So You Want to be a Ranger?

Lycosia stared out over the bridge. It was broad, it was stone.

"It's a big, fat target waiting to happen," Lycosia muttered to herself.

She looked behind her. In the trees the stalker lay flat against a rock.

"It's won't be the last time I ask you to do something uncomfortable you know."

The stalker huffed and ears flat, he got up. His grey coat slunk into the sunlight. On his muzzle and flanks were broad black scars where his fur refused to grow. Lycosia put her hand on his head. He bumped her chin with his muzzle. The silent speech was enough.

The young ranger walked to one side of the bridge, the stalker the other. They hugged the sides and their wariness showed in every step. Halfway across Lycosia stopped behind one of the large pillars to take a deep breath. She put an arrow to her bow and moved forward once again. Her skin prickled with the feeling of being 'watched.'

A flicker of red and orange was all the warning the duo had. Lycosia fired an arrow that flew through a ball of fire before flinging herself off the side of the bridge to avoid the flame that burst violently behind her. She could smell the heat of the fire as it singed her boots. The stalker leaped forward and traversed the bridge in bounding leaps.

The sounds of the stalker mercilessly ripping his prey to pieces drifted down to Lycosia as she rose back out of the water, sputtering and searching for a way up the bank. A hand grasped hers and she found herself yanked onto the bank.

"The stalker! Watch out!" she coughed. A feline scream was the only warning as the stalker flung itself at the person who had given her a hand. Blinking river water from her eyes Lycosia desperately reached out a hand to stop the stalker.

"no! No!"

There was a moment of silence, but when Lycosia looked around fearing the worst, she saw the stalker, on top of a man wearing furs. The fangs of the stalker were inches from the man's throat, but there they stayed. The breath of the stalker slid across the goosebumps that stood out on the mans skin. Lycosia spat out the last of the river water and stood up.

"Release him."

The stalker slid away slowly, reluctantly. The man pulled himself as far away from the stalker as he could manage before regaining his feet.

"You're lucky. If I could not speak to him, he would have slain you. Who are you?"

"my lady..." the man whispered "I am Orovere. I am a..trader. Are you well?"

Lycosia squeezed the water from her shoulder length hair and glanced at the stalker.

"I think I'm in rather good hands. Don't you?"

"My lady...crossing the bridge in the middle of the day was...foolish at best. Didn't you see the flamestrike mages??"

At the mans agitated tone the stalker snarled, causing him to cringe back. Lycosia looked at him steadily.

"I am looking for a man. A ranger. His name is Orwell. Perhaps you know of him?"

The man nodded, his eyes pinned to the stalkers every muscle movement.

"Ye..yes. He's my cousin. You can find him up there, on that hill over yonder. But wait! How will you get there? There are mages in between here and there!"

Lycosia lifted her bow and with a smooth movement, restrung the smooth wood with a dry string.

"Well, now that I know about them..."

Nocking an arrow, Lycosia turned, sighted and fired. A strangled choking noise heralded the fall of the body of a mage behind them. To the shock of the trader, she turned and walked away confidently.

The hill was not far and a few short hours later, they reached their destination.

It was Lycosia's surprise, however, to come upon a tall, thin man dressed in green leather standing out in the open. His tone as he spoke, was full of scorn.

"So, you want to be a Ranger."