small phoeline was smothered with soft fur. She spat out the wispy tufts, unable to do anything than cover her head as the litter crawled over her with light steps and curious noses poking into her cloak. A kitten nipped her ear, pouncing on her face before its small paws stomped on her snout to crawl over her head  and onto her back with the rest of the swarm. They had their own comments and arguments, an incoherent jumble of questions that would only start to die down momentarily as the unstable weight left her back and they all clambered underneath Cherry.

 “It’s a neb-bah! It’s so tall!” A kitten would paw at her underbelly before a lion cub barreled them over as they were chased by another. A small horde would be created, more and more kittens and cubs joining the chase and pouncing on top of each other until the newcomers were nothing but a faint memory.

 Sylvie quickly shot to her paws, shaking out her pelt as the giggles and squeals of delight moved further into the cave and up a flight of stairs. She felt Cherry wipe grit and leftover kitten fuzz from her, the phoeline swearing she swallowed at least a mouthful just from sheer amount of them alone.

 “So sorry about that, we don’t get visitors often— even less since we’ve gone into hiding.” Oh, good, it wasn’t by choice— well, it wasn't good good, but it was a relief to know they hadn’t turned their back on the sun. Living down here your entire life… It sounded miserable.

 “Don’t worry about it! We love wee lil’ babies, don’t we Sylvs?” Cherry seemed to have lightened up with the surprise visit of kittens, a grin having planted itself on her face.

 She nodded, keeping track of her pawsteps as Trixie led them up one of the two flights of stairs. They moved in a straight line, Sylvie feeling fur brush against her as phoelines tracked down the steps past them. The higher they went, the more fatal the fall would be. Even with their larger, more precarious steps, the lionesses didn’t seem too worried at the idea. The passing figures would give them lingering glances, pairs whispering to each other once they passed Cherry.

 “You’re quite the novelty, nebulruff. We never got many visitors even when we lived out there, and down here, well, we get them even less.” Ruby commented when they reached the midpoint of the staircase, at least six flights of stairs still ahead of them. Sylvie’s joints were all out thrumming with ache at this point, begging them to numb already.

 “Oh— Sylvie!” Cherry batted at her tail, feigning an offended scoff. “How dare you not introduce us, I’m Cherry and this is my best friend, Sylvie! We have two other fr… members of our party, they’re out there playing with Mira’s soldiers like a couple of goons. Maddox and Trench.” She upturned her nose, Ruby chuckling along.

 “I don’t suggest it, if they aren’t caught already, they will be soon. We haven’t lost too many, but for those we have there's been no way for us to reach them. An all-out attack would be lethal with how many soldiers are coming and going, not to mention such an open space and no one to watch the young. We aren’t even sure why they’re hunting us with such persistence.”

 “Yeah, we haven’t a clue either, just like we have no idea what the guys' plans are. Bunch o’ meatheads…”

 That would be followed by a small pause, Ruby’s voice much more thoughtful. “Do… you know where they are?”

 Sylvie could already picture the nebulruff’s pout on her face, Cherry glancing off to the side. “No… I don’t know if your scout heard but… I’ve already planned to knock some sense into them when we do find them. They won’t leave without us, especially Trench. For as stupid as what he did was… he’s not going to abandon us like that.”

 The lionesses made small hums of sympathy, Trixie nodding her head as Ruby spoke again. “Well, hopefully you have a good swing.”

 That earned a shared burst of laughter, Sylvie feeling the corners of her mouth upturn in a grin. They stopped at a small platform, the gaping maw of a large den awaiting them. The staircase would continue up just one more flight to the very top of the spire, vines hanging over its edge. Trixie would nudge them inside the cave, her and Ruby following them close behind as they took a few steps inside.

 “Mother, the guests.” Ruby murmured, a dark blob in the corner of the room shuffling to life. 

 Sylvie had thought the lionesses were huge, but this phoeline… She was monstrous. Most of her body was made up of dark burgundy spacedust, Sylvie trying to track her tail to gauge her demeanor only to find she didn’t have one. Only her head was fur, tan with black markings around her eyes and snout. Graying around the muzzle, two incisors would protrude far past her chin, one chipped. She had the mean glare her daughters could not possess, staring them both down while her gaze would slowly trail between the pair of them. 

 Cherry’s throat was dry, evident as she spoke with a raspy tone. “Hello ma’am—”

 “Brutus.”

 She paused with her mouth open, Cherry giving a slow bow of her head before trying once again. “Hello, Brutus, I’m Cherry and—”

 “I heard.”

 The nebulruff’s jaw snapped shut, Sylvie able to tell she was trying to keep a polite smile on her face despite the tension choking out the room. Sensing her wariness, Trixie took a small step up with a more chipper purr.

 “They’re just passing by, the scout was correct in his assumption. They’d been on the run from Mira’s forces and have other members who are currently keeping them busy, but this pair would like to be on their way as soon as possible… after the questioning.” She’d be careful to note, Brutus watching her with that same intimidating glower.

 “I see.” Her large head swung to face Cherry, looking her up and down. “Where are you from?”

 “Nowhere around here— a small island… I… don’t think it has a name but is south of here—”

 “Worshaw Isle.”

 Cherry blinked, brows flying up. “Oh! Well… yeah, sure! You clearly know the geography around here—”

 “How did you get here?”

 What was this lady’s problem? “We crossed the water-... duh, but then wandered into a town by the coast. It’s… a whole story that I’m sure isn’t important to you but we’re basically tracking my step-son and his friend with our other two members… yeah.”

 Brutus tensed her jaw, contemplating her words before nodding. “You’re right, I don’t care.” Her eyes would suddenly flicker to Sylvie, specifically the golden silk attached to her.

 “What does that do?”

 Her throat closed up for a moment, looking between Trixie, Cherry, and Ruby for support only to discover they would offer nothing more than supportive soft smiles. She took a small step forward, trying to ignore the fact that this phoeline could gobble her up whole if she really wanted to. “It’s…” How had Lily described it—? Was it just as simple as healing? “It can tend to wounds, it’s got some sort of spell or incantation on it…” Seeing the saber’s brow twitch up, she’d quickly add: “I don’t know how to use it, I haven’t had the chance or… or reason to really try…”

 Brutus waited a few moments before rising to her paws, the things practically twice as big as Sylvie’s head. How did she even walk up and down the stairs if her daughters had to walk along the very edge just to let others pass? Were they even related at this point? Her daughters were so kind and bubbly… this phoeline was absolutely terrifying and most definitely knew it. She cowered down as the massive figure stepped up, looking up at her with a flinch as she spoke.

 “Watch the nebulruff. Do not let any harm come to the Phoenix’s favored.” After the lionesses nodded, she felt the small pinch of teeth grab her by the scruff and pick her up. Great, now Sylvie could compare her body to the elongated incisors on either side of her and calculate just how easy it’d be to skewer her tiny little cat body. Even if the hold was gentle, the phoeline couldn’t help but imagine Brutus easily tossing her off the side of the cliff as she carried her out of the den and up the extra flight of stairs. Her entire body took up the staircase, the sound of fur brushing against the wall constant until she’d pull away to walk onto the spire. Sylvie’s tail dragged along the floor, the large phoeline having to bow her head to dodge the small stalactites. A large bundle of vines were at its center, seemingly the origin for all the plant life in the cavern as there was no other source to have been seen in the enclosed space. It shuffled, a pair of hazel eyes peeking out from the shadows until a phoeline’s head peeked out. They were just a bit larger than Sylvie herself, though their slouched posture would have their chin dragging along the vines that cushioned their frail body. Long whiskers hung from their face, eyes covered by matted wads of unkempt fur, she could even spot bald patches that littered the body still curled up in the nest of weaved vines. He lifted his head, movements shaky as the hint of bone peeked through around his cheeks and collar.

 “Bubbah…?” There was fondness in his exhausted sigh, the phoeline twitching his nose. “Is that you? Have… have they found Cordelia yet?”

 “No, Jarl.” Brutus set Sylvie down, stepping forward until she could settle herself beside his nest. The phoeline tapped her nose against his forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling away to settle her head against the ground. The aged phoeline— Jarl, quickly took his place, resting his small, frail jaw atop her muzzle.

 “Oh, how terrible…” Despite the context to their situation, a small smile stretched along his features. A weak purr rumbled in his chest, broken by small fits of coughing that made Brutus’s ears pin back.

 “I have good news, though.” She’d keep her words small, muzzle barely moving as it lifted just enough to murmur. Jarl didn’t seem to mind the jostle, ears quivering as if just keeping them perked up was taking monumental amounts of effort. “This phoeline… She's going to help you. She’s going to get rid of that pesky sickness of yours. Are you excited to eat? To have the kittens visit with treats?”

 “Oh, yes!” His tail flopped over once, the end of his gleeful response. “They’re so pesky… not even a single little vermin to chew on! I hear them looking for them though… you better be sure to-... to tell them to save me one.”

 “I will, Jarl.” Brutus wouldn’t move from her post, eyes snapping to Sylvie. “You. Do it.”

 She was frozen to the ground, helplessly looking at the other for more instructions. Do it? Do what? How was a strand of silk supposed to heal someone. She untucked it from under her cloak, bringing out the glimmering fabric. No matter how many times she flipped it in her paws or twisted it around, there were no instructions, not even an incantation to utter. It looked like just any other ribbon, if not a bit more glittery with a weird silky film covering its surface.

 “Wrap it around his neck… gently.” The phoeline would speak up, growling the last word as if Sylvies life depended on it— which she wouldn’t doubt if it did. Brutus watched her like a hawk, following her every movement as the small phoeline walked up beside a resting Jarl. He’d gone oddly silent, Sylvie wondering if he was even still there with them until he took in a ragged inhale that was followed by another phlegm-filled cough.

 She loosely draped it over his neck, taking one end to wrap it around it a few times in a silky scarf. Sylvie set her paws on it, waiting. 

 And waiting. And waiting. A minute went by that felt like an eternity. Brutus wasn’t instructing her on what to do next, and nothing of note was occurring. Her lips pursed to ask what to do next until a soothing warmth entered her aching pads. The ribbon started to glow, a gentle, comforting light that highlighted each patch of balding skin and clumps of dirt stuck in the phoeline’s fur. Sylvie could feel the aching in her joints dissipate, shoulders slumping with Jarl having a similar reaction. His broken breathing would slowly start to even out, the phlegm disappearing from his throat, and his perpetually furrowed brows relaxing. The phoeline’s head slumped to the side, a snore following after Sylvie slowly unraveled her silk and tucked it back inside of her cloak. She hadn’t noticed it at first, but Brutus had let her eyes close, nestling closer against the other phoeline as more and more of his weight was pressed into her muzzle.

 “Thank you.”

 Sylvie blinked, even if her hardened tone did little to change, she… felt good. That felt good. After so many experiences tearing her heart further and further down to her stomach, that little glimmer of delight would start to drag it back up to where it belonged. She’d actually helped someone, and didn’t need to get her fur torn off to do it. She’d helped someone in need, not done them a small favor. Helped. A smile started to grow along her face, Sylvie bowing her head. “You’re welcome.”

 She swore she could see the corners of the saber’s mouth twitch up before a curt roar echoed up the cave. Brutus flinched, still taking her time sliding Jarl’s head to his pillow of leaves before quickly trotting down the stairs to the front of her den. Sylvie gave the aged phoeline one last glance before running down the steps after her, spotting the running body of Ruby coming out from the hollow they’d entered in. 

 “Merruff! Just outside the den, he’s armed and reeks of Mira’s kind!” 

 Trixie had joined her side along with Cherry, Sylvie taking her place beside her nebulruff companion. Brutus tilted her head back, a low growl humming down the hollow that caused an immediate reaction. Phoelines walking out and about made mad dashes to caves and dens, grabbing a kitten or cub on the way. Only when the clearing was empty would the entrances close up, the lively hollow becoming a ghost-town within just a few seconds with nothing more than staircases leading up to the spire. The luminescent mushrooms would fade out with time, the only light source being Trixie’s and her own spacedust. It was terrifying how quickly everyone was just… gone. She couldn’t imagine it hadn’t been practiced countless times— had Mira’s soldiers really caused this much in such a short amount of time? They couldn’t have been here for long with how rudimentary their campsite was, right? Just a few lost phoelines and they were already so fearful? Well— everyone but Brutus seemed to be fearful, her fangs bared with a challenging growl.

  “Is he alone?”

 “Yes ma’am! Our scouts have yet to witness any surrounding soldiers. He’s on a solo patrol most likely.”

 “Cocky, mangy, snaggle-toothed mutts—” Brutus paced, barely taking a pause before she started to stomp down the steps. “Bring him to me at once! This may be our only chance to gather information, do not let him get away.”

 Brutus and Trixie charged ahead, bee-lining for the entrance. Cherry’s scent washed over her, fur pressing against her side as she lowered her head to whisper.

 “Sylvie, do you think…?”

 Oh, oh no.