As the white-furred, gray-haired batbat comes to, a dainty little hand not more than three inches across brushes a damp cloth over her forehead. She is outside, and arrangements of small quilts have been draped over her body to keep her warm against the chill of the night, none larger than three feet square. Her left arm has a dull ache to it, and feels as if it has been bound up.

Elfin voices chatter to each other from out of immediate sight, and the person tending to her exclaims in a high chiming female voice as the bat stirs a little.

Wynona mumbles incoherently, repeating over and over the last phrase of her spell – or, that is, that's how it sounds as it echoes in her head. It just comes out as whispering gibberish, as her eyelids begin to flutter.

The woman who was tending to Wynona exclaims and then departs quickly, her shadow briefly obscuring the sunlight that falls on Wynona's closed eyes.

A chamomile-scented breeze reaches the bat's nose from the wind of her passage.

The bat sniffles, and instinctively fumbles, trying to reach her nose to stifle a sneeze.

Wynona says, "Gngh! (sigh)"

Wynona's eyes flutter open … and try to focus on her surroundings.

Her nose appears to be intact… If runny. The last throbs of a headache die away slowly, then threatens to resurge as a crowd of excited voices begin to approach. The bat's sensitive hearing places them as coming from where a large number of small buildings – sheds? – are placed.

The sounds of many voices swim in Wynona's head, causing it to throb momentarily, and to stir memories. She shoots up, eyes wide open, pulse racing.

Amazing… It's almost a child's village! The cottages barely come up to Wynona's chest, and the villagers are much smaller than she is – they appear humanoid, with a faint covering of white fur that trails into long 'fetlocks' at their feet and on their forearms. Their eyes are set wide apart, like a deer's, over very short muzzles and their four ears – two on each side of their heads – are long and flickery. They wear rough woolen tunics, ranging from black to brown to red to white.

The bat blinks several times, then rubs at her eyes. Just for good measure, she pinches herself. "Ouch!"

The one who is apparently the oldest approaches Wynona, carrying a long (almost three feet!) staff in one hand that drips with shiny stones and feathers and fetishes of some kind from the tip. She mutters something to the others as the bat sits up, causing some of the quilts to slip down her body, then says to the bat in archaic-sounding Rephidim common, "Art thou well? We didst discover thee badly hurt and moaning of deliriums most strange… " Her voice, though elfin, is a little lower than any of the others.

Wynona smiles, as a maelstrom of worries flicker at the sound of a familiar tongue. "Oh! I … I … well … thank you. Thank you very much. I … " She looks around. "Where am I?" she muses out loud.

"I … feel … funny. But … not bad," the bat adds, her gaze still drifting.

"Thou art in the Valley of Aelfhem," the elder says kindly. "It doth nestle most comfortably within the the bountiful and comforting Mother's Arms. Yon mounts." She gestures with her staff.

"Aelfhem," Wynona repeats wistfully. "I've … I've never seen a forest like this before," she says, regarding the pink-leaved trees. Then, suddenly her expression sobers, and she does a quick check for broken bones, or … "I'm not … I mean … Is this … ah… " She covers her face. "I'm sorry. I'm terribly disoriented. I'm not really sure … how I got here."

Wynona's left arm feels numb, and has been splinted and dressed nicely. Perhaps it's broken… Best not to risk opening the dressing to find out. Her wings are sprawled out flat on the earth but feel essentially intact, if bruised.

Wynona whispers without thinking it, "Well, if I need bandages and such … I guess this means I'm not … dead."

"It has been our home for thousands of years," the elder says matter of factly.

The bat suddenly sucks in her breath. Dead? Why? What – ? "Oh no!" she cries out. "Something awful happened! I was on the Lalee-Papu, calling the winds and – and – " She blinks, wrestling with the shadows that obscure her memory. " – and I don't know what happened next."

The other villagers gather up their courage to come closer and see the strange bat, so much taller than any of them. Somehow they seem like children to Wynona, full of wonder and curiosity… But their flickering ears and side-to-side gazes have a way of seeming like shy woodland creatures as well. Skittish. Easily frightened, perhaps.

The elder says, "We didst find thee in the thickets, thy clothes singed as if the breath of a dragon had passed over thee. There was no saving the cloth – such fine material! – yet we held that thou wouldst prefer life over modesty, and so… " She gestures about. "We essayed to bring thee here and render thee what help of the healing kind we could."

The villagers chatter to each other, the brave ones coming up closer to patpat Wynona's cheeks and hands now that she is alive and apparently not minding of being inspected. Their voices range from a high soprano to the near-ultrasonic.

The bat's ears immediately flush. "Oh. Of … of course. I thank you again. I … I owe you a great deal."

Wynona covers her mouth with her good hand. "Oh my! My manners are completely amiss! Please, pardon me. I am Wynona Windcaller … formerly of the Lalee-Papu."

The elder smiles. Maybe the impression of shy forest creatures wasn't quite on target in the first place… "It is well that thou dost understand manners, traveller. It is not given to me to reveal my name, yet I may be called 'the Winterhind' if thou dost wish to speak of me."

"Winterhind," the villagers murmur among themselves, and then as the Elder speaks to them in their own language, they add, "Windcaller." Rolling the names back and forth like toys.

Wynona nods, and looks around … completely lost as to what to do next. Her gaze goes back up to the sky once more … perhaps hoping beyond hope that she'll see that familiar shape. "Burned… " she whispers. Lack of memory aside, she can put enough together from the evidence to conclude that something terrible must have happened.

"Were … there any others? Did … did you see my airship? It was all patched together – the gas bag – with a bit of maroon here, gray, brown, green … " the bat's voice trails off.

The Elder shakes her head. "There has been no airship through this part for ten years. Not since… " She looks down the line of black mountains that rise in the distance.

Wynona's eyelids flutter, as she returns her gaze back to the Elder. "Since… ?"

The Elder glances to Wynona. "Thou dost understand thou owest us an obligation, dost thou not?"

Wynona blinks. That she owes a debt is evident enough. But … she hadn't really expected it to be called upon. She swallows. "Yes. Y-yes, I understand. If not for you … I … I guess I would be dead. I don't know this place. And my arm… " She drops her gaze. "What can I do to repay my debt to you?"

The villagers murmur among themselves, their words taking on an icy-chill overtone as they also look toward the mountains and gesture, their hands like wings. Bat wings? Dragon-wings?…

The bat's gaze flits about to the odd gestures of the villagers. ( "Oh, great, girl. What have you gotten yourself into, now?" )

"Thou dost owe us thine life," the Elder says seriously, coming forward to lay her child-like hand over Wynona's right hand. "Yet it is not so great a fee that the Winterhind must ask of thee… Only, go see and look, go look and find… " She looks up to the mountains. "Whether yon dragons still range the peaks, whether their baleful eyes and their spiteful breath rage still hate aught that flies."

"Go and look only, and come back to tell us what thou dost see."

"Til now," the Elder says. "We hadst thought thy presence, thy bone-breaking fall meant that yon dragons had claimed another victim… "

"Dragons?" the bat whispers, clutching the quilts closer about her, feeling not quite so warm now. That spurs a thought. "Uhm … do you by chance have any extra … Oh dear! How silly of me. Uhm … You said my clothes were burnt. Is there … ah … anything left? I … " Her ears flush again.

The Elder looks at Wynona… Then breaks out into peals of crystal laughter.

Wynona's ears flush all the more, and she looks as if she's trying by sheer force of will to shrink into the quilts and disappear.

"Thou art modest, yet I fear that clothes sized to match Aelfin frames will ill suit your own," the Winterhind says with a smile. "Yet perhaps a bolt or two will serve to give thee adequate cover and protection against yon hostile elements."

The bat's ears remain red. "I … hate to impose further, but … that would be most greatly appreciated." She bites her lip.

The Elder calls to the villagers and stamps her staff twice to emphasize her commands. Perhaps twelve or so child-sized Aelfins run off to attend her requests. "Upon a debt of life," the Elder says with good humor. "What more can a little modesty add?"

The Eeee clasps her hands together, smiling and bowing her head. "I thank you yet again – for understanding."

The Aelfins return bringing two bolts of white cloth, each two feet across and comprising perhaps twenty feet each of rough-woven fabric. The Aelfins may be small, but without the technology of looms, they are ill-suited to produce fine silks. Other Aelfins bring food for Wynona, largely strange fruits that she does not recognize and bread, and a small canteen that sloshes with fresh water.

Wynona gladly and quickly accepts the offerings, and does the best with the bolts that she can. "Well … Shall I be off immediately? Other than … dragons … is there anything else I should be watching for?"

The Elder shrugs, flashing that quietly dangerous smile. "Do not get eaten," she suggests.

The bat tests her wings. She steels herself. ( Don't let it get to you. If you don't do your best, nobody will respect you. You can do it! ) "I'll go, then."

Wynona bids her farewells to her benefactors, and carefully works her way out of the village to find a good spot to take off from without fear of knocking anything over in the process.

The villagers wave farewell to Wynona, looking up at the large bat. Some murmur to each other, speaking of how similar she appears to the dragons, with her wings spread so wide…

…

Wynona can't help it – She finds herself curious about just what sort of forest this is. Once she thinks she's out of line of sight of the village, she makes a slight detour, down to what she hopes is a sturdy branch, to investigate the leaves more closely.

The leaves smell sweet and are crackly to her touch. Little veins of red run through the leaves, giving them their pinkish color.

Wynona sniff-sniffs at the leaf, then looks both ways, before giving the leaf a tentative lick.

No one appears to be around to disapprove.

Hmm… Sweet! It tastes a little like candy.

"Mmmm!" Wynona remarks. She licks a bit more, then whispers to herself, "Wynona! This isn't a candy store! There's work to be done!" She snorts at herself, and tucks away the remainder of the leaf for – Well, she can't find a convenient place to tuck it, so she licks it a few more times for good measure and abandons it as she leaps back to the air.

Were Wynona a biologist, she might conjecture about a form of plantlife that stores sugar in its leaves, perhaps to attract animals to consume them. As she is not, however, such concerns she leaves behind quickly…

The mountains grow ever larger before the white-furred bat… And then she is flying over steep black rock, the twisted and broken layers of the earth a vivid deterrent to any travellers bound by land. Even if the Aelfins mastered the art of climbing, the rock faces would surely pose a great difficulty for them to scale. The winds whip around the bat's face sharply, the cutting smell of ice suggesting that snow is in the mountaintops.

"I can, I can, I can, I WILL, I can… " Wynona chants to herself, pressing on, scouring the surface with her gaze for any sign of danger … of any sign of SOMETHING worth turning around and reporting to the village.

And then the bat's eye catches sight of… A gray bat-winged form flying up to meet her from the mountain. Could it be a dragon? A tiny glow suggests flame waiting to be unleashed.

The bat's eyes go WIDE! "Yaaa! Hey! You didn't have to be real," she squeaks, and tucks in her wings, ducking downward swiftly.

Against the giant cut edges of the mountains, it's difficult to be sure even of how large the creature is…

The gray bat-winged form swoops after Wynona! It cries out, a distant shrieking noise tangled in the wind.

Wynona shrieks, too. "That'sadragon! That'sadragon! Okayokayokay!" She instinctively tries to make herself hard to track.

The voice begins to come clear… "Stop! Halt, *garblegarble* or… " It's Eeee! The dragon speaks her language!

Wynona says, "Gnghf?" Or something to that effect.

The dragon swoops down after Wynona as she tries to weave through the mountains. Something comes hissing through the air!

The bat ducks her head down, regarding the dragon from an upside down position in the middle of a loop. "What?" is the most intelligent response she can think of under the circumstances. "Uh oh," follows quickly thereafter.

A flaming arrow shoots right by Wynona. The dragon, which she now recognizes as a gray black Eeee, curses as he misses, and begins reloading his bow…

"Halt! You are intruding on Clan *skreeking noises*'s lands," the warrior shouts again as he pulls an arrow into place.

Wynona blinkblinks. Suddenly, her expression sours. "Hey! Just what do you think you're DOING with that?!?"

"Stopping an intruder, what do YOU think you're doing here?" the warrior yells back.

Wynona does another loop. "I'm looking for dragons, that's what!" She pauses a moment, reflecting on how incredibly stupid that sounds. Before she can follow up with something else … "Ahh – ACHOO!"

The warrior looks around nervously. "Dragons? Where?!" He pulls the bowstring back, then thinks better. "You'd better come in for questioning," he yells over the winds. "Do you surrender?"

Wynona crosses her arms, as she sails. ( Can't try your luck against a bowman. He might have been just making warning shots. And Eeee warriors are certainly used to fighting Eeee … unlike yourself, Wynona! ) She bites her lip. "Oh, all RIGHT! I'm unarmed!" She spreads her hands wide, fingers open.

"Good," the bat warrior says. "Follow me."

"How humiliating," the white bat mutters to herself, as she flaps along behind the guard.

"Do you mind repeating that Clan name, by any chance? I'm from Rephidim," the bat calls out. ( If he's from one of those Clans who might get violent upon mention of Rephidim, best to find out NOW before there's absolutely no chance of escape… or … if it were possible, less than that. )

The bat leads Wynona down to a hidden crevass in the mountains, where wicker branches have been used to craft dwellings nestled against the sides of the walls. The few actually semi-horizontal surfaces have all been planted with a variety of short stubby plants, presumably quite hardy and able to subsist on rocky soil. "Clan Eeskreekiak," the bat yells back. "A city bat, eh? Soft living. Not like us mountain dwellers!"

Wynona's gaze drifts off. "Yeah. Soft living." She sniffs again. "Oh, pathetic sap-spout of a nose! Is there no end to you?" she glowers, cross-eyed at her own muzzle.

The bat swoops down to a ledge on the high steep wall, then motions for Wynona to follow him into one of the larger dwellings. "Warrior Raveekrahna reporting," he informs the older-looking pepper-gray bat. "I found an intruder approaching the mountains. Says she's from Rephidim. Doesn't look like she's armed, but could be working for those cursed Aelfins… " He glances back at Wynona. "What's your name, again?"

Wynona gulps. "Wynona. Wynona Windcaller of the Lalee-Papu." ( 'Cursed' Aelfins? Oh no! )

The older bat nods. "Never heard of clan Lalee-Papu," he mutters. "Must be some city-bred folk. Strange. No respect for our people's traditions."

Wynona steams. "How … How dare you talk of the Lalee-Papu like that? That was my ship! And … " Her steam quickly runs out, as her gaze drops, "they might all be dead now, for all I know."

The younger warrior looks nervous, but the older sergeant chuckles. "Some fire in you after all, Windcaller. Maybe there's hope for the city bats." He looks Wynona's clothes over. "Aelfin-make?"

Wynona's shoulders slump slightly. "Yes. They found me. I'm not even sure where I am or how I got here. They asked me to look for dragons. … Are there any?"

"Dragons? There are no such things as dragons," Raveekhrahna scoffs. "They're scary tales to frighten children into staying close to home instead of flapping wing-wild into the forest where the Aelfins might eat them."

Wynona blinks several times. "E-EAT them?!? But … but … why … ?"

The older warrior reaches up to scratch behind one of his own ears. "It's an old story. Very depressing. Are you sure you want to know?"

He looks faintly amused, but also weary.

The white bat looks down. "Only if it would not trouble you greatly, sir. I do not mean to step out of my place. But for so much as I know, the Aelfins discovered me, they put my broken arm here in this splint, and they gave me … these … well, they do for clothes … and sent me off to the mountains to see if there were any dragons."

"They wouldn't know me from any other Eeee, if they already knew about you," Wynona adds. "I just don't … understand."

The older warrior scoffs. "They must have decided that maybe they could use you to find out our village's location," he says. "Which, you know, means that we can't let you leave this place. But at least we can make your stay a little more comfortable while you're here." He shrugs his wings.

Wynona blinks. "Can't … can't LEAVE?" Her eyes go wide. "You can't be serious! I have my studies – I have to report to the Temple – I have to find out what happened to my ship – … what happened to me … "

"On the contrary, we're very serious," the older warrior says. "We've lived here a thousand years and we have no intentions of cutting it short and moving just because we're too squeamish to hold someone captive. We can't trust anyone who's been with the Aelfins. We know what terrible people they really are."

He seems quite calm about it, but the younger warrior bristles at the mentions of the Aelfins. "They eat Eeee children! They keep sending bands of their raiders to try and burn our crops!"

Wynona crosses her arms. "I don't know WHAT to think about you or the Aelfins right now. Since it seems I'm going to be here for a very long time … why don't you tell me the whole story, then?" The white bat glowers, scrunching up her mouth to one side.

Raveekrahna insists, "If they weren't so good at hiding their own villages, we'd burn down every last one of them."

Wynona blinks at a sudden realization … ( Idiot! Would you even be sure how to FIND that tiny village again, in that forest?!? ) To which she replies to herself, ( What'd you expect me to do? Leave bread crumbs? )

"Mm." The older warrior nods. "Well, up to about eight hundred years ago, we had no troubles with the Aelfins. We flew overhead and they sailed their little Waashus around and over the Arms to the trade city. Big cloth balloons just like Waashus, with fires in them, and baskets hanging underneath," he says, obviously trying to remember the old tales. "That's what the old ones say."

Wynona's eyes go really wide at the first mention of the notion of … sailing Waashus. Her look sobers a bit once further explanation is forthcoming. She nods. That seems to make sense enough.

"That changed when the son of our chief of the time, Prince Skreekalot, went missing. He'd always had a habit of flying too far and having to be found by his nurse… But that one day, we searched all over. We finally found him… Dead. In an Aelfin village." The warrior frowns. "The old ones say that they were going to cook him, on a big bed made of branches, and that they had strewn flowers over him, like our cooks do. Their Elder was reciting the recipe as they were about to light the flames."

"Our warriors attacked at once to try and get him back; they didn't realize he was dead yet, and then they came back to tell us the story. That's when the long enmity began between our people… That's when we started using our arrows to make sure that they would never share the same sky with us again."

Wynona raises an eyebrow. ( Uh oh. A … funeral pyre? I think we have the beginnings of one colossal misunderstanding here… Oh, whirlwinds and waashus! Why didn't Mama and Papa ever tell me about how the Eeee live outside Rephidim? )

"It's a long and sad history," the older warrior concludes. "There are more details of course, about all the different things they've tried, and our attempts to rid the forests of the cursed Aelfins, but you see why we hate them. I can only wonder that they were able to restrain their alien appetites enough to keep from nibbling on you."

Wynona crosses her arms once more, hunching her shoulders. "Yes, quite amazing. Have you any theories?" She glances at the younger warrior. "He seemed a bit overly eager to take me down at first sight."

"They must have… Oh, by the First Ones! Take off your clothes at once," Raveekrahna insists. "We will bring you new robes! They might have put something on you, to let them follow you to us wherever you are!"

Wynona thinks to herself, ( At least they aren't black bats. If they were, I'd start entertaining notions that they might be intending to – ) Her train of thought is broken. "At once? Well, I would be quite glad to get something a bit more … uh … modest. But … how could they follow me?"

The older warrior tells Raveekrahna, "Go! Fetch new robes for Windcaller." And mutters darkly, "They have mages among their people… Who knows but that like may call to like?"

The younger bat leaves immediately and flaps off for another of the village's dwellings…

Wynona hmphs. "Like to like, eh?" She frowns, looking out. ( Oh joy. Do they intend never to let me fly again? First Ones help them if any Templars come this way … but … what is 'this way'? )

*ACHOO!* "Uhm. Do you have a handkerchief?" Wynona asks, ears flushing slightly.

The old warrior blinks. "A… an-ker-chee'ph?"

Wynona rrrrrghs. "Something to wipe this icky stuff off my nose with, that's what. So I don't have to do THIS – " She wipe-wipes with the back of her good hand, grumbling.

The younger warrior returns with a new gray tunic for Wynona, made of a thin and expertly tanned leather. "Here. Change quickly! We must burn your clothes… "

The older warrior laughs, "Ah! You have the sap-nose that affects little bats. Truly, the city bats must be a soft people… " He considers. "I will send for a healer to tend to you."

With that revelation, Wynona wipes her hand on the cloth. After all … she needn't be embarrassed of anyone having to wash a giant-sized handkerchief, if it's going to be burned anyway. "Mind if I have some semblance of privacy while I change?" the white bat glares at the warrior, taking the tunic.

Raveekrahna blushes in his large bat ears.

Wynona raises her eyebrows, tap-tapping one foot. "Well?"

The older warrior laughs. "Very well. Come, Raveekrahna. We will leave Wynona Windcaller to her privacy." He takes the younger bat's hands and leaves the dwelling for a little time.

The white bat waits for a little bit, watching them depart, then hastily exchanges for the tunic. "Hmph. How indecent. Sure, I may be soft, but at least I'm civilized," Wynona grumbles. She then looks around the room, trying to get a better idea of just what sort of a life is led here.

The bat manages a glance back outside. (What would it be like, to spend all my years here? To live among a people who are so hard-headed as to wage war on those little folk … to never continue my studies, maybe never be allowed to cast another spell … never to see my parents again … and – Oh, curse them! They probably have some First-Ones-forsaken customs about arranged marriages, too, I'll bet! Grrrr! )

The older warrior's hut has a straw pallet on one side, covered by furs (a number of which strongly resemble the thin white fuzz that belongs to Aelfins), a fire in the center, leading up to a hooded chimney which allows smoke to billow out but prevents snow from falling in. Beadwork hangings done on leather keep the walls from being altogether bare, and chests and racks hold weapons and supplies. Most of the weapons include spears with long obsidian blades and bows with heads of flint.

The older warrior coughs discreetly. "Have you finished changing yet?" he asks from outside.

Wynona runs her hands along the furs, mentally constructing how many little Aelfins would be requi – She abruptly shakes her head, looking away. ( No! You're NOT a little child. No tears! None of that sappy stuff! Or I'll slap myself! No … I'll – ) She spins around, looking at the warrior. "Yes," she answers, quietly.

"Give me the clothes then," the older warrior says as he steps inside again.

"And. Is there anything else you have that came from the Aelfins?"

( My allergies, ) Wynona thinks, as the faint beginnings of tears well, while she hands over the cloths, forcing out images of the little ones who gave her this. ( All these blasted plants. That's it. And … and … lack of proper hygiene. Barbarians. ) She looks up. "Just the supplies that I came with. And I wasn't journeying out long enough to have to eat any of it."

"We will burn those as well," the older warrior says firmly.

"Of course," answers Wynona, no hint of surprise. She hands them over as well. ( And, as a bonus, it means I wouldn't get very far, if I were to take a flight. Grrr. )

The warrior hands the clothes to Raveekrahna, whose eyes burn with fervor. From the way he grips the fabric, perhaps he envisions Aelfin necks beneath his hands. He wraps the fabric around the clothes and then takes off to make sure these things are burned far away from the village.

"You burn the clothes," Wynona observes. "But you do not consider that 'cooking' them."

The older warrior watches Wynona carefully. "It is not a bad life we have here. A stern one, but not a bad one. We have many fine young males who would be interested in taking care of a female who came from far away… "

"Of course not," the warrior says surprisedly. "We do not intend to consume ashes, after all."

"Then, just for the sake of argument, what makes you think that burning the dead is cooking?" Wynona glowers at the warrior. "You have it all figured out, nice and tidy, don't you? You know your enemies, and you won't ever trust me to go free – yet you hint that I can be conveniently married off – yet I shall never be free to fly with my children, shall I?" the white bat's good hand clenches into a fist.

The older warrior appears taken aback by Wynona's abrupt ire. "Life is life. We cannot permit you to go free, but while you are here, you may as well make the best of it, isn't that so?" His brows furrow.

Wynona's ears flush angrily. "Best of it? What is an Eeee who is not free to fly? You give me the punishment for a criminal – and you act as if I am isolated, as if I had no life before I came here. When the Aelfins found me, I had NOTHING on me. How are you to know I did not have a wedding band? How are you to know that I do not have children? Or parents? Or work?"

More surprise. "You are overwrought," the older warrior says. "Perhaps you will feel better after you have spent a few days here under the care of our healers… " But just at that moment, the younger warrior returns. "Zashreekan! There are Aelfins coming up the mountain!"

Wynona blinks at this news. Why? How? ( Were they tracking me after all? Did they lie to me? Did I mistake them as harmless by their size and benevolence … gifts that immediately came with a price? But … how did they know I was not one of these? Could they read my mind? ) She shudders at the notion of such violation of the only thing that she has left that she feels is truly hers.

The older warrior turns to Raveekrahna. "Are they coming this way?" His voice shows increasing tension. The younger bat nods. Zashreekan turns and looks at Wynona with burning eyes. "Do you still think that your Aelfins are so guiltless then?" he snaps.

Wynona returns the older warrior's gaze, her eyes fierce, but her jaw shaking. She is, after all, no warrior, though she can still stare down a tornado and – just maybe – harness some of its power. That is, if she doesn't sneeze. "Was I ever sure of one thing or another? Perhaps all of you are guilty! But what of the reason you keep me here? For a secret? Shall I point them to the way they already come? What harm can I do?"

"You will come with us then," Zashreekan decides. "They will find their way to you… And then we will kill them."

The bat glowers. "And then, what shall I do? Be the helpless bait while they attack?" She clicks her tongue in scorn. "I will cast myself upon the rocks sooner than to consign myself to settle with any of the barbaric 'warriors' of your tribe, if that is how you treat a lady."

"But then … maybe they shall simply eat me alive," the bat smirks. "So why don't you just set me out and see? Far better a fate than you have in store for me."

Zashreekan frowns. "In truth, I think one of our warriors would dash himself on the rocks after a few weeks of living with you." He laughs in Skreeking tones, then says. "If they are tracking you, then when we kill them, they will no longer have a way to track you. Then we will exile you to the west, beyond the Arms."

(Dragons,) Wynona thinks to herself. (If they knew, why did they speak of them as such? Why would they act as if I were something different? Whom can I trust?) Wynona shakes her head. "Enough thinking," Wynona scolds herself, muttering. "I could write a book sometimes."

"Raveekrahna," Zashreekan says. "Escort Wynona to where you burned the clothes. I will call on our other warriors."

"How long?" asks the white bat to Raveekrahna. "How long do we have until they are here?"

"That depends," Raveekrahna says. "On where we choose to meet them."

Wynona narrows her eyes. "Well then, let's be on with it. Surely they are not standing and waiting while we chatter."

The bats flap off.

Wynona surveys the scene as best she can, trying to see any sign of the approaching "army" … of where the clothes have been burnt … of where the ambush is likely to take place … and to judge if she might have any time whatsoever to do anything about it.

It appears that, at the rate the diminutive climbers are going, it will take them at least three hours to make it this high. And that is if they take the steepest, most difficult route. The sun overhead and begins to tilt toward the west.

Sixteen warriors have found ambush points… At least sixteen, but it has proven difficult to count them all, and now that they have hidden, Wynona's inexpert eyes cannot even tell them apart from the black rock. Raveekrahna and Zashreekan stand near Wynona, waiting with bloodthirsty eagerness.

It seems a small delegation that has chosen to follow Wynona up the mountain… Merely twelve or so moving dots of white that stand out against the rock.

Wynona drifts down to a landing near the burning clothes … near the wisps of smoke. Smoke. ( Three hours, perhaps … but that would be to assume that everyone would meet them here … which I'm sure they will not. Oh, Mama, Papa, if you can somehow hear me, please whisper your wisdom to me upon the winds! )

The white bat immediately sets down, rubbing her fingers in ashes, and beginning to trace signs in the dirt. She looks up. "Well, don't just stand there. Make yourself useful and fetch me some pebbles from over there, would you? Try to make sure they're roughly the same size."

"What for?" Raveekrahna asks suspiciously. "You aren't going to work some kind of spell to help them, are you? I didn't know you knew how to cast spells. Are you half-Aelfin maybe?" He looks at her white hair with sudden suspicion.

"Twelve should do," the white bat adds matter-of-factly, while tracing ash in the dirt. She glances back up at the warrior. "Half-Aelfin? Don't be disgusting."

Raveekrahna protests, "What do I look like, your apprentice? If you want pebbles, you can fetch them yourself." He hmfs and stares out over the rocks at the climbing Aelfins, his pose all 'I am the tough warrior, fear me and tremble'.

Wynona shrugs. "Very well, then. I suppose I don't really need them. They're only to help reinforce the boundaries of the spell so it doesn't do any unnecessary damage. But something completely chaotic would do just as well, I suppose, if you're willing to accept the responsibility for it."

Zashreekan looks up at this. "We can bind and gag you and I'm certain they'll be able to track you just as easily, if it's you they're following," he says equably.

Wynona finishes a ring around herself. "Hmm. Yes, I suppose you could. There's not much I could do about it. It's unfortunate I've already started the spell. It would be dangerous to halt it now. Of course, I'll have to cut my chatter soon… " She glances toward the warrior. "They lied to me. I am not about to help them fight you – or to devour me."

The two warriors look back at each other. Is she right? The ways of mages are strange and not easily understood by outsiders. Raveekrahna Skreeks to Zashreekan, "She's lying! We should kill her now. Before she can warn them." The older bat warrior frowns. "The bats from the city are weak, but perhaps they have… " He waves a hand. "Go, fetch her pebbles. If she lies, we can kill her instead of the Aelfins."

Raveekrahna screeks some kind of curse… Then rushes off.

Wynona does her best to feign passivity even while the warriors discuss her fate and possible death. She must be calm. She must make sure that she got a REALLY good blow with that hankie right before she started. She must be precise in her chants and incantations.

The older warrior, Zashreekan, calls out some orders. Nothing apparent happens… But Wynona feels eyes on the back of her neck.

"Gaikxeki aynqor nrala… " the bat closes her eyes, focusing on the magic, willing herself not to see her frail form in the circle, but to feel the currents of the air, the differences in pressure and humidity … all the little variations that, with but the push of a butterfly's wings, could start a chain of reactions that might cause a tsunami clear across the world … or cancel out a hurricane.

The time slips by, as hard to catch as a Gooshurm in the sand, as Wynona's world expands to the skies that cross the Arms, as difficult to catch and weave as sand that pours through her fingers. But slowly the currents respond.

A light breeze begins to tousle the white bat's hair … twisting her locks as it dances about. A similar effect is had upon the smoke rising from the pyre for her "clothes" and other gifts from the Aelfins – the wind grasping it and twisting it.

The clouds to the east begin to stretch their fingers overhead, moving like living things… They turn dark as they chase the sun, their purplish interiors gold-lit on the leading fingertips. From far away, a distant boom heralds thunder.

Raveekrahna looks up. "It's going to rain. No, storm really heavily. Lava, but if it gets here before those Aelfins do, we'll never be able to fly in that! They'll probably retreat to their forests too," he growls. His gaze snaps to Wynona. "Windcaller… Did you call those winds?!"

"Esxeranzo veriqd zha… " the bat continues chanting, her consciousness focused on the unpredictable forces of the weather … trying to goad and herd it to her will, and having to correct at every instance that it strays. She cannot hear the questions asked of her, and she would dare not pause to answer.

The clouds thicken as if drawing sustenance and body from the very air. They begin to move with unexpected speed, like living things growling and leaping over the world.

Raveekrahna moves closer, getting ready to test the sanctity of Wynona's ring. He pokes an obsidian speartip across the circle…

Sweat begins to dampen the white bat's forehead. Her body shakes faintly from the strain. Such a wild beast to tame, a storm!

Nothing happens to Raveekrahna's spear… Emboldened, he steps into the circle and starts shaking Wynona. "Whatever you are doing, stop it immediately! We want no rain to interrupt our vengeance!"

Zashreekan yelps at Raveekrahna. "Don't disturb the – "

Wynona's eyes snap open. The sensation is like she is falling – no, being PULLED back through the air, being crushed into a much smaller space, and shaken violently. She cannot hold it! She screams!

The breezes twisting around the smoke and the magic circle abruptly explode, sending ashes and dust flying, and obliterating the carefully inscribed rings of containment.

And with a crack like one of the Rephidim cannons being fired on a feast day, lightning strikes down into the forest. Sugar candy trees begin smouldering, turning brown as they ignite like torches, and a bitter hail starts to fall from the clouds that pass overhead.

Raveekrahna draws an obsidian knife and threatens Wynona with it. "Make it stop, shaman! Or else I kill you!" Zashreekan's face turns thunderous as he looks down the slope to see the Aelfins running for cover, and then he orders the other warriors to join him in an attempt to find at least a few before they become as hard to dislodge as lice.

Her body wracked and cast about by the winds of magic, Wynona struggles to grab hold of reality, not to be wrenched free into that swirling vortex of madness and chaos. She cannot respond to the barrage of ice fragments except to collapse under their onslaught, falling to the ground.

Blue fire begins to creep over Wynona's white hair. Spell energy, not channeled into the sky… And thus with nowhere to go. Until it is grounded.

Raveekrahna screeches, "Talk to me, Windcaller! Talk to the winds! Tell them to go away!"

Competing blasts of wind pummel at the mage's body, pushing her to one side, then the other, as if slapping at her, berating her for daring to meddle with the forces of nature, to try to play the part of a deity, when she is but a very fragile mortal, easily cast aside. The winds begin to form a cushion below her – though not a gentle one. She rises a couple of feet off the air, being spun one way and the other, hair whipping to and fro, wings and limbs lashing about.

Raveekrahna stumbles back as the winds slap at him as well. "By the First Ones!"

Wynona manages to hear an echo of a voice, that agrees with her own will. "Go away," she whispers, her voice echoing on the gusts within the small whirlwind that holds her in its fury. "Please, just go away… "

Zashreekan yells, "After them! Don't let them get away!" down the slope. The driving clouds and winds darken the mountains, casting a pall over the land.

The blue fire in Wynona's hair develops into an eldritch light that surrounds her body. The bats and the Aelfin in range stare up at her in common fear and surprise, as balls of dancing plasma crackle around her body, hovering like her familiars.

All at once, the surging electricity discharges, a bolt of lightning leaping up to the clouds… And Wynona's tattered tunic-clad body hurtles down the mountainside as Raveekrahna leaps after her. A steep cliff and a hundred-foot drop awaits the white-furred bat. High-pitched Aelfin cries ring from far away.

The white bat hurtles, flipping end over end, her limbs oddly splayed, like a rag doll cast away by a displeased child.

Raveekrahna dives down after Wynona. Perhaps he intends an odd circular ending to this: he met her in the mountains, and in the mountains he will finish her. "You betrayed us!" he yells at the bat, outraged, spear out.

The two bats plunge down into the depths of the crevass… And with a sudden jolt, Wynona feels strong bat wings encircling her. A voice whispers in her ear, "And you will pay for your treason at Eeskreekiak's judgment." Venomous. Raveekrahna swoops down the crevass with Wynona clutched tight, his eyes squeezed tight and his periodic Skreeks causing echoes to bounce off the rock walls.

Wynona is unresponsive. The accusation echoes as if from a great distance. She has no strength to respond or resist. Once again, she is cast about, helpless, for all the mastery of the magical arts she dares lay claim to.

Just as Raveekrahna leaves the crevass, however, a net hisses through the air! Excited Aelfin voices ring out as the net claims one of his wings, and then more climb down the slope to chase the rapidly falling bat. Fluffy white drifts of snow fill Wynona's vision and then… Darkness. Struggling against a net and against an angered bat body.

A grinning Aelfin face greets Wynona at last. It says something that sounds, in tone, remarkably like 'Glad to see us?'

Wynona tries to let her vision return, mentally searching her body again for what's broken, and what isn't … and what's bound.

Her left arm twinges. All this stress hasn't been good for it. Raveekrahna struggles raging out of the snow. The other villagers yelp and utter some of the words that Wynona heard when they were talking about the dwellers of the mountains.

The white bat grunts, trying to shut out the pain from the broken arm, and struggles, trying to sit up … in such a way as not to accidentally crush anything – or anyone. "I'm getting up now," she says, just in case. "You'd better get clear!"

Aelfins pounce on Raveekrahna, whose spear arm is still tangled. One jabs him with a long, thin bone needle. The bat yelps. "Ach! Fiends! You won't eat meee… Colors! Spots before my." The bat slumps.

Other Aelfins don't appear to understand Wynona's speech, but they keep a good enough eye on her that there seems little risk of accidentallly stomping a child-like Aelfin underfoot.

Wynona shudders. ( Poison. ) She looks around, calling out in Rephidim Standard, "Winterhind? It's Windcaller. Are you here?"

"Winterhind?" They chatter between themselves. Then gesture for Wynona to follow them, and to stay well out of sight of the main portion of the slope, lest she be seen by the angry bats searching for Aelfins.

The bat is reluctant for a moment, not sure if she should let Raveekrahna out of her sight … but he is as much a threat to her as to the Aelfin now. Even though surely no one can understand her, she says, "You had better NOT eat him!" and follows along.

And beneath a stormy sky, lightning crackling overhead, hail giving occasional painful reasons to yelp, the Aelfins successfully bring Wynona to the village again, and before the Winterhind. Her eyes widen as she looks at the captive they have brought as well. She speaks at length with the warriors, and then turns to the gray-haired white-furred bat…

"Thou hast done well, to give us the chance to capture one of the dragons that live upon the Mother's Arms," she says. "Thou dost know now that they are like thee in body… But not in spirit."

Wynona asks, "What are you going to … do with him?" She doesn't look fully decided as to whether she really wants an answer.

The Winterhind frowns. "What would thou have us do? Though his kind are like yours, they are relentless as a dragon in hoarding that which is theirs, in denying mercy to any of our kind, and in spiting us to that which they are capable. They respect not our customs."

"That is true enough, that they do not respect your customs – They certainly do not respect mine," Wynona concedes, " – but why have you judged me any different, when you found me? How could you have determined my spirit?"

"You sent me looking for dragons," the Eeee adds. "You sent me to look and to come back. But it seems you did not tell me as much as you could have."

The Winterhind says quietly, "It is because thou didst not appear to come of their people… " She reaches out and with delicate spritely fingers, rubs the leather tunic that Wynona wears. "I thought that perhaps they would welcome thee. Then thou wouldst be able to tell them that we Aelfins have never desired war between our clans. When my warriors saw smoke, we feared for the worst… That they had prepared thine funeral pyre."

"You did not prepare me," the Eeee says. "You spake of 'dragons' as distant creatures … not as some other clan having a misunderstanding. Perhaps I was a fool to head off so soon without asking more questions, but … " She puts her hands to her head. "I … I just woke up in this strange land, for crying out loud, with candy leaf-trees and … I don't know the questions to ask!"

The Winterhind closes her eyes, then opens them again. "Perhaps this war has gone on too long for all of us."

"All this started, I guess, because of one of their princes who died in the forest … and because you put him on a funeral pyre. They thought … they thought you were COOKING him!" She covers her face again. "They didn't even have to cloud the story with exaggerated details. For them, it was outrageous enough, yet I could see how it would be misunderstood." Wynona kneels down to the ground.

The Winterhind looks surprised. "Cooking him?" She shudders. "We do not eat flesh. The forest provides for us."

"Well," Wynona wipes away a lock of grayish hair from one eye with her good hand, "they don't know that, apparently. And maybe they don't want to. I find this so odd, though. You seem to have lost so many to this war. Have they lost many? It would seem that you are the more willing to seek peace. I would think it the other way around. Why must it be so hard?"

"And … what can a silly-headed little bat like me do about it?" Wynona shakes her head, closing her eyes.

The Winterhind shivers. "They are hunters. Need they speak to their prey? An excuuse, that is all that is required… " She looks at Raveekrahna, and then back to Wynona. "Thou dost speak their language. We cannot. Wilt thou bridge the gap for us?"

Wynona laughs mirthlessly, hiding her eyes from the Winterhind. "Yes … yes, I can speak their language. Yet what can I say? I can speak well of you … but who knows me? Who do I know? When I began to cast a spell, they wondered if I might have some Aelfin blood in me. What proof can I offer? How can I earn favor in their eyes that they would trust anything I might say?"

The Winterhind shrugs. "It is… A beginning." She smiles a little.

Wynona looks back to the fallen Raveekrahna. "I don't have a clean slate anymore. I was so desperate to try to stop the battle before any more blood could be added to the debts on each side. And now they think me a traitor."

"If one of their own kind believe," the Aelfin continues as she walks to the comatose bat warrior's side. "If one of their kind can be made to understand that we mean them no harm, wish none from them. That is a start. Thou art not of his people… But he is."

Wynona's gaze does not leave Raveekrahna. "He was going to kill me. I can't be sure – I'm not sure what I really heard, and what was just my own mind – but … " She shakes her head.

"We will protect thee," the Winterhind says. "We will bind him. I cannot promise that we will convince him… But if he dost not, then though it is little enough payment." The Winterhind looks over to the Mother's Arms again. "Perhaps we mayst be able to bring thee beyond yonder mountains, and to safer lands. Here our airships cannot fly."

The white bat leans closer to Raveekrahna's face, shifting to her native Eeee. "Warrior, how can I convince you of a truth you would rather not admit? How can I deprive you of your war? How can trust be built, when you stubbornly look for signs of trickery?"

Raveekrahna shifts a bit, still delirious. "Who… Mother? You're… " His voice trails off into dreamy mumbling of childhood guilts. Apparently he was a horrid little bat as a cub.

"… extra salt in the soup… "

Wynona raises an eyebrow at the confession. She clears her throat. "No, not Mother." She wipes Raveekrahna's forehead with her good hand, brushing some stray hair out of his eyes.

"… a slug in Zashreekan's food bag. It was… " He chuckles to himself.

The Winterhind looks askance at Wynona. "Do you wish no bindings on this one of their kind?" she asks.

The white bat shudders at THAT particular confession. Ewww! Slugs are NOT her taste. She looks to Winterhind, as if begging the question to be answered for her. "I … I don't think he will be very receptive if he is bound. It is a great risk, I know, and I can't say I know him to say that he won't flee or cause danger." She looks down. "But if he decides to act, I believe he will choose to kill me before he flees. And if his spear is not at hand, I hope that will not be quickly done."

"Let it be as you say," the Aelfin elder agrees.

Another Aelfin comes close, injecting Raveekrahna with some kind of antidote. Within moments he begins to come awake. "What – who?" His nose sniffs. "Not on the Arms… In the forests."

"Yes, Raveekrahna, you are in the forests," Wynona answers, in Eeee.

"You! Windcaller! You brought the storms," Raveekrahna says, sitting upright and glowering at Wynona. "Did you do it just to capture one of us for the Aelfins to play with?" His fierce red gaze sends some of the Aelfin children scurrying behind their parents.

The clouds continue overhead, gusting and rumbling angrily. The sun shines through only in occasional beams that break through the ill-controlled weather patterns.

"You are alive, you are unbound. And – please, calm yourself – you are among the Aelfin, yes. Truthfully, it was not my intent to capture you. I wished to drive away the Aelfin – and then perhaps flee. I knew not whom to believe, and I saw no one to turn to," Wynona says.

"The cards on the table were not in my favor," Wynona continues. "I faced a life of imprisonment, and of watching the bloodshed continue, helplessly. I could not sit idly by. I had to shuffle the deck and take my chances with a new hand."

Raveekrahna scowls. He lifts his hands and opens his wings, then turns about to stare hard at Wynona. Clearly her words don't please his ears, but he hasn't stopped listening.

"Raveekrahna! Brave warrior, look! Your wings are free, your wrists unbound! You do not look the part of the main course of a feast," Wynona pleads. "Stay – I beseech you – stay and look and see who these people really are."

"Do you say that eight hundred years of our beliefs are wrong?" the gray bat asks dangerously. "That it was all… A mistake?"

Wynona's face looks lost for a moment. She holds out her hands in a resigned expression. "Yes, Raveekrahna. But you are not of that generation. For a mistake of such age to be corrected takes strength and bravery … and a willingness to accept the pain that comes with acknowledging it. It is not easy. I can't think of any way for it to be so."

Raveekrahna stands. "I want proof that I am free to fly," he says in the Eeee that he and Wynona share. "Then I will come and listen."

Wynona looks down and nods, then turns toward Winterhind. "He wishes for proof that he is free to fly. Can you grant him that? He says that then he will come and listen."

The Winterhind looks more worried, not having been able to understand the conversation. "He is not bound," she says in that accented Rephidim common. "We cannot stop him. We will only sorrow if we must move before our homes are burned, but it cannot be helped."

Wynona sniffles a bit. ( Oh no! Not NOW! I have enough trouble trying to sound sane as it IS, without having to fight my nose! ) She looks to Raveekrahna. "You are not bound. Please, do return. Do you wish me to fly with you, or stay here?"

"Stay. I will return if I am satisfied," Raveekrahna says gruffly. He looks scornfully at the little villagers watching him with frightened and confused eyes, and then takes to the air…

The gray bat begins to wing toward the mountains…

The white-furred bat makes the sign of the Cross and Star across her chest as she sees the bat flee. "I'm sorry," she says in her native Eeee, as she sees the bat head back to the mountains, not bothering to translate for Winterhind.

A long stream of sunlight pours over the bat as he flaps toward his people, turning his fur momentarily silver, edged by gold…

And, incredibly, he turns around.

Wynona's breath catches in her throat, as she watches incredulously. ( A feint? Or maybe he just thought of one last retort? Or maybe … hope, beyond hope … )

Slowly the batwinged figure approaches. The Winterhind and her people watch silently.

The white bat continues looking up, watching. She hurriedly blows her nose with a handkerchief and hides it before Raveekrahna lands.

Raveekrahna's face is set in stone as he alights in the village's clearing again. He glares at Wynona, seeming very unhappy. "I should bring my people and burn this village, city bat," he snarls in the piercing Eeee language. The Aelfins put their little hands over their four ears. "They are a weak people, to let me go so easily. Soft."

"But… They did let me go." He frowns, not wanting to say the word 'mistake'.

Wynona smirks, swallowing the retort she had in mind before his last remark.

She quickly regains a serious composure. "I am very glad to see you have returned. Perhaps they are 'soft'. But that does not make them your enemy."

The gray bat walks closer to Wynona. "Perhaps you are right. There is no honor in a fight without cause." These last words are barely whispered, hissed.

Wynona says, "If that is the conclusion you reach, then you are the one who is surely right."

Raveekrahna smirks.

"Don't worry," adds Wynona, "they can't understand a word you say, regardless. In fact, I doubt very many at all understand the 'city language'."

"Perhaps that has been so much the problem. Here you are, two peoples, so close together – yet unable to speak to each other," the white bat says.

"It is not for me to say who is right. I have come to the heart of the Aelfin," he says with growing confidence. "Are they brave enough to do the same? Will they send one of theirs to speak before the Council?"

Wynona sighs. "That is a very good question." She looks to Raveekrahna. "Are you brave enough to guarantee such an emissary's safety?"

"I will… If you come," Raveekrahna says.

Wynona looks down. "I have already realized that I must. If I do not come … then there will be none to translate." She turns to relate Raveekrahna's demand (and offer) to Winterhind.

The Winterhind nods. She considers for barely a second before saying, "I will go."

"Are you the only one of your people who can speak the Trade Language?" Wynona asks, finding this hard to swallow – especially at the quick response. "I don't know what to expect."

"No, I am not," the Winterhind says. "But, child, I would ask nothing of my people that I would not do myself. This is the first time in these centuries gone by that they have agreed to speak to us. I shall go." She looks serene, her chin tilted up.

Wynona's eyes haze just a bit. "I admire your bravery, Winterhind. I wish my courage were as much – and I hope I may have the wisdom some day to back it up." She turns to Raveekrahna. "Yes. She will go. I must go to translate as well."

Raveekrahna grins to himself. Either way, war or not… It's an adventure. And it will be at his hand which way it goes.

"You carry her," he says.

The Winterhind speaks to her people, giving orders. Some immediately begin to sob, clinging at her and pulling at her sleeves. Others hang their heads and walk to the huts, where the sounds of packing can be heard.

"Carry her?" Wynona blinks. She's not even sure if she could carry her … especially with one broken arm. "I … will try," she says truthfully.

The Winterhind sheds the sobbing Aelfins delicately and murmurs to Wynona, "Canst thou carry me aback, dear child?"

Wynona softly smiles, and stoops down, folding her wings forward.

Light as a child, the Aelfin elder scrambles aback. Raveekrahna nods to them, and then takes off, not looking back to see if they are following.

Wynona summons up what strength she has, and leaps off the ground, snapping her wings out to grasp the air.

It's difficult… But not impossible. The winds almost seem to react to Wynona's will, giving her all the lift that she can handle. They whisper by her ears as if asking questions. "Whoooo?… Whooooo?"

And so the long flight to the mountains begins, with the Winterhind a warm reminder on Wynona's back that she went before as a scout. She goes now bearing a hope of peace.

Wynona, once clearly airborne, cannot help but laugh. She wings her way toward the Eeskreekiak stronghold, silently praying for a miracle.

The Eeskreekiak village spills into view one wicker dwelling at a time, darkened beneath the fading clouds' shadows but with patches of light walking slowly over the mountains as the sun struggles to cast its afternoon pale. Raveekrahna calls out to the approaching warriors, who take up formation, and the group lands before the very largest dwelling… Which stands before a natural cave in the side of the rock face. "Call the Council," he says in the Eeee language, while the Winterhind climbs down from Wynona's back.

Wynona wills her heart to stop thumping so loudly, her breath to come more easily, her nose to stop itching, her legs not to feel so weak, but her body, as if emboldened by the disobedience of the elements, seems determined to pay her little heed.

The Council. Zashreekan, his face set and angry at Wynona whom he believes to have betrayed them. An actually rotund bat, dressed in the most elaborate robes – it's a sure thing that he never could fly, and he is closest to hand as he lives in the dwelling just outside the cave. And a thin totally black bat whose eyes are also black, his hair marked only by a single white lock of hair. Zashreekan stands forward first. "Explain your actions, Raveekrahna! Are these your prisoners? Have you brought Windcaller to stand trial?"

"No, I have not," Raveekrahna says. He looks to Wynona. "I have brought seekers of peace. From the Aelfin." He grins hugely, enjoying the attention and the incredulous looks that he is receiving, much as if he had just declared that he had plucked off his own wings.

Wynona can't help but – for an instant – throw a frightened glance in the direction of the black bat. She forces her gaze elsewhere, as events unfold around her, trying to hard to convince herself that, yes, this is really happening.

The chief Skreeks. "Peace? How can we make peace with devourers of our kind? If we permit them the sky, they will descend and eat our children?" he burbles. He eyes the Winterhind, who stands cool and dignified, waiting for Wynona to tell her what is being said.

Wynona dutifully plays the part of translator, translating the phrases to Rephidim Standard as accurately as she can manage, pausing only to tackle certain plays on words that become such accepted parts of so many languages.

Of course, some of the impact is lost in Wynona's flat, transcript-like recitation, but these are the two languages – Eeee and Rephidim Common – that she is quite fluent with.

"We have never eaten any of the Eeee," the Winterhind says through Wynona slowly and carefully. "We are not meat-eaters." The shaman scoffs, but slowly through Wynona's mouth, the Winterhind's protestations of innocence are set forth. And her apology. "These many years ago, we didst discover a strange prince dead in the forests, neck snapped. We thought only to give him a burning fit to an Elder of our own kind. We did not know, then, that you did not share our customs. For this… We are sorry."

The Council ruminates. Zashreekan scowls. "Your people are small frightened creatures. They deserve to be meat for our warriors." But the shaman raises a finger. "It is forbidden, the slaying of another who holds honor without cause." The thin black bat locks eyes with Wynona. "Will you speak for the honor of the Winterhind?"

Wynona continues translating with all the seriousness of a major ritual. When the thin black bat speaks, the spell is broken, and she is forced to … think again. "The Aelfin rescued me when my airship was destroyed. They could have simply left me, thinking me one of their enemies. They had no way to speak with me until after they had already bandaged my wounds and tended to me. And they did not bind or restrain me."

The chief burbles.

"If they wished ill," says Wynona, not comfortable with the admission of her own helplessness, "they had every opportunity to act upon it."

The shaman nods and gestures to the others. "You hear it from her own mouth. A war against those defenseless is against our code. I am the speaker of the law and I say, we must not slay, or we become as Dagh's followers." Zashreekan begins to protest, when the shaman fixes him with that same steely look.

The chief looks at his advisors… Then at the gently smiling Winterhind and at Wynona, who looks rather the worse for wear and tear.

Wynona listens to her heart pounding in her ears for several beats, before she translates for the Winterhind.

The Winterhind puts her spritely hand over Wynona's, holding it trustingly.

"We accept your apology," the chief says at last. "We recognize your bravery, Elder of the Aelfin, in coming here to deliver it. By the word of Chief Fareekalani, the war against the Aelfin is ended."

Wynona's face struggles between one side that wants to smile, even quaveringly, and the other which wants to maintain a serious, emotionless visage. She relays the statements to the Aelfin.

The Winterhind squeezes Wynona's hand and looks up to her as if to say 'There, it is ended well.'

The white bat refuses to give any sigh of relief. She can still feel it – that unbearable force just waiting beyond the barrier … one which might give at any moment. The two fronts of air, just waiting to form a tornado. She should be happy – but she's afraid to be, for fear that some cruel Spirit of Fate might punish her for being premature.

Instead, Wynona looks for her cue to head out with the Winterhind. She just wants to get … outside … back out where it's almost safe.

The chief goes on, "In recognition of this new peace, we will gift the Aelfin with twelve fox pelts and eight raccoon pelts, and ten of the eggs of the grabbits which are most beauteous and shining… " He goes on for a while in this vein. Then to Wynona, he adds, "And what may we do for the emissary who brought us this word of peace?"

Wynona turns back around, internally kicking herself, trying to get something to come forth. "I … I have to report back to Rephidim, and I don't even know what the name of this land is … or … what continent I'm on. If someone … could show me the way to a place where I could arrange for passage back to Rephidim… " She looks down at her tunic. "Uhm … and … maybe … " She looks back up. "Some more clothes?" She raises her eyebrows, biting her lip hopefully.

"You are on the land of Ur," the shaman says. "We see the legendary floating city of Rephidim very rarely. Still… Perhaps some traders in the city of Per-Adis might be able to take you there. You will require travelling supplies then." He grins. "Raveekrahna showed good sense in bringing you here. Might I make a suggestion, O Excellent Chief?"

The chief burbles an affirmative? "Of course. This is a great day, a brilliant moment for our two people… " He seems to be trying to think of a good speech to make.

( Ur… ? UR? I … was kind of joking about the continent… Oh my … ) She sways slightly on her legs, but manages to keep her balance.

"Let us send the warrior, Raveekrahna, with this traveller, Wynona Windcaller," the shaman suggests. "He will show Windcaller to Per-Adis. Then he may hire someone from that city who knows Eeee and this Rephidim Common language… "

The black bat-eyes turn to Wynona. "If this meets with your satisfaction?"

Wynona's gaze quickly shifts toward Raveekrahna. "Yes." She smiles. "Yes, that would be quite fine."

Raveekrahna's big grin starts to fade. "You want me to… what?" He looks at Wynona.

Wynona blinks, her smile quickly disappearing at Raveekrahna's protest. "You don – ?" She looks away, ears flushing.

"Show the traveller to Per-Adis," the shaman repeats. "It should be a simple task, don't you agree?" He glances sideways to Zashreekan and then mutters, "I know about the food bag" to Raveekrahna.

Raveekrahna begins nodding enthusiastically. "Of course, of course. It would be my pleasure."

The chief beams. "Well then, it is settled. Raveekrahna, show our visitors to somewhere they may rest from their exertions." He claps his hands twice.

The Winterhind smiles and nods to the chief. "Thank you," she says in the Rephidim common, after listening to the translation.

Wynona blinks a few times again, this time wondering at the … sudden transformation? She can't help but smile at the notion of getting somewhere private. ( Just a little bit longer. Hold on! Don't sn – ) "Gngh. (sigh)"

Raveekrahna thinks to himself. . o O ( A week of listening to her and I shall be truly batty… )

Wynona smiles, and does one more translation, conveying the Winterhind's thanks. And with that, she happily heads out. ( Thankyouthankyouthankyouth – ) "ACHOO!"