It’s past midday when Mher wakes up. Seton is fiddling with his knives and Emmett rubs his head; Ashford is still asleep and Foxyn has joined him.

Mher fruitlessly tries to connect to a ley line before remembering the day before’s events.

“What do you say to a walk down the mountain?” Mher barely registers Seton’s request but nods feeling agreeable.

“A walk?” Emmett asks incredulous.

“I’d like to fill my waterskin and scout for signs of enemy tracks,” Seton says flippantly.

“...Why’d you wait for Mher to wake up?” Emmett asks.

“So I don’t get lost.” Seton’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. Despite his composure, Mher picks up on Seton’s energy building. He’d been completely unreactive to fights and running, so Mher’s unnerved by its presence.

Mher supplies, “It shouldn’t take us as long as last night since we’ve rested and have daylight.”

Emmett’s eye drifts to Ashford so Seton suggests, “You can wake him if you like.” Emmett makes a face seeming to disapprove of the idea and phrasing it like he’s to blame for wanting to wake him.

They wait for Emmett’s indecision to clear up, “Don’t take too long… and don’t run off.”

“I don’t run from money,” Seton says flatly.

“I’m with you until I get my source sachet back,” Mher’s response is callous but manages a smidge of sarcasm.

“Mmm.” Emmett’s doubt is transparent but doesn’t argue.

Mher leaves behind some supplies to travel even lighter and Seton, already prepped, saunters out. The sun’s out and the sky’s clear, the clouds having been carried away by yesterday's wind. Mher fixes Seton with a stare once out of earshot of the cave.

Seton lets out a short breathy laugh, “If you weren’t buying my excuse why’d you come?” Seton raises an eyebrow.

Mher unconfidently cuts to the chase , “...Why are you… agitated?”

Seton’s expression is carefully calculated, but his jaw freezes and gaze becomes piercing. Mher is unintimidated. He lets out another airy laugh to release the tension in his face to make it appear more relaxed. “Guess you caught me. I just need to wash off after all the running we’ve done.”

The light tone conflicts with the energy radiating off of him, but Mher simply replies, “And you think Emmett would have stopped you?”

“I knew you’d understand.” Seton’s smile is strained, pulling painfully wide. “We can get to a ley line, find the closest river, then you can do a preliminary search on the ley line.” Seton’s hand waves around as he explains his plan trying to loosen up.

“Sure,” Mher’s neutral response has Seton on edge for whatever reason, but they make their way back down to a ley line without incident. Mher finds a shallow stream that Seton finds acceptable and walk to it. When they’re within sight of it, Seton disrobes and enters the water with immense relief. As he cleans himself vigorously, Mher checks the vicinity feeling disconnected without their source sachet. Unseen variables had gotten too close too suddenly recently making them. They can’t completely rid themself of the uneasy thoughts, but choose to disrobe and clean themself as well.

Seton doesn’t spare Mher’s body a second glance, perhaps too caught up in washing, but gets Mher to ask, “Are you used to Alderkin body types?”

“It’s not like you’re missing your head or fingers. All your parts look normal.” Seton’s hardly paying attention to them.

“Wouldn’t you be the reason someone's missing their head and fingers?” Mher asks coy and curious.

“Depends on the job, but those are more involved than I like. Too much work when they don’t compensate us for it. I prefer escort and bodyguard stuff ‘cause most of the time you just get paid to sit there.” Seton smiles softly, reminiscing, relaxing; his energy is returning to its baseline. He almost feels human to Mher.

Mher doesn’t push for details, knowing they’d likely hear gorey descriptions. Instead the two get clean and prepare themselves for their scouting mission.

Their current ley line is a fractured piece, so they move further into a larger branch. Mher locates a camp southeast within walking distance leading Seton to investigate dirt trails for signs of use.

The trail is on a weak piece of ley line and Mher is looking at things more distant through it when their ears pick up a ‘crunch’. “Seton. Climb a tree.” Seton follows their instructions not missing a beat and Mher searches for a worthy plant to harvest. It’s a patch of buttercups, but they crouch by it anyway and busy their hands so they can find who’s nearby.

It’s disorienting to find the duo who are looking at their physical form, so they back out of it when they are sure the two aren’t planning to attack.

They hear them step onto the trail and one shouts, “What’re you doing?”

Mher looks over their shoulder, feigns a look of surprise and shows off a bundle of buttercups; “Collecting buttercups.”

Both continue approaching. “...Where’s your unit?”

“I’m not in either army,” they say calmly, rising to their feet.

“Bullshit. You heard all the commotion last night and just happen to be in the area?” They stop and keep their distance, wary of them. Maybe expecting an ambush?

“I’m travelling north to escape enlistment. I didn’t realize both armies were so close till last night.” Mher tucks the buttercups away in their cloak which causes both men to flinch.

“Alderkin aren’t forced to enlist,” the Misthen says with a doubtful sneer.

“While south I heard a community was captured and forced to enlist. Is it not the same here?” Mher suspects it’s not the same case but fishes for information.

The Misthen who’d been speaking seems a little caught off guard but doesn’t immediately shoot down the idea. His companion questions, “Captured how?”

“...I was told their source sachet was stolen.”

“Their… source sachet?” the same asks.

Mher reaches under their scarf to pull out and present a pouch to the cautious enemy. “Each Alderkin has a source sachet that is sacred to them. If it’s true the Wallard army took it then they won’t leave without it.”

The duo share a look. The original speaks again, “I think it’s best for you to come back to camp with us.” The Misthen scratches his jawbone.

Mher purposely narrows their eyes. “I’m not tricked that easily,” they say reproachfully.

The speaker’s energy starts building and he grins irritated, “I just think you should tell our superiors what you just told us.” He continues scratching his chin.

The man’s body is tense as though ready to attack so Mher slips into the ley line as the man’s hand comes up over his head to scratch at the back of it. Their ears catch the bow’s snap and they whirl around only seeing the arrow at the last second. It sinks into their shoulder; a scream trapped in their constricted throat. They slump against the magnolia, eyes wide at the arrow lodged under their collarbone. Their hands shake tremendously, unable to touch the wound and they’re gasping for air.

The duo draw near, but Mher can’t react. Seton flies down from the branches above Mher and stabs two knives on either side of the speaker’s throat. He rips them free, jumps off the speaker and slices the other man before he can reach his weapon.

The duo drop and Seton dashes after the archer. The archer struggles to fire shots as Seton races to him weaving between the trees. Then, Seton disappears. Panicked, the archer runs only for Seton to land on him from above and pierce his spine.

Not wasting time, Seton goes back and carries Mher- who passed out after hyperventilating. He makes a straight shot for the mountain, not stopping to pull out the arrow or stop their bleeding. Knowing an Alderkin may have been observing the scuffle he prioritizes escaping the ley line.

He leaves behind the treeline and only stops when there’s decent rock coverage. He sets Mher down, the blood has seeped through and trails down, but they’re still breathing. Seton, with care, snaps off the body of the arrow with his knife leaving the arrowhead embedded. He slides the body through a loop on his waist and uncovers their shoulder. He pads the wound with a little bit of gauze he’d been saving. He finds their vitals to be in an acceptable range, covers theri shoulder, and picks them back up. He resumes the pace he had. It’d been a long time since he’d carried a body he notes; they’re lighter than he expected, or maybe he’s stronger now.

It’s difficult to pick out the landmarks while Seton makes his way up the mountain, the rocks all having a uniform look, but he trusts his own senses to lead him back to the cave. The sliver of an opening catches his eye, and the muscley figure inside it.

Emmett stands up and searches for Misthen past him, and when he finds none comes out to meet them.

“We have to move,” Seton says and notices Ashford wandering out drowsily then immediately comes to attention.

Emmett asks urgently, “What happened?”

“Caught by a scouting party. I killed the scouts, but they have an Alderkin back in their camp who could have watched our escape,” Seton explains, rushed but not distressed.

“Mher…” Ashford breathes his eyes wide.

“It’s just an arrow in their shoulder. We can patch it up quickly before moving on,” Seton says, setting them down in the ‘safety’ of the cave.

“I’ll take care of it. Everyone else pack up.” Ashford already starts on fixing Mher’s wound before the others could step in, so they obey and gather up their things, stuffing Mher’s things into Ashford’s bag.

Mher remains unconscious throughout the process, so when it’s time to leave Seton carries them- though Emmett does offer to do so. Foxyn yawns as he traces out a new route to follow along the range. The sides grow steeper and Seton struggles with his footing. Ashford stays to his right to catch them if necessary.

They come up to a cliffside and Foxyn stops. He peers to the north, the corner of his mouth drawing to the side. He can see the ridge that carves a steep wall along the west side of a sprawling forest of which he had no information for. And past that he sees not so far off peaks littered with snow.