InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Battle in the Snow ❯ Chapter 1

Can two people who aren't quite sure they're friends fight together? Based on scenes from “A Tragic Love Song” (anime episodes 137-138).

 

 

 

Battle in the Snow

 

 

 

 

 

Winter had set in hard. A brief warm spell had transformed the snow on roofs to long icicles, but the brief respite had already faded. Peering down from the top of the village's main storage building, Inuyasha debated whether to head back to the forest for a quick hunt and retreat to shelter. He hadn't seen any activity since his earlier jaunt to chase away a trio of youkai. He hadn't spoken to Kikyo in days, and he knew that humans generally stayed within their flimsy huts as much as possible during this season, exiting only to feed their livestock and retrieve wood and water. Kikyo would undoubtedly be doing the same, spending her time huddling close to a fire, far more interested in keeping her fragile body warm, than in spending time in the windswept outdoors with him.

 

Inuyasha fidgeted, claws scraping through the ice underneath the growing layer of snow. A vague thought came to him, that if he really wanted to talk with Kikyo, he could always go to her hut. The thought was smacked down with a mental sneer—what, expose his nose to the sickening tang of a human's hut interior—that disgusting combination of unwashed human, burnt wood, spoiling food, moldering straw and worse—

 

Besides, she might think he was seeking warmth—she'd already expressed concern about his bare feet. As if!

 

Not to mention what the villagers might think if they saw him go to the hut.

 

Humans were quite capable of forming mobs even in winter.

 

With an unvoiced grumble, Inuyasha rose to his feet, ears canting downwards at the thought of the long, boring moons ahead of him. Hunt, he reminded himself. He'd go for the challenge of a wild pig: a young one. It was still early enough in the season to be fat, and a young one would be tender and tasty. He'd be limited to the lean, tough, aged or sick beasts soon enough, but one feast wouldn't hurt the herd. Young, tender--

 

“Inuyasha, lend me your power.”

 

He whipped around, nearly slipping, as her voice took him by surprise. Kikyo stared up at him, dressed in a hat and straw cape in addition to her usual attire. Inuyasha stared at her a moment, nonplussed at her appearance. “Inuyasha?”

 

“What's this, all of a sudden?” he asked, blinking, surprised as her words sank in. “The miko wants help from a hanyo?” he couldn't help asking, with an edge of sarcasm.

 

“I've been asked to exterminate a demon from another country,” she explained patiently, showing no reaction to his words. “But even I will have my hands full. Its destruction will be more sure, if both of us go.”

 

“Hah!” Inuyasha jumped to the ground, his blood already surging in glee. She wanted his help! “This is going to cost ya!”

 

Her smile was amused. “I'm sure. Thank-you, Inuyasha.”

 

“So where are we going?” he demanded. “And where's your bow—you're not going after a youkai without your bow.”

 

“Of course not—I just came to talk to you first. Kaede's filling my pack for me—she'll do one for you as well, if you want.”

 

“What do I need a pack for?” he gave her an astonished look.

 

“We'll probably be camping at least two nights, and we're heading into the mountains,” she said. “We'll need supplies and blankets.”

 

“Keh! Speak for yourself, woman!” he retorted. “I can find my own food, and a blanket just gets in the way!”

 

“I don't want to waste time foraging, Inuyasha.”

 

He snorted. “You think I can't hunt and keep up with you? I'm not some slow-footed human!”

 

Kikyo looked away, adjusting her hat. “I was just making an offer.”

 

“Keh.” Inuyasha huffed softly, but his ears sank as he realized he'd hurt her feelings. He hadn't meant to—humans were slow travelers compared to him, but Kikyo didn't seen to care for the reminder. Silently, he followed to her hut, and then jumped lightly to its roof, only to leap off again, as he heard the rooftree creak underneath its load. Standing well away from the door, he thrust his hands into his sleeves, and tried to not listen to the whispered conversation inside. He stuck his nose to the wind and listened for anything that might possibly be dangerous.

 

“Inuyasha.” He turned to see Kaede sticking her head past the door curtain, eyes dark with annoyance. “Come here and take this.” She held a leather-wrapped bundle about twice the width of her wrist and half the length of her forearm.

 

“Why?” he asked, not stirring. “What is it?”

 

“It's a fire-making kit—in this weather, you should both have one. Even if you don't think you need it.”

 

His ears snapped forward at her third word. He was beside the door in a flash, oblivious to her sarcasm, looking down at the bundle, eyes wide. “You're giving me a fire-kit?” he asked.

 

“Consider it down payment on what I owe you,” called Kikyo.

 

Inuyasha took the wrapped leather gently. Kaede disappeared inside as he stared at the oiled leather in his hands. He'd shattered his last bit of decent flint last spring, and not found anything to strike sparks since. He'd been eating food raw all too often of late, too impatient and hungry to take the time to use the fire-bow he'd made. Teasing open the knots with his claws, he carefully unrolled the leather and verified its contents—a fine piece of flint, a short length of rough iron, and a roll of tinder. Refastening the roll, he tucked it carefully inside his fire-rat robe. Staring at bamboo mat, he wondered what he should do. He should probably go inside the hut and thank them. But he still didn't want to go inside a smoky, smelly hut, and she said it was a payment, so he didn't really owe them thanks, did he? But Kaede had given it to him, someone had given him something that was really useful, and he knew what his mother would say he should do…

 

“Uh…” he shifted his weight. “I, uh, … thanks…”

 

He felt like an idiot, talking to a bamboo curtain. He didn't even know if he had spoken loud enough to be heard inside.

 

Kikyo came out; eyes warm under the brim of her hat, a smile on her face. “You're welcome.”

 

Inuyasha felt a warmth on his face that had nothing to with the weather.

 

“Let's go, shall we?”

 

She turned away and he followed. Content, at that moment, to follow her anywhere.

 

 

 

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Kikyo paused as she came to an open spot on the trail. It forked, straight ahead and to the right, the latter ascending up a moderately steep slope. Looking around in the fading light, she spotted a half-buried stone post. Sweeping enough snow from around it to find the symbols chipped into it, she verified that she had found her turn off. Looking up, she sighed. She knew there was a campsite not too far away, but it would be nearly dark by the time she found it—if she hurried. If she could—her feet had gone numb long ago.

 

She started up the trail, then halted as she sensed Inuyasha's aura. He hadn't stayed next to her at any time during the day for longer than it took a Buddhist monk to recite prayers over his rosary, but he hadn't gone out of her sensing range until this last bit.

 

He dropped down from the sky and landed beside her. Without a word, he grabbed her about the waist and jumped again. “Inuyasha!” she exclaimed, with a frisson of fear flashing through her spine. “Let me go!” She shoved at him. “Let go!”

 

The hanyo dropped back to the trail and released her, glaring at her, ears half-flattening. “What's your problem? I was just going to take you to the camp I made.”

 

Kikyo tried to make her heart stop hammering. “You should have asked me! You—scared me!”

 

He bristled. “I wasn't going to hurt you!”

 

“And I know that, how?”

 

Inuyasha gaped at her a moment, then vaulted away without a word.

 

 

 

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It was dark before Kikyo got the lean-to set up and the fire started. Huddling in her blanket, waiting for the rice in her small pot to cook, the priestess regretted her words to the hanyo. If only he hadn't startled her so badly! She'd been so scared for that moment, so conscious of all the horror stories of what the youkai-blooded could do to a solitary woman, the words had come from her mouth without thought. Of course she knew he wouldn't hurt her—he'd saved her little sister, hadn't he? He hadn't made any obvious efforts to steal the Shikon No Tama since they'd first talked. She could trust him, couldn't she? Even if he was just a hanyo. Couldn't she?

 

Something thumped into the ground on the other side of the fire. Peering through the flames, she saw that it was a skewered rabbit. Pulling the stake out of the ground before returning to her seat, she discovered that the meat was already cooked through, and still warm. She opened her mouth to thank the hanyo, before realizing that his aura was rapidly fading from her senses. Sighing, she worked the stake back into the ground, to keep the meat warm until the rice was finished. Why couldn't he have stayed around so she could at least thank him? They could have shared the meal, and talked…

 

 

 

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Inuyasha set next to his own fire, licking his claws to make sure that he had all the grease from the rabbit off his hands. He was warm, dry—and disgruntled. Why did that woman have to shriek in his ears, then as much as say she didn't trust him? She could have had a nice, dry cave to sleep in, instead of that lean-to to cower under. He supposed he should have warned her first, but still—!

 

He started to kill his fire. Fires were nice, and certainly kept away most mortal creatures, who tended to fear fire. But fire could attract youkai, who tended to associate fire with human prey. He didn't want to worry about killing half a dozen youkai because they didn't realize he was hanyo, not human, in time. And it wasn't like he needed a fire to keep from freezing, unlike humans—

 

Kikyo was human. Who would be trying to keep her fire going all night. Her site was fairly defensible, but it still was fairly easy to spot with youkai senses.

 

She was a miko, he reminded himself. She had miko powers and could defend herself. He didn't have to worry about her. If she hadn't had enough sense to ask him to find the best place to camp, why worry about her? Silly woman, insisting on doing things her way.

 

But she was just a woman.

 

And she'd talked to him. Even wanted to know his name.

 

Had asked for his help.

 

He didn't—he didn't want anything to happen to her.

 

Inuyasha stared out into the night, growling to himself, full and comfortable, and not wanting to move. And then he sighed, stood up, and left.

 

 

 

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Kikyo wasn't surprised to sense Inuyasha's aura when she woke up. Digging up the pot she'd buried in the ashes the night before, she built the fire back up with the wood she'd stored under the lean-to. Placing a second pot of water over the fire, she then dismissed her protective barrier. “Inuyasha?” she called, confident that he was within hearing distance. “Come down and join me for breakfast.”

 

“Keh.” A branch creaked, and then he dropped down to the other side of the fire. In the darkness, his eyes glowed green as they reflected the light. He looked to settle where he was, but she beckoned to him.

 

“Come over to this side—it'll be warmer here.”

 

He did as she asked, sitting cross-legged next to her, though keeping a bit of space between them. Scraping the rice from the pot, she shaped it into two balls, then passed one, along with a left-over rabbit leg, to Inuyasha.

 

“I don't need your food,” he bristled.

 

She smiled at him, refusing to be annoyed by his edginess. “You've already shared with me, can I not share with you?”

 

He blinked at her, before taking the items. The rice ball disappeared in two bites, and not many more for the leg. Kikyo nibbled at her own food, keeping an eye on the water, wondering just how hungry Inuyasha was, to eat so quickly. Had he given her the only thing he'd caught last night? Had he gone without food, just to make sure she ate?

 

“Here.” Looking up from her musings, she was surprised to see two small, frost-bitten apples in his hand. “I found the tree while catching rabbits,” he said. “I've got more, if you want.”

 

“Oh, thank-you!” she exclaimed. The apples trees near the village had born poorly this year, and she had not felt right taking any from the stores. She bit happily into the first apple, savoring the sweetness, chewing on the wrinkled skin.

 

“So, just where are we off to?” asked Inuyasha, after she had finished eating the fruit.

 

“There's a village that supports fur-trappers—it's about two days past the next village, which we should come to this afternoon. There's a youkai that's attacking the men when they leave the village. It's killed seven so far...” Her eyes suddenly stung. “Including a miko,” she added in a whisper.

 

“That's why you wanted my help?”

 

Kikyo nodded, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “I—I knew Noriko from the temple,” she whispered. “We—trained together. She—she had a lot of power—she should have been able to handle most youkai. But she didn't …”

 

There was a long moment of silence from her companion. “Keh,” he finally said, with an edge of smugness. “There ain't no way that youkai'll take you out with me around. That youkai's dead, it just doesn't know it yet.”

 

She looked up, to meet his cocky smirk. “Sure of yourself, aren't you?”

 

He cracked his knuckles, letting his smirk broaden. “Between you and me, that youkai ain't got a chance. It's killed its last miko—believe it.”

 

She managed a smile.

 

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Inuyasha disappeared before she came to the village, and didn't reappear until the next morning, well after it had disappeared behind her. Not really surprised, she handed him a packet of rice-balls she had tucked away in her sleeve. Despite a rather irritable expression, he took the food without arguing, consuming it just as quickly as he had the day before. Kikyo was tempted to ask him if he always ate that fast, but refrained, not wanting to be seen as criticizing rather than trying to tease the prickly boy. The day passed much as the first one had, with Inuyasha more away from her side than by her side, but always swinging back, as if she were the center of his orbit. That evening, he made no attempt to take her to his chosen place of camp, rather appearing once she had stopped, with an armful of wood, four small game-birds, and several handfuls of nuts. He disappeared again, returning when the birds had time to cook. Any hope she had of conversation vanished when he bolted his meal and then jumped away, leaving her not halfway through her first bird, looking at his vacated spot with dismay.

 

It was snowing the next morning, when Kikyo awoke. Preparing breakfast, she waited for Inuyasha to appear. When he settled down next to her, she started to extend the rice-balls in her hand, then drew back when he reached for them. “Inuyasha,” she said, “I need you to stay close to me today.”

 

He gave her a startled glare. “Why?”

 

“We should reach the village today, and presumably the youkai's territory. We could be attacked before we reach the village.”

 

The hanyo considered a moment, before nodding. “I also need you to come with me into the village.”

 

He startled, and his ears flattened as his eyes widened. “No!”

 

Kikyo met his gaze, determined to get her way. “I need you with me, Inuyasha. If they have anything to say about this youkai, I need you to hear it from them, not second-hand from me. I need you to ask questions of the people who may have seen this youkai. You may ask about something I overlook. If we're going to fight this youkai together, then we need to be together.”

 

His ears shivered but did not rise. “They won't want me there! I'm a hanyo! A monster! They won't let you in, if I'm with you!”

 

“Then they won't get their youkai-slayers,” she said coldly. “Inuyasha, I asked you to come on this journey. If we're to fight this youkai together, then we need to start working together. We need to be together. And I don't want to risk you facing this youkai alone.”

 

He looked away, hand fisted on his thigh. Kikyo studied him, concerned. “Inuyasha,” she said, as a thought occurred to her, “Have you been to this village before?” He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head. “Then what is the problem?”

 

“Mountain villages … are walled,” he finally said, in a barely audible whisper. “It's easier … to be trapped.” She wasn't sure if she saw him shiver. “And they hate … more … Lowland villagers … just chase you away, with sticks and stones. Mountain villagers … they hunt to kill…”

 

“Oh, `Yasha!” Without thinking, she reached over and clasped his wrist, as she suddenly realized his fear. As she realized that she had never really considered how life must be from his view—a being constantly despised, loathed, hated—and hunted.

 

He whipped his head around at her touch, stared at her a moment, looked down at her fingers touching his wrist, looked back at her face with wide eyes. With a jolt, Kikyo realized that it was the first time she had touched him. Not just the momentary brush of fingertips that might occur during the exchange of an object, but a deliberate touch.

 

“I won't let them hurt you, Inuyasha,” she said, forcing herself to return to the topic at hand. She felt the warm, smooth skin beneath her fingertips, and the slightly rough, equally warm fabric of the fire-rat robe where it edged over her hand.

 

He dropped his gaze back to her clasp on his hand. Slowly, he raised his wrist, then just as slowly, moved his hand until her fingers were resting on his palm. She felt the hard points of his claws against her wrist, but did not, at that moment, fear them. He looked up at her again, and for a moment, his face was open and vulnerable, with a look of faint wonder, his ears pricked forward.

 

It didn't last, of course. Dropping her hand, as if it were suddenly afire, he abruptly turned away, shoving his hands into his sleeves. “Keh!” he snapped. “I'll do it! But it'll cost you more! Yeah—twice more!”

 

Kikyo let herself smile.

 

 

 

Inuyasha let himself lag behind Kikyo, as the wind in his face carried the first reek of the human village. They were crossing an area bare of anything except rocks and wind-flung snow, but he knew that the village was probably sheltering in the lee of the next mountain over. Hands shoved up his sleeves, he wondered what spell the miko had cast on him, to make him agree to enter a walled village. A village of hunters would almost certainly contain people who knew how to slay youkai. What if this were just some sort of elaborate trap—no, it couldn't be, he'd never smelled a lie on Kikyo, save that one time when she'd pretended to have forgotten the present. With her powers, she didn't need a trap. But what if this was some sort of trap planned by someone else? How had Kikyo found out about the youkai, anyway? Was it a trap—for Kikyo? Was it—

 

He caught a glimpse of a gray figure—far too late. Even before he could open his mouth to yell a warning, the cat-shaped youkai was diving towards the miko. Her bow was in her hand, but he knew, fast as even she was, that there was no time to grab an arrow from the quiver and fire. Inuyasha lunged forward, but knowing, even as his muscles tensed to leap, that he would never be in time.

 

The long, black bow abruptly blazed in shades of purple, pink and white. The youkai hit the edge of that sudden aura, and bounced off, howling. “Inuyasha!” he heard her shout, “It's coming your way!”

 

Adrenaline flashed, and fused with his relief, as he leapt forward. “Leave `im to me!” The youkai saw him and matched his leap, the long, saber-tooth fangs fully revealed. Hand arched, Inuyasha slashed forward, invoking his youki with the yell, “Sakontessou!” Golden arches slashed through the charging youkai. The form shattered into a million fragments, leaving behind a dark cloud that was the core of the youkai. Inuyasha watched it scud downwind. “Kikyo,” he shouted, as he heard her run up behind him, “that's its true form!”

 

“Right!” Arrow clacked against bow, and then the bow creaked as the arrow was drawn back. Blazing with the fire of a miko's power, the arrow zoomed through the air, slashing through the middle of the cloud. A growl emanated from the cloud, and then it disintegrated into tiny sparks, quickly dispersed and blown out by the wind.

 

“Heh! That got him!”

 

She didn't answer. Turning around, he saw that she was staring off into the distance where the youkai had been destroyed, a worried expression on her face. He followed her gaze, wondering why she looked troubled. At first, he could only feel the wind and the snow. But then, he felt it. A power, rising quickly, as if dropping a cloak. A black whirlwind formed on the edge of the plateau, shimmering into the apparent form of a black-haired, white-skinned noble woman dressed in rich clothes that were not of a style he had ever seen before. And Inuyasha swallowed, feeling the youki flaring around the woman. He didn't think she was a taiyoukai—she did not have the sense of power that exuded from his brother, even when Sesshomaru had his youki locked down to its greatest extent. But the oni he had battled a few months before were weaklings compared to her.

 

Her aura flared with rage. “How dare you kill my cub!”

 

The bow behind him creaked as Kikyo drew it to full extension. “You cub attacked us, lady youkai,” she called out. “And either you or your cub killed people in the village nearby—including a miko.”

 

The youkai snarled. “Those mortals tried to kill my cub! They trapped him: that bitch was killing him, of course I killed her! Just as I will kill you!” With a howl, she transformed into a pure white snow cat, thrice as tall at the shoulder as the first one—and twice as broad. The wind howled, as if increasing from her rage, and she sank into a crouch, ready to leap at them.

 

“I'll distract her!” Inuyasha yelled, running forward. “Wait for it!” Charging forward, he didn't know if Kikyo replied, all his attention on the giant youkai before him. He threw his golden claws ahead of him, only to see the youkai dodge. Then it was his turn to dodge, only to underestimate her speed. A paw larger than his head lashed out, catching his left arm, raking it from shoulder to wrist. Slammed into the snow, he rolled violently and scrambled to his feet, to find the youkai turning away from him. Oh, no, you don't! he snarled silently, as he brought the fingers of his good hand down the length of his wounded arm. “Hijinkessou!” he yelled, throwing his blades of blood. They shredded her flank, and she shorted her jump, yowling, whirling to face him. She howled again as an arrow took her in the side of the neck, blowing out a huge hole. Launching herself, the youkai leapt to the other side of the plateau, then whirled back to face them, snarling.

 

“You should never have brought your cub to this land, lady youkai,” said Kikyo quietly, a bow notched and ready, another held between her last two fingers. “I am sorry for your loss, but I cannot allow you to leave after killing humans. I will pray that your soul finds peace.”

 

The youkai snarled, and lunged forward. “Wait, `Yasha!” yelled Kikyo. Inuyasha set himself, and waited, letting more blood spill onto his right hand. The youkai was moving fast, jinking back and forth almost too fast for his eyes to follow. But he knew from experience Kikyo's skill with a bow, and so he waited.

 

Two arrows sprang from the bow in rapid succession. The youkai screamed as the arrows slammed into her chest. She staggered, and Inuyasha dashed forward, delivering another spread of blood-claws that sliced into her head and neck, taking out her eye. She screamed, flinging her head back and forth, then cried out as an arrow took out her other eye. She collapsed to her belly, howling, and Inuyasha leapt upward. At the apex of his leap, he slashed downward, yelling with all the strength left to him, “Sankontessou!” Golden claws and sacred arrow reached her at almost the same instant, and the doomed youkai's body exploded, disintegrating. Inuyasha came down, feet sinking through the snow to discover slanted ground and a sharp rock. He yelped as he lost his balance and crashed to his knees.

 

“Inuyasha!” Trying to ignore a wave of dizziness, he pushed himself up to his feet. Kikyo was watching the cloud of youki as the wind shredded it, an arrow still on her bow. “How badly are you hurt?”

 

“Keh!” He tried to pretend that his arm did not hurt like hell, limping slowly towards her. “Only a scratch.”

 

“For only a scratch, you're leaking a lot of blood,” she commented, flicking her eyes at him. “I don't think there's any more youkai around.”

 

Bracing his feet against the ground, Inuyasha closed his eyes to concentrate on his nose and youkai senses. “All I can smell is blood and a village full of stinking humans,” he offered after a moment.

 

“And a stinking miko?”

 

He opened his eyes, looked at her, and flattened his ears as he remembered one of the first insults he'd hurled at her. “She doesn't stink as much as I probably do,” he offered softly. Then he blinked, and found himself on his knees without remembering how he'd done so.

 

“This is bad, Inuyasha—I can see bone.” He blinked again, and realized that Kikyo was kneeling next to him, examining his arm. He tried to shrug.

 

“It'll heal in a couple of days—don't worry about it.”

 

“Maybe so, but only if you don't bleed out first. Just hold still and let me work.”

 

Inuyasha blinked again, and felt absolutely no desire to move. Feeling only vague surprise, he realized that the woman was tending his arm, wrapping it with a roll of cloth she'd taken from her backpack. She said something, but he didn't notice what he said, drifting in a fog of wonder, that someone was touching him, helping him, out of her own free will. No one had done that, since his mother had died. He had only had himself, for so long. No one to tend his wounds. No one to comfort him. No one to touch him. No one to smile at him. No one to talk with him, rather than yell at him, or scream at his presence. She was helping him, helping him, a despised hanyo.

 

“Inuyasha—is something wrong? You're crying.”

 

Blinking, he came back to himself, realizing that his arm had been firmly wrapped and immobilized against his chest, and that Kikyo was kneeling in front of him, looking at him with concerned eyes. His strength was returning, and with it, a pulse of embarrassment as his mind registered what she had just said.

 

“Crying?” He stared at her, trying to look offended. “I ain't crying—it's just snowflakes, melting on my face.” Her mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile, and he felt his cheeks warm. Desperately looking for a distraction, he said, “We make a pretty good pair of youkai-hunters, don't we?”

 

She smiled, but sadly. “Yes, we do. I wish we didn't need to be, but…”

 

“Keh. Most youkai are just evil, Kikyo—there's no choice.”

 

Her eyes looked even sadder. “I know, Inuyasha—there's no choice, not for me, not as long as the Shikon No Tama is in my care.” She closed her eyes and took a long breath before opening them again. “Now let's get you up, and go to the village. I want to clean that arm and sew up the worst gashes—you may heal fast, but will you heal right?”

 

“Keh—I always heal—I've taken worse.” He shrugged off her assistance and stood, secretly relieved that his head seemed to be clearing. She stood up beside him, adjusting the pack. As she shifted her bow and started to take a step forward, he dared to reach out and touch her shoulder, stopping her.

 

“Do we have to go inside the village?” he asked, letting his ears droop. She gave him a questioning look. “With the youkai dead, they really won't want to let me in. Couldn't we just go to the gate, tell them the youkai's dead, maybe get some supplies, and then head home?” She hesitated, and he added, cocking his head, “I won't ask for anything else, for helping you out,” he added slyly. “Not even that present you pretended you'd forgotten to bring along, that time.”

 

She blushed, and looked away. “It-it wasn't—it wasn't really a gift—I was afraid you were trying to trick me, and I… I was—wrong, and I'm—sorry.”

 

“Keh—everyone knows hanyos aren't to be trusted.” Her eyes swept back to meet his, anger in their depths. “You—you trusted me enough to ask for my help, Kikyo. That's—that's payment—enough.”

 

“Oh, Inuyasha.” She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with almost tears. “All right, my friend. We'll do it your way. Let's go talk to the villagers—and then we'll head home.”

 

She turned towards the trail that led to the village, and he followed, a single word echoing in his head. Friend. She'd called him friend.

 

He had—a friend.

 

 

 

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The End