We Need a Deathworlder!

Eyes open.

Pricks…

Many cold pricks…

Bluish grey sky…

Roaring of falling water…

It’s… so cold… too cold…

Turning her head, the woman’s cheek rests on dark, slick, and solid stone. She attempts to focus, but between the haze of intense rainfall and spinning vision, she can only make out wavering shadows of nothing distinguishable. Her lungs expand and lurch as pure bile spews out. A deep burn makes itself known with every breath she takes.

“Get up.” a… voice? A feeling? Orders.

Teeth clench as she twists her bare torso and pushes up to her hands and knees. The stone ground is sharp against her skin, making any movement upon it incredibly uncomfortable. To compound the difficulty the wet stone proves to be as slick as ice. After lifting herself to attempt a standing position, she immediately slips before a single step is made. Her back slams down into the ground with such force the air escapes her.

Her mouth opens, but all it collects is drops of water. Lungs already burning, they squeeze in on themselves paralyzing the woman for a short while.

Wind picks up, giving the already freezing cold a nasty bite. The woman wraps her arms around herself in vain to resist her intense shivers.

“Get up.”

The command feels as though it’s further away in an unknown direction, leaving her behind. Before her breath can return to her, the woman maneuvers herself back up on her hands and knees, and starts to crawl. Feeling the flanking attack of sharp chill, her insides twisted with burning, and skin cutting slick stone… she winces in hellish pain, tears and snot joins the drenching rain.

She can’t see ahead, rather her sight slurs towards the ground watching as crimson begins leaking from her hands, and dribbling down her arms from her back. So much hurt, so much pain… she just needs to go and not stop until she is out of this hell. Somewhere at least warmer.

Soon she can’t see anything but blurs of dark stone and red hands. Her pace is painful, but fast.

Just as air begins to find its way back into the woman’s chest, her committed hand catches open air. Unable to adjust her fierce momentum, she falls along with it. Tumbling down what feels like glass gravel, she nearly blacks out before coming to a stop. Struggling to maintain her consciousness, she opens her eyes to see pits staring right back at her.

The skull rested inches from her face, speaking to her for reasons the woman can’t comprehend. It tells her to stop. To rest here with it. She won’t be alone. The pain will stop soon when the cold numbing sets in. It’s okay to stop. Just stop.

Grunting, she turns away from it to see… green… Muted green, but green.

“Get up.”

Stifling guttural cries of agony, the woman forces herself up from the flesh slicing ground and steps out into some of the green. Plants…

With every step there’s less and less stone and more cushioning flora. Continuing on she is eventually spared at least one trial. However, her vision is still unfocused, and there’s no clear direction to go but forward. After nearly running directly into trees, she swears she sees blurs jump from behind them to another. But over the torrential downpour she can’t hear them. Their presence concerns her greatly, but in her delirious state, all she can do is shout at them as she staggers along blindly.

Something shoves her from behind, but when she defensively casts an arm back it catches nothing but falling droplets. Another push hits her from the same direction, making her realize it’s just an especially harsh gust of wind. In fact now that she has completely stopped she can see the blurs were nothing more than thrashing branches. No one is here but her, which simultaneously relieves and terrifies her. She’s truly alone…

As that fact settles in, the woman presses on. Her nude body is whipped and thrashed at by lower branches as the foliage grows more dense. At least the biting wind itself is slightly warded off. The minor reprieve helps in bringing an internal calculating calm. Survival is the only priority in this moment, no matter what needs to be done, or how far she needs to go.

The sky above CRACKS and RUMBLES as if accepting that as a challenge in full confidence.

Doubling down, the woman quickens her gait, still illogically committed to the direction she first set herself on. Her vision gradually improves in clarity, but her shivering begins to die down. She can’t recall why that’s bad, but she knows that’s really bad.

She starts to run to hopefully warm herself up a bit while covering ground faster. She trips up several times in the untamed wilderness as deceptively deep pools of mud catch her. As soon as she believes she understands where to step, her foot cracks straight through a small rotting log that gives way into a seemingly endless pit.

The woman’s entire exhausted body slaps and sinks into the mud like the planet itself consumed her. Her raw bare feet thrash catching what she hopes are tree roots, thrusting herself up into a standing position. Right as her caked head breaks back into open air… the root squirms and snatches her ankle. As she lifts her free leg to kick, she is dragged back down into the clay gumbo.

There’s initially flailing ripples in the surface of the pool, but after several minutes pass other than the peppering rain it grows still. Until a figure explodes out by the edge of the pool, gasping and coughing violently. She staggers up and out, dragging a writhing creature half her size out. The black mass of smooth glimmering skin squeals like a swine as its prey’s superior strength tears it away from its lair. Its barbed tentacles slash and squirm, fruitlessly attempting to break itself free.

Mustering the strength her adrenaline loans, the woman thunderously roars out as she swings the animal into the closest tree. After a gruesome cracking, the creature squeaks out in its last throes of life. Then the woman repeats the action once more with even greater effort, snuffing out the attacker completely.

Falling on her knees the victor clutches the side of her ribcage, the excursion added with holding her breath for so long causes one of her lungs to reignite worse than ever. She has to wait for the pain to subside a bit before she can bear to move. Even then, her hopes of resuming to run are dashed. She makes slow miserable steps, fighting back sobs as her confused mind is unable to formulate long term cohesive thoughts regarding the situation she’s in. As if something keeps swatting them away from her.

Practically limping onwards, the coating of soaked soil slurry starts to wash down her numbed body. With her strength sapped, and her will soon to follow, she breaks out of a treeline to see a cave. A wonderful, beautiful crevice of shelter… that lies just beyond a flooding raging river.

The woman falls back on her ass, defeated. Curling up into her knees, the last of the driving motivation to press on is utterly extinguished. She was doomed to die here… whether it be from the cold, animals, or drowning in torrents mere meters away from possible salvation. She sits there for a long time, emptying out of thought and reason in preparation for the inevitable.

Then a jingle of metallic plated boots steps in front of her, the owner looming over the woman with unknown intent.

“Tired kiddo?” the richly warm voice asks, the soft tone somehow beating the rain and rapids. It’s so familiar… but the woman can’t place it.

The woman involuntarily nods, keeping her sight locked onto the boots.

“Alright, I hear ya. But how ‘bout just one more lap? Push yourself just a little bit further.”

The woman shakes her head, it’s too much. She simply didn’t have anything left in her to push.

“Alright. There’s no shame in stopping now, you did pretty good today kiddo! Proud of ya!”

The woman is unsure, but she believes she can feel a warmth press into the top of her lowered head. She opens her mouth, but no words are formed outside a whine. For reasons unclear to her, she wanted to apologize to this individual rather than ask for help.

“You get to choose when you are ready to stop, but I’m gonna tell ya right now, sometimes all it takes is ‘one’ last push to accomplish the impossible. I just want you to practice making that push so that you’ll be ready for when it really matters. It saved my butt more than once, I tell ya, heh… You sure you’re done?”

The woman looks up, but she sees no one there. Just the cave ahead behind the final obstacle.

One more push away…

Nearly faltering right away, she manages to stand upright one last time. She can’t feel the smooth pebbles and stones under her feet, in fact she can hardly feel much of anything. She wanders downstream, finding the most narrow section of river within a questionably reasonable amount of time. Then she ventures into the treeline, sorting through the brush until she snags a thick stick that’s as tall as her eye line. Like an armed zombie she sways back to the water. Death is upon her she knows, might as well go out trying.

Using the stick as a third supportive leg, the woman commits and starts to cross diagonally with the current. Long past the point of even trying to fully resist it, she finds herself depending on the stick not breaking under the stress. The poor thing bears her large frame more than her own two trembling legs. Not even halfway the water reaches her gut, and the force trying to sweep her away feels as though it’s constantly on the brink of winning. She knows that if she stops her efforts for even a fraction of a second, her demise is all but assured. And despite everything screaming within her to relax and give in, she eventually finds herself crossing the center point and nearing the other side.

The woman doesn’t remember much past that. She can’t clearly recall falling as she dragged herself out of the water. She only has the faintest of hazy images of stumbling back upstream. But soon the mouth of the cave is in front of her, and without pause she clambers in still using the stick for support. Within is pitch darkness, but the chilling wind is no more and the only moisture is that which clings to her body. She continues deeper and deeper until her legs stop working. The last thought she has is that if any monstrous creature calls this cave home, at the very least she beat death outside. And her reward of a dry floor to die on is well worth it.

-

Awaking, the woman groans as her wounds pulse in pain. Her hands, knees and feet are all throbbing from her previous adventure. Still cut up to all hell, she lies there unable to do much about it. Not knowing for how long her rewarded rest has been, her entire body still felt sorely drained. She decides to not move, and tries for further sleep. Actually managing to drift in and out of consciousness for some time, the woman’s brain eventually remains awake despite her efforts. Giving up on escaping into dreams, she seethes to sit up.

Daylight leaks in just enough to make out the walls of the cave, and the figures painted on them. The woman narrows her eyes, making out rough depictions of great beasts and smaller animals. Some are mere outlines while others are solid silhouettes. Her eyes follow the path of paintings until they land on a bulbous section of wall. It’s covered in hundreds of white and black handprints, none overlap yet are clusters so close together it takes a moment to make them out.

Driven by curiosity and hope that she isn’t alone, the woman scoots herself over to the handprint wall. Lifting a sore hand up, she touches the coarse wall over the closest print. Then as a primal ingrained behavior, she presses her entire hand over it.

“You’ve done well, child of Terra.” A low crackling voice speaks from behind her.

She rapidly turns to see a man sitting cross legged in the dead center of the cave. Right next to the spot where she woke up.

The man stares her down with bold green eyes, his long black hair adorning trinkets of bones and feathers while on his forehead is a distinct trapezoidal black marking. He is clad in furs and leather that look masterfully crafted, but crafted by hand nonetheless.

The woman opens her mouth to speak. But as the grunts and short howls escape her lips, she realises she is physically unable to formulate the words she intends. She can understand the words and meanings within her mind, but how they sound and how they are spelt is completely lost to her.

The man nods, expecting such a condition.

“Your raw soul has proven to be indomitable. A good start. However, it is merely a start. You have proven to hold the spirit to be one of our best, but to realize your potential you must be broken down and reborn. As we all were. Our mother… is Dead. But we are still her offspring, her legacy, her very nature incarnate.” the man raises a hand to clench into a fist, his expression steeled and cold, “The stars have made us as a people forget. Our history? Nothing more than echoes of stale memories. Before we were Terrans, we were Humans. And before that we were one of many Great Apes. Apes that conquered their Deathworld by being molded by it. The result of which is what we need to become once again.”

The woman understands his words, and as she attempts to replicate them aloud… there’s a mental barrier that prevents it. Angered from this, the woman eyes the man distrustfully. To this he nods to the wall behind her.

“Those are the markings of the reborn. If you survive your trials, you will join us. And you will be reborn anew… a rebirth into our oldest of ways. When the rest of our people die out, we will remain to bring us back from the brink. But this time we will remember our nature, we will remember who… we… are… The stars will not be our demise, I promise you. For they all will know of Terra’s children, and truly fear us. Others who dwell in the stars deem us of equal standing to what they call ‘Deathworlders’… what those fools fail to realize is… we are the only true Deathworlders. For we are the only ones who fully embody what that means. Show them Terran, and embrace who you really are.” The man finishes before disappearing in the blink of the woman’s eyes. As if he was nothing more than a vision.

Perturbed from this encounter, the woman feels a sharp headache come over her. Reaching up to her head, she feels something small and smooth on her forehead. Thinking it to be a mud-stuck piece of stone she attempts to peel it off, but it remains firm. To her great concern it’s not only connected to her skin, but the bone underneath as well. After the man’s words and her current predicament, an even more troubling feeling sinks down into her gut.

“Who am I?”

As her mind offers no answers of any kind, she begins to look herself over in a panic. Her musculature is significant and there are scars galore across most of her body parts. A fighter? A warrior?

Her thoughts race over who she was before coming here. Was this voluntary? Or had she been taken and dispensed? Growing desperate, she begins tugging at the thing on her forehead with great vigor, knowing full well it wasn’t supposed to be there. However it must have been entirely fused to her skull, as her nails digs into skin it proved unhelpful. The only thing she accomplished was causing blood to drip down into her eyes.

Aware enough to not further risk infection, Simone forces herself to get up and sorely venture her way back outside where she remembers the running river. As she steps outside, she needs to shield her eyes from the bright sunshine. The still running but thankfully far less monstrously aggravated river is there to greet her.

The woman hurries over to the water’s edge and begins washing herself, starting with her fresh self-induced heat cuts. As she does this, she stops. Her wavering reflection stares back at her with soiled red hair, a fair sized strong nose, and bright emerald narrow eyes. She can also see the mysterious addition to her forehead. To her dismay, it’s a dark metal material in the shape of a trapezoid.

Tearing her gaze away from that eyesore, she stares into her reflection expecting answers to come to her. Perhaps a name? A scrap of identity? Unfortunately there’s nothing but a general familiarity of appearance. This is her, it makes sense in how she looks. She just needs a more sense of self… perhaps a temporary name for comfort?

Looking herself over with the reflection carefully, she settles on a concept that’s simple and easily recognizable for her. Red.

Satisfied, ‘Red’ then quickly begins to wash down the rest of her body, being especially careful around her still very tender wounds. Not the most ideal manner of clean up, but for the moment it’s what she has to work with.

After all that, Red takes stock of her surroundings. She sees a dense forest where she emerged from and all around. The ‘trees’ as she recognized them as, have vibrant dark green leaves with a varied array of reddish barks. She then turns in place, noticing that other than her acquired stick was her only resource. Sure, she had shelter and a source of seemingly clean moving water. However she wasn’t fully confident in how safe it was to drink, especially after the recent flooding from the storm. Perhaps some exploring up and down stream is in order.

It’s then her gut rattles, having apparently not been fed in a long while. Sighing, Red starts heading back for her stick. If she is to survive, then she will have to get to work immediately.

-

“Does the prospect truly unnerve you so, Meeki?” Nodrin inquires somberly, as they struggle to keep pace with their companion through the dense forest.

“Dearest bondmate… I’ve no clue why this proposal for relocating to a mountain village has you so determined. What is this truly about? What’s so wrong with living in Topaiia? The walls are sturdy and the soldiers well trained.” Meeki responds as she climbs up a fallen log.

“Precisely! There’s a reason for it to be so! The rise of demons has been unprecedented! More and more just keep showing up to terrorize and devour us! And villages like Topaiia have seen the worst of it! Perhaps up in the mountains we can be safe.” Nodrin explains as they get up next to Meeki atop the log.

Their bondmate turns to them, looking incredulously with her four yellow eyes. Those four beautiful orbs are what Nodrin loved about her when they first met back in the farming trades between their respective families. They recall it was their first time meeting north-landers in fact. First seeing her dark green skin, they could not help but think it was so different yet beautiful compared to their own cyan covering. Nodrin thanks the gods of the sun table every day that Meeki felt a similar fashion. Now they get to travel the world with her, on a grand adventure until they find a place to call home.

Meeki’s eyes narrow at her bondmate’s staring, finding it humorously endearing. Whipping her long fur tuft tipped tail across their face she chitters, exposing her perfectly kept pointed teeth.

“Demons… dearest I adore you and your spiritual beliefs, but these ‘demons’ are no doubt animals. Dangerous animals perhaps, but if villages are encroaching on their territories, it only makes sense to notice more aggression. Once they are understood, I’m certain they will be no more of a menace than a thain.” Meeki assures, pressing a four clawed grasper on the side of her bondmate’s neck, just below their air intake vents.

“Meeki… thains don’t throw sharpened sticks…” Nodrin points out nervously.

“All the more reason to understand them!” Meeki deflects, “Besides, the mountains have been growing overcrowded and have little in the way of steam power engines.” she turns away and resumes her lead through the forest.

Nodrin shivers in defeat, understanding that once Meeki commits forward there’s little that can shift her path.

“That storm a few days ago was a harsh one… the worst I’ve seen. Even the locals seemed concerned.” Nodrin pipes up, deciding to change the conversation topic.

“Agreed, I spoke with the Jarl regarding it earlier. They claim that every time a storm comes, it brings these ‘demons’ with it.” Meeki responds, causing Nodrin to stop and stumble.

“Is that why we’re out here!?” they exclaim.

“No, no dearest. Not primarily that is. I fully intend on foraging as I volunteered for, but I thought it a perfect chance to seek out the source of such rumors myself.” the female explains.

“Meeki! Regardless of what the demons are, this is incredibly dangerous!”

“Perhaps, but we can’t get answers if we don’t search for them. I tried to dissuade you from coming along knowing.” Meeki defends coyly.

“You know wherever you go, I follow. That is what I promised you at our joining ceremony.” Nodrin insists.

“I know dearest… but I doubt that ceremonial oath was meant to be taken literally. You don’t have to have a claw to my tail at all times.” Meeki counters with a hint of warning.

Nodrin chittered glumly.

“I understand, but what if some peril was to befall you out here? In this case it is important that I’m here, is it not?” they say, fighting off the bit of shame in their voice.

“You are a good bondmate Nodrin, and never lack sense. Of course I’m thankful for you being here. I just wish you would prioritise your own self at times.”

“Fine… then I’ll sleep at an earlier time instead of preparing your favorite supper and singing your favorite song before bed…” Nodrin teases.

Meeki spins around in a flash, but before she can argue she catches herself.

“You… do what you must.” she forces out before marching on in a pout.

Nodrin cackles as they hurriedly come up from behind their bondmate.

“For someone so headstrong, you are an easy shell to crack at times. Worry not. I wouldn't dare skip our evening ritual.” they reassure Meeki softly, “But perhaps I will sleep in when the sun rises. Leaving you to make the market run.”

“That’s… agreeable…” Meeki concedes as Nodrin sets their jaw on her shoulder.

“Good, be sure to get a bushel of chundaa while you’re out tomorrow.”

“Fine…”

“Thank you deare-” Nodrin says before a loud knock echoes throughout the forest.

Both Gratt jump and scan around for the source.

“What was that?” Nodrin asks.

“A weakened branch perhaps fell off a tree? From the storm?” Meeki poses, also on edge.

“I honestly hope so… we should turn back in case it isn’t that.” Nodrin insists, taking their bondmate’s grasper into their own.

Meeki gently removed her grasper from Nodrin and unholsters the bow packed on her back.

“I’m going to check for certain. I believe that it came from near the Jilatan river. You don’t have to join me if that’s your wish.” she informs.

“Meeki… grahh… very well… Lead on.”

Greatly quickening their pace, Nodrin trails close behind Meeki as they dash through the trees until the sounds of moving water is heard in their long pointed ears.

Meeki stops, pressing a grasper to Nodrin’s chest. She’s looking down to the ground.

“What is it?” Nodrin inquires, glancing to where their bondmate’s focus is, “Oh, a tava pool? Good spotting, certainly wouldn’t want to get dragged down-”

“Look…” Meeki interrupts, pointing a claw to a nearby tree.

The two lock onto a purple blood stained trunk, much of it appears to have run down to the ground in a somewhat diluted patch.

“That looks like… tava blood… but… it takes a team of three at least to fish one out. Was there a hunting party out recently?” Nodrin says, confused.

“Not since the storm… and hunters use knives to slay tava. Not trees.” Meeki replied before sniffing the air only to cringe, “Sulfur?” she mumbles before turning towards the direction of the river.

As it comes into view the scent of smoke and cooked flesh becomes clear. Then as the river comes into view, the smoke is seen. It whisps and drizzles out from the opening of a cave on the other side.

“Someone is out here? A traveler perhaps? Did they get trapped out in the storm?” Nodrin ponders aloud.

“It appears so. Something's not quite right however. I’m going in for a closer look.” Meeki says as she starts to move forward.

Nodrin grabs her shoulder to stop her progress.

“What if it’s brigands or outlaws? Or… demons…” Nodrin warns in great concern.

“Don’t be silly Nodrin, I very much doubt animals can cook with fire. And if there’s outlaws then the village ought to know, but I should confirm it before causing a scene. If I do get caught and it looks bad then I’ll need you to go back for help.”

“Then don’t get caught… I cherish you, Meeki.” Nodrin says.

“And I adore you, Nodrin. Keep a lookout.” Meeki replies softly before making her way to the water.

She swims quickly to the other side with little effort and nimbly maneuvers her way to the side of the cave. Peeking in, she sees a healthy fire crackling with a smoking tava above it. It’s skewered to a stick to keep it up off the ground. Perhaps someone is here, but not seeing anyone within her analytical sight catches a pattern on one of the cave walls. Not able to make it out clearly, she makes her way inside quietly.

Her well traveled boots making only the slightest of padded sounds, she creeps up to the fire. There’s a stacked pile of wood close to it to encourage drying out. And there’s an assortment of scattered rocks that have been chipped at. Two selected rocks sit near the fire as if special from the rest, the Gratt snatches them up to inspect. She smells each, recoiling slightly from the stench of sulfur.

“Flint and pyrite. Whoever is here is resourceful.” she thinks as she sets the rocks down right where she found them. Meeki then looks at the cooking tava to notice that it had already been cooked and partially eaten once before. Strange teeth marks cover half the dead animal and are seared over.

Unable to make out much of anything else about it, Meeki curiously turns to the bulging wall. Strange flowering shapes of black and white cover it. Perhaps this was an artist painting a field of flowers of some sort?

“No… wait…” Meeki thinks as she approaches, noticing that each of the ‘flowers’ held a very distinct shape.

As she gets right up to it she can make out some more details, such as the faint patterning of skin… and lack of brush marks… Slowly, Meeki lifts up an open grasper towards herself, holding it up to one of the ‘flowers’ side by side. Dread begins to sink into the young Gratt.

These are grasper prints… but not ones of the Gratt… and animals don’t make art… or cook their prey…

What this implies causes her insides to lurch.

“Another species of people? This is huge… truly one of the greatest discoveries our kind have ever made.” she thinks, feeling a tad dizzy, “I must tell someone! This is incredible!”

Meeki quickly backs away from the wall and hurries towards the exit. But she stops dead in her tracks. A hulking figure stands in the way, a long sharpened stick in one grasper, and a bundle of wood wrapped under its other arm. Green gleaming eyes are set on Meeki.

How long had it been there? Was it watching this whole time? Had it purposely trapped her in here?

Meeki slowly claws for an arrow at her hip, but the creature releases a low knowing grunt in warning.

“It knows what bows and arrows are…” the Gratt realizes, lifting her craws away from the projectiles.

The creature’s face distorts and twists as it makes odd noises, its ‘speech’ sounding strained and uneasy.

“Do… you understand me?” Meeki asks.

The eyes of the unknown individual narrow in confusion, as it attempts its own speech again. The efforts seem to make it frustrated and angered. Meeki raises her grasper up defensively and takes a hesitant step towards it.

“There’s no need to fight, I’m sorry I intruded on your home. So very sorry… I will leave you alone if you let me pass, would that be alright?” Meeki says in her soothest tone, making a pointing gesture to herself and out past the creature.

Still not understanding the spoken words, its grasper clenches the stick. However there is recognition in the Gratt’s gesturing. That’s something at least. It glances back and returns to the Gratt, causing its wild reddish head fur to flutter, fully revealing a metallic gleam on its upper face.

It remains in place as it drops the bundle of collected firewood. Meeki jumps back, claws on her arrows once more. The creature smacks an open grasper on its chest and chokes out warbling grunts. Face tightening in anger it begins hitting its own face with a fist and stomps one of its legs.

Taking the gamble, Meeki dashes forward and around in the creature’s violent fit. Panic strikes her as the two-heads-taller beast reaches out for her. It’s close as the pinkish-tan skin grazes her, speed is thankfully more in her favor.

The creature roars and lurches after her as she dashes to the river. Meeki expects the thing to pursue her after crossing, but as she makes it into the treeline she hears the distant barking and hollering of the creature. Hiding away behind a tree, she ventures a peek back. Through the brush she witnesses the creature throwing rocks in absolute rage. But the rocks are thrown in complete random directions, and not to where she ran.

Eventually it falls into a softer whimpering as it sits itself at the cave’s opening. It covers its face with a grasper before hitting at its forehead again.

Nodrin had no doubt ran off to get help as soon as the creature had shown itself. Meeki thinks on what to do next… if she informs the village of this new… individual… they may jump to conclusions. ‘Demons’ being said conclusions. Despite her initial intent to tell someone about this discovery and revelation, it dawns on her that perhaps a more hands-on approach is required. The creature was terrifying and seemingly prone to violence, but it could’ve hurt her at any moment. It wants something from her… Meeki’s eyes fall onto her quiver of arrows.

“It might just want what I have…” she whispers thoughtfully.

If so, then this all might’ve been a big misunderstanding. They didn’t share language, but perhaps gesturing may prove effective.

An epiphany strikes Meeki then. Not only could this be the grand wondrous adventure she had been searching for, but she may have the opportunity to change her entire world depending on what she decides on next.

With a nod, she commits herself to study and possibly communicate with this creature. If there’s another species like her’s sharing this world, it’s of the most importance to start things off with a measured touch…

…Which begins with chasing and stopping her bondmate from stirring up the nearby village to start a demon hunt.