The cloth covering Tree Keeper had transformed upon his leaving the forest, which bore a name he’d not known. A sign outside called it Waywin Wood. Tree Keeper smoothed the red jerkin over his brown tunic and shrugged his shoulders under a gray cape. The leather boots made it hard to walk at first, and he wasn’t used to the heat of fabric or the sun.

The faint crescents of Roes's two visible moons brought him a sense of comfort. He concentrated on one spot behind the second moon and thought he could make out the smallest signs of the third. It would be another week or so before it cycled close enough to see. He tore his gaze from the sky and followed a road that felt most right. It led him through empty, yellow and green grassland before coming upon farms. Quiet gave way to clucking chickens, cows swishing their tails at flies, and horses trotting with their riders as pigs snorted up lunch. The smell of manure and feed turned into fresh empty fields that then rose up into a sandstone wall. Tree Keeper craned his neck to look up at it. He studied people going in and out. Some led carts in by horses or oxen. A few rode carriages. The sight and smell of so many forced him to retreat a couple of steps, but a feeling—like a hand on his back—pushed him forward. He joined people passing through. Noone stopped him. The men holding spears and wearing armor seemed to only glance over those coming and going to ensure they didn’t cause trouble at the gate itself.

Tree Keeper followed a carriage that had passed him down the paved path. Gardens flourished on either side within the wall. He slowed down to admire the flowers and growth patterns foreign to him. Fountains splashed, and if he listened for it, he could hear a large river carving a path around the city’s other side. The gardens cut off under a tidal wave of towers and buildings and turned the color from white and purple buds to golden stone. Tree Keeper stared under their shadow, overwhelmed by the strange architecture and the sheer number of occupance he sensed inside. How should he find those he searched for in this place? He’d usually communicate with the fauna or foliage while tracking, but he did not sense many within, and he doubted his ability to communicate with people. Though the surrounding ether provided him necessary knowledge of his immediate space, he was left on his own on how to use it. And he was not practiced in common speech.

Lacking any other solution, he found what he surmised a protector of the area and therefore a knowledgeable person to some degree. “Excuse me,” he called once he’d darted across the traffic to the summit guard he’d signaled out.

“Yes, how can I be of service?” the middle-aged man sporting a tightly trimmed, golden beard asked.

“I’ve come to this city looking for some people, but I don’t know where to start. Can you direct me in the most likely direction to find...” he paused, trying to recall what the girl had called herself. “She said a beast-bunny,” he muttered.

The guard stiffened and shifted his sweeping gaze onto Tree Keeper's troubled face. “You’re looking for a beast-bunny girl?”

“I do not think that is what they are actually called—”

“What does she look like?” the guard asked.

Tree Keeper paused. The guard exuded visible hostile signs, but Tree Keeper couldn’t account for why. “Are her kind not welcome here?” he asked. Is that why she seemed so sad when he inquired? A sinking feeling ached in his chest. “I must apologize to her.”

“Give me a description,” the guard pressed. “Did she have a companion?”

“Ah. Yes. A male human. He smells of fear,” Tree Keeper replied.

“Coloring,” the guard growled.

“Her eyes were red, like the magic I cast to heal wounds. She had large, floppy ears, dusty rose hair and fur—”

“And the man?”

“Ah. Orange hair. Blue, heavy eyes. A beard.”

“And these are your friends?” the guard asked.

“I’ve met them once,” Tree Keeper admitted. “But I come seeking their help.”

“You seek aid from a couple of murderers?” the guard growled, his hostility spiking as he stepped into Tree Keeper's space and frustrated that Tree Keeper did not back away.

“Murderers? No. I killed those men in the forest, but it was in self-defense.”

Cold, iron cuffs snapped around his one wrist. He looked down at the chain attached to it, and then another wrapped around his second hand. Tree Keeper lifted blinking eyes on the guard. “What is this?” he asked.

“You’re under arrest. You can tell the warden and captain your excuses. Come on.” He tugged on the chains.

Tree Keeper, caught off guard, tripped after him. He threw a glance over his shoulder, not knowing who he expected to find. Several onlookers paused to watch. He tilted his head at them and, realizing he’d gotten himself into trouble, tried to figure out how he managed to do that as soon as he stepped into human civilization.