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[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

57th Fall 512AV

There were few mornings where Serrif didn’t feel like running. He wanted to switch things up every now and then because running was starting to feel like a habit. So instead he decided to maybe do a little archery training. But even that was starting to feel standard to him. He needed something that switched things up for him. And since the Zith attack he knew it would be good for him to hone his bow skills some more before they were really needed again. So he began to formulate a training schematic in his mind. He needed some active archery something that would simulate battlefield stressors while still remaining safe.

He would do this on the beach like usual but how to go about constructing all of it was a little beyond him. So he went through all the things he had in his mind. There was some long wooden planks that were still considered scrap. He could dig end ends of them into the sand and stand them upright as makeshift targets. Yes that would work nicely. But how many? He went topside and looked through one of the piles that they had burned to fend off the Zith attack. There was still usable wood among it all. He scavenged through and found nine boards of adequate length. Some of them more charred than others but all of them in relatively good condition. They would be enough for targets anyway.

He carried them down to the beach after stopping by his room and picking up his climbers quiver and longbow. Picking back up his pile he was careful not to wake anyone. It was still very early in the morning and some of the staff liked sleep. He on the other hand always seemed to be waking up early. He couldn’t ever really sleep in these days, he would wake early as he usually did in Mura.

He looked down the beach and felt the breeze on his body. A smile crept across his face and he began to put the entire thing together. He wanted to put down five firing positions in the sand with his foot. He would start with one on the left then another on the far right then one just left of that one and another up the beach on the left then the final one far right. How he put down the targets from those positions was up to him.


He took his foot and marked down the firing positions in the sand one by one. He laid them out then looked out and made mental notes about where he wanted to place the targets. He wanted a mix of firing positions and well this time around wanted to practice more of the close distance archery than the usual further away targets he was used to. Pushing himself out of his comfort zone was usually a good thing. The running distance between the first and second station was about 40 feet. Then only about twenty to fifteen between the second and third, then again only about eighteen to twenty two between the third and fourth and again forty feet between the fourth and fifth. There was a decent amount of running involved and he wanted to mix in some firing on the run as well.

He walked the firing positions and this time brought the wood with him. Every now and then he would step from the firing positions and push a piece of wood into the soft sand. It took a fair amount of pressure and effort to push the wood into the soft giving sand. He figured he best fire at some targets while on the move but it would be difficult and something he would not easily be able to do. Knowing this he decided to test himself anyway. He didn’t waste time and with the sun starting to rise up over the horizon he knew he wanted to run this course a few times before heading in to work. So he picked up his bow and started at the lowest firing station at the south most end of the beach. He would be working his way north.

With his bow simply in hand no arrow between his fingers he was ready to go. However he spotted someone else on the beach with him. Unsure of who it was he queried his mind and well couldn’t tell immediately; but he believed it was Kavala’s brother. He gave the man a nod as he waited to see what he would do. Would he join him? Serrif couldn’t be sure but he hadn’t seen the man for his required training yet. He saw the use in it but at the same time just hadn’t made time for it yet. His days were packed and he just didn’t have the time to hunt down Van and query him for a training session. But he supposed that this could be the training session Kavala was requiring of him…

[Vanator]

Vanator heard the clatter of wood in the hallway outside the residents rooms. It was early, Van himself had only just woke up, sitting on the edge of his bed, doing a few morning exercises of his own. He had managed to get a small bead of res to hover in front of him long enough to ignite it. But the sound outisde drew his attention and the res vapor dissipated. Stepping to the door, Van peeked out, just in time to see Serrif turn the corner, a bundle of wood under his arms and his long bow and quiver slung over his shoulder.

Curiosity got the best of the Drykas and he slipped back in to throw on his pants and pad out after the healer, careful to conceal himself around corners. Van felt a bit bad at first, it was as if he were spying on Serrif, but maybe it was a bit of hunter in him that wanted to find out what the man was doing himself, rather than ask. Serrif was still largely a mystery to the Drykas, though, thanks to Kavala, he may have known more about him then even the girls.

Vanator had not bothered Serrif about training in defense and fitness. Serrif ran every morning, and he certainly knew how to employ his bow with competence. But Vanator remained aware of the man, because he knew what Serrif had been, before this life, what he had been to his sister, and it had been a bit disturbing. But the ritual two days ago had helped to shed light on things beyond this world, and disspell the Denusk's misgivings about Kavala and Serrif's grander plans. Van believed too, that he and the healer had things in common, one could not miss seeing the scars of manacles on Serrif's wrists, of an iron collar at his neck.

Serrif had gone out to the beach, and Vanator watched with piqued interest from the cave entrance as the longbowman began to layout his course. It did not take long for the armsmaster to see what the man was doing, and with no small amount of excitement, Vanator jogged back into the tunnels and to his room, where he tossed on a shirt, his boots, and snatched up his own shortbow and quiver. Soon he was back on the beach watching Serrif finish setting up. The healer saw him then, and Vanator took his nod as an invitation. He would have taken a flinch to shoo a fly as an invitation.

"Serrif," Van greeted the man with a nod, ..."I could not help but see what you have worked so hard to set up. I think it is brilliant, and I'm a bit jealous that I did not think of it first." The Drykas gave the healer a smile. "I hope you don't mind if I join you."

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

There was a steadiness to hearing the heartbeat of the ocean. He could feel the wind wrap around him and the suns rays gently touch his skin as it rose above the horizon. He supposed it reminded him of the heartbeat of Mura. Now here came Kavala’s brother, a man he had yet to actually meet one on one. But so far he did admire the man what little he was able to tell about him. He sported the same hard fortitude that Kavala did, was it something that ran in her family? That was possible by many accounts.

He came ready, which meant he somehow knew what he was up to. He was unsure how he had gleaned this information but then again Kavala had a habit of doing this as well…He was starting to see a pattern…These two may be different races entirely but they did seem to have some of the same qualities. With a nod he smiled a little and looked at the course he had created.

“It will do for now.” Referring to the makeshift planks and such that he had pushed into the ground; they stood about five feet tall putting them at about standard height for most targets.

“I would love the company Vanator, and the competition as well.” Competition was always healthy especially when it would hone skills.

He was unaware how much this man knew about him, especially about what laid between Crescent and Tizack. But honestly all that was uncomfortable a little but Serrif had liberated himself from it. He was well aware of his past; maybe not in the entirety of it; but he knew enough to be aware of what it meant. And to him it really meant he had enemies. And in this life they would surely again try and exterminate the Cytali. Which was partially why he was setting up this course.

Serrif stretched his legs a little and loosened his shoulders putting his back again to the course. He didn’t want to overlook the course too long and get a good look at where everything was. That would be cheating the course entirely. If he could judge the targets beforehand there would really be no challenge, he was trying to limit his ability here and see if he could judge all this on the fly and in the moment.

“Just give me a signal when you want me to start. To keep things random.” Having Van decide when to go would be a good extra bit of randomization to the exercise.

[Vanator]

Vanator was glad Serrif did not think him too forward, welcoming his unannounced arrival, bow in hand. Serrif's course, the effort the healer put into it, indicated a sincerity in improving his martial skills. Along with himself and Kavala, Serrif was one of the most combat ready residents of Sanctuary. He had proven it during the Zith attack. But Serrif was a healer, and his intent to master such skills and shooting on the move only added to the mystery that surrounded the man. That, and the scars on his wrists and neck. Vanator knew well enough the marks left by iron bands.

The Drykas barked a laugh when Serrif mentioned competition. "Remember, I have seen you use that long bow, I am afraid I will not offer much in the way of competition. But I will give you the chance to rest while I fumble through!" He laughed again.

Van nodded as Serrif asked him to give him a verbal start. The horseman was anxious to see how well the healer was able to move with the longer weapon. That may become Vanator's only advantage. But then again, Serrif had more than a half foot of height over the Drykas, he was well suited to the long bow.

"Alright, ready?" He paused a moment, the roar of the surf and the sea breeze filling the void. "Go!"

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He kept himself at the unready state physically; the Konti longbow kept lax at his side in his left hand. Yes it was a bit longer than Van’s shortbow, something Serrif hadn’t considered until he saw it. A shortbow would definitely provide a good advantage here…however that was not what he was trained with. He was used to all the oddities of his bow, he saw no reason to forgo it for a shorter bow now…even if the bow was six feet when unstrung.

With Van asking him if he was ready he responded with an easy nod. Keeping his body unready but his mind was very much aware of what lay ahead of him. Van gave him the word and just like that his body went into motion; his muscle memory caught up with him. The first target was straight behind him. He turned to his right so he could acquire the target faster. His bow rolled toward his right side across his waist so he could easily meet the string with an arrow quickly.

The bowstring was felt under his right pointer and middle finger, and just like that he leveled the bow vertical; snapping it up inline with his body but keeping a slight angle to it tilting the bow toward the right. The string was brought back to his marking point which was his cheek, the arrow loosed. With this close of a distance he really didn’t have to worry too much about the wind, it was gentle enough not to cause too much chaos with arrow flights.

It impacted and as expected the target fell over backwards from the impact of the arrow at such short a range. Next target was off right and a good distance away, further than his last target. He knocked another arrow quickly and let it fly as well. It missed but just barely off right. He had forgotten to angle the targets toward him so the target was a little more difficult to hit than the first one whose flat face was facing directly at him. Maybe that was something he could change later…maybe it added a nice challenge.

Whichever the case he missed and moved on toward the next target. He planned to try and hit this one while on the run, or at least while not at a station. Still he was unsure how he was going to manage this one. He started moving and about a third of the way toward the next station he drew up an arrow and knocked it. He didn’t draw his bow up yet; and his pace slowed some as he neared where he wanted to shoot from. He breathed out emptying his lungs as he quickly snapped his bow up and was able to draw his bow back some and shoot sidelong at the target. The arrow barely hit the target low left.

So he kept moving now to the shooting station at the right. He stopped once there and quickly drew yet another arrow. His pulse was beginning to get higher indicating that the running was indeed distracting him slightly. He had shot arrows like this before with Ildin. But for some reason his pulse seemed a little more distracting to him than usual. His first target was toward the right hand side, the string was pulled back and then the arrow loosed to meet it. The target hit the ground. With a nod Serrif decided it was time to try his gambit at movement archery again.

He started moving again keeping his right hand at the nock of another arrow this way he could pull it up quickly. His bow was at his side only to be pulled up once he was where he wanted to be to fire his next salvo at the approaching target. It would be a balancing act because the target itself was facing down the beach toward Van, but the closer he got to the station the closer the target was…but the more difficult it would be to mark it. So a compromise was struck and he pulled up an arrow and let it loose.

It missed, having been underpowered a good amount from Serrif not pulling back where he needed to. He needed a bit more practice with imperfect archery. At this point he was used to the kind of perfect training archery and not this on the run kind. Which was half the reason he set up this course in the first place. The arrow hit the ground in front of the target. He continued on his way to the next station. Once there he readied himself for the next target in mind.

This time his heartbeat was much more distracting than before. Still thumping in his head loudly. It was slightly distracting to him now but he was trying to ignore it and focus on archery and the targets. He knew it would likely only get worse for him as well…which was not comforting at all. The string was pulled back to his nocking point and the arrow let loose to meet the target.

It sailed true and marked right in the center of the target; knocking it down with a good amount of force to the ground. That made him happy, at least he had hit a few of the targets now. It only showed him where he needed improvement really. But there was only one target at this station, so he had to make a good run to the next station. Good news was there were no targets on the way to this firing position. Which was good; he could do without missing these targets now.

The run was somewhat short as well as brisk, he was trying to keep his movements quick especially between stations. And with there being no targets along the way to worry about the distance was cleared quickly and with ease. A few steps away from where he had marked he put his hand on another arrow nock. He stood with his left foot toward the north up the beach so that when he headed running again for the final station he would be able to do so quickly and without turning around. He drew up an arrow and knocked it.

The thumping now loud and actually causing his breathing to be somewhat laborious. He noticed as well that it was causing issues with his bow being able to be kept steady…which was a concern now. He breathed evenly knowing well that he would have to make the shoot soon. The string gave a twang as it cut through the air propelling the arrow onward to meet the board target. It hit high but toppled the target over with the force it closed with.

The next target was right beside it and he quickly pulled another arrow up and strung it on. He pulled back to his knocking point at his cheek and released again. Part of him just wanted to get this run and archery test over with; and the other part wanted to do it again and again until he had it right. Even if he knew it was out of his current skillset some he still wanted to give it a good try. The arrow streaked and was off right just by a bit; the arrow went off and embedded itself into the sand down the beach.

He put his right hand on another arrow nock and took off. He knew exactly where he wanted to shoot from for the next target. He wanted to loose an arrow when he was facing the target directly to increase his chances of making a good connection with the board. As the target came into view he drew his bow and nocked for his final shot. It would be erratic at best but he learned a few things from the last movement targets.

Slowing his pace meant he could put an accurate hit on it, and his body would be more accurate. He breathed out emptying his lungs as he drew back. He knew that his draw wasn’t what he was used to, so the arrow would have a different flight path, and a steeper fall. He would have to aim a little higher than normal. So he did and released quickly trying to keep himself in stride without tripping.

He didn’t need visual conformation on the target, he didn’t hear the arrow meet the target nor the plank hit the ground. When he finally made it to the stopping point he placed his hands on the arms of the bow and the handle behind his head breathing deep. This was harder than he thought it would be; most of the time while he was in stride he noticed he was struggling with his longbow. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to obtain a shortbow and learn to use it effectively.

He turned and looked to Van. “Well…far from perfect. But a decent start.” He walked back to the starting area slowly taking deep breaths as the sweat began to form on his brow.

“I noticed a few error I made while making this course. The targets are all facing south…making them harder to hit.” He stretched his legs some and continued to monitor his pulse some more.

He needed to set the targets back up with Van so he could run the course. “Your call if we decide to rotate them or not.”

[Vanator]

Vanator laughed lightly. "More than decent I would say." He nodded in admiration as Serrif returned to the starting position. The tall man indeed had no trouble wielding the longer bow, his comfort with it apparent as he moved with the weapon. The Drykas helped to set up the targets that had been knocked over or nudged out of place. "Let keep the targets in the same direction for this one, since you had to deal with them as well."

Once the course was set, Vanator moved to the first firing position, facing away as Serrif had. He adjusted his quiver to a comfortable and accessible position, his short bow in his hand at his side. Van bent his knees slightly, bouncing on them, right foot slightly behind the left, and waited for Serrif's signal.

When given to go ahead, Vanator decided it felt more natural to turn to the left, his left foot sliding back as he reached for an arrow and began to raise the bow horizontally. Laying the arrow to the string, the Drykas brought the bow vertical as he drew back with two fingers until they brushed against his jaw. He remained in a partial crouch. Van took a moment to gain the target, finding he was thinking too much about form. This exercise would require quicker action. So, with a dirty aim, Van loosed the arrow at the closest target. It made impact, low and to the right, twisting the target around.

Rotating to the right, Van nocked another arrow and raised it towards the distant target to the right. He knew now what Serrif faced with the angled target. A quick aim rewarded the Drykas with a shot that flew wide of target. Without dwelling on the failure, Vanator moved on, drawing another arrow as he began to move along the course. He too would attempt to hit the next target to the left while in motion. This time, however, the Drykas rotated the bow to a horizontal lay as he put the arrow to the string. Still moving in a hunter's crouch, the shortbowman raised the weapon and drew back the string. Vanator was not as used to moving through the grass, or sand, with a bow. From the back of a Strider with an ax was his forte. So it was with some awkwardness that Vanator tried to track the target as he moved. Finally letting the string slip free, the arrow sailed past the target to disappear somewhere in the sand beyond, the dynamics of shooting horizontally proved too unfamiliar.

Without breaking stride, Van ran to the next firing position, finding his posture much easier, the arrow moving to the string with more fluidity as he raised the bow vertically again. Shoulder low, grip angled, relax. All the things he had focused on in recent training ran through his head in an instant. Aim, windage, fire. The missile sped towards the target ahead, slamming into the target and knocking it over. He moved again, attempting to hit the target in the left again in motion. Van kept the bow vertical, nocking the arrow and keeping his knees bent to absorb the shock of movement for a more steady firing platform. Trying to lead with his aim, the Drykas released the string and watched the arrow narrowly slipped past the target.

Vanator had found a comfortable rhythm in his breathing and movement, but his lack of skill plagued him. Stopping at the next station, Van once again quickly took up position, not wanting to defeat the purpose of the course with lingering preparation. He nocked and drew, feeling the breeze on his skin, now sporting a sheen of sweat. He made a rough aim and released, the arrow hitting the small target at the upper edge.

Van reached the last firing position with the muscles of his shoulders and back finally loosened. There were twin targets here, and Van attempted to hit them rapid fire one after the other. The first he hit halfway between the edge and center, but he fumbled the arrow a bit getting the second one set, and he ended up missing it altogether. Moving along towards the finish, he slowed his pace, intent to at least hit one target on the move. The Drykas nocked the arrow, raised the weapon and held his breath as he padded by. With a subtle flinch of his fingers, Van let the arrow go, watching it streak towards the target and hitting it hard enough to knock it over. He then jogged back to Serrif.

"Great course, so much more practical and realistic than a static range target. Shows me where I need work too." Slinging his bow over his shoulder, Vanator moved to set right the targets he had kocked off kilter. "Where did you learn to shoot?" He knew little of the man's history, other than that he had lived on the Konti's island.

[Dex]

Every so often on a nice warm day, Howlwing and Dex would race, just for the sake of moving around and exercising. Today, with the reasonably warm temperature, they decided to take off for the beach. Dex would of course take off over ground, racing up and around things as required. In the street, he simply had to avoid feet, which was easy enough if you moved fast enough. Howlwing of course would fly over head, flexing out her wings. Once they were outside of the city though, she'd run along with Dex, gliding over some of the larger obstacles that Dex simply scattered over or crawled around or sometimes even dived under. It was an interesting journey every time. Today they went from Syrah's house out the window, onto the lawn. Dex squeeked at her some, scratching and kneading at the dirt. This was their signal for the beach, since it reminded Howlwing of a giant litter box, and she liked to paw through it. Over the time together they'd learned some of this signals for simple things. Other signals they just had to do their best at, which generally meant being led by the other. Dex didn't mind, since he generally just liked to race about, to see more of anywhere. And Howlwing seemed attached to him, so they weren't likely to be separated for terribly long. And even if they were, they both could find each other by scent. And they both returned back to Syrah's house often enough that they could find each other there if nothing else. Once Dex had navigated the streets to the edge of the city, he scattered off to a open clearing, but that was far enough away from people and circled around a few times before looking up for Howlwing. She saw it soon enough and pulled her wings in for a dive at a decent angle. About 15 ft from landing, she rotated her body to put her back against the sky before flaring out her wings, power flapping to slow her down. She dropped the last few feet onto her paws, absorbing the landing into her leg muscles. Dex chattered lightly at her, and then stretched alongside her before they both took off for the run. After awhile, they both fell into their running strides, taking off over the warm sand and spraying it out behind them. After clearing around the tree line, they turned and went down the beach with the sea on their left. After a few minutes of this though, they caught the first whiffs of recent human scent filtering down from the tree line after the wind current pushed it away from the shore. They slowed to a padding jog, following the scent for a few minutes, sometimes losing it to the smell of the salty seawater. Dex recognized some of one person's scent, but not the other. They eventually though found the source, farther down the beach. There was some multicolored wood logs laying around in different spots, with two humans at the far end standing together. Dex and Howlwing pawed up to the course, Howling splitting off to the wood logs, Dex taking off to reacquaint himself with Serrif and check out this new person.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“To keep things consistent that would be fair.” He admired that the man wouldn’t take the easy way out of the situation even when Serrif offered it to him. There was much you could tell about someone’s character when you offered them an easy way out. Sure it was an out, but it wouldn’t keep consistency or the same level of challenge Serrif had to face. And Vanator wasn’t going to opt out of a challenge…seemed the two of them had a decent amount in common there.

Vanator took a more ready position than Serrif had at the line. The slight bend in the knees seemed to have him a little more poised for action than Serrif had been; that was worth noting. He was ready just like he had been when Van gave him the signal.

“GO!” He didn’t give Van a ready mark because he knew well that the man was.

And just like that Van set off to the targets. It was interesting to see the differences between the two men’s shooting styles. Van shot from a sort of half crouch; something Serrif wasn’t completely comfortable with mostly due to the length of his bow. If he tried a deep half crouch like Van he would likely be severely limited in his maneuverability. It was something he would have to try sometime. But that was what this course was for after all. Testing what you knew and how you did things. Every movement learned little by little.

Van did well, especially since Serrif had no idea how much practice he had in the past. Although he doubted that the man had just picked up the shortbow for the first time. No; he was more comfortable with the bow than that. Serrif though had been trained almost exclusively on the longbow, he believed many of those skills would likely carry over to a shortbow if the need ever came. But he couldn’t see a situation where he would be without his longbow and in the possession of a shortbow instead.

“Well done. Those moving targets are a challenge. But that is what training is for.” He didn’t fair much better with the moving targets than Van did; even with all his training. Sometimes it was just pure instinctive shooting that got you where you needed to be. Something Serrif in a way was still developing.

“Ildin taught me how to shoot…and more but mostly just longbow and general training nothing about daggers or any other combat.” That was dumbing it down a little but whatever the truth was he remembered that Ildin had taught him much.

“What about you?” He asked as he stretched his arms and shoulders out some. He could feel them begin to tighten a little under his skin. They always did that after a good run through with his longbow. It was sometimes a chore to pull that string back to his measured position. It did have a decent amount of force behind it.

Something was in the range now…some animal that caught his eye as it scurried about. But there was something else present as well…a raptor. He didn’t know what kind of raptor it was but it was present. But there was some kind of furry small animal scurrying around toward them. At first he didn’t recognize the animal…then as it drew closer he knew it was Dex…well it had been some time since he had seen this Kelvic…And the raptor he brought with him was it a Kelvic too? It was possible, Kelvics did tend to stick together for one reason or another.

“Well…looks like we have company.” He said pointing to the ferret as it made it’s way down the course.

“Dex!” Serrif called out over the course as he shook his head slightly side to side.

“Just when you don’t expect them Kelvics have a way of showing up.”He laughed a little because that had really been the story of every time he met a Kelvic.

They seemed to some out of nowhere and pop up to surprise him. What he found most interesting was how they thought that they were nothing special. That this was normal. Although that would again depend on your definition of normal. To Kelvics it was normal to be able to shift between forms on a whim. Although Serrif believed it wasn’t normal at all. There weren’t many Kelvics out there; although he had learned to spot them in a way.

In human form a Kelvic had tells, features that set them apart from normal everyday people. They would have maybe brilliantly colored eyes, or hair that was colored a little abnormal. They always had a feature about them that carried over in a way to the animal form they had. But the easiest way to tell a Kelvic in human form was behavior. They acted a little more primal than most other people. They were more direct in what they said; and were far more acute to things like body language. A Kelvic in human form also possessed the mentality of the animal form they had.

In animal form however one would have to be a little more skeptical. The Kelvic in this form seemed to possess a little more intelligence than animals of its kind. Maybe it would act abnormally; maybe act on knowledge it already knew. It seemed that in this form the Kelvic’s intelligence didn’t vary at all. It would be able to do higher level thinking than most of it’s kind and act on them to the best of it’s ability. That was how he was able to tell Kelvics apart in animal forms. They were more intelligent than others.

“It is comical how Kelvics just pop on in at the strangest of times.” He stated again as he looked out…was the raptor a Kelvic too? That question came to mind but he was sure if it was Dex would likely tell him so. The man rarely held anything back.

[Vanator]

Ildin. Vanator thought he had overheard the tall healer mention the name on occasion. He knew Serrif spent some time on the island of the Konti, and wondered if this trainer were one of them. How curious it must have been for a man to live surrounded by women like his sister. The whole of Mura seemed more fairy tale than reality, and if Kavala herself had not visited there, the Drykas would have ascribed the distant place to myth. Regardless who Ildin was, they had done well training the healer to use a weapon, a skill that had already proven valuable. Van had also learned from the man that herbalists can concoct substances that can harm as well as heal. Serrif knew hot to use them to enhance the lethality of his arrows. The Denusk hoped the other healers would take to arms as well. They would need them if they were to stay at Sanctuary.

"When I was young, my father had a man from the Diamond clan train me in the basics of shooting. My role in the family was not to be a hunter, so I was only taught enough to use the weapon in defense. My training was focused on matters related to replacing my father one day as Ankal. The battle ax was an exception. I was built to swing one, my father said, so I took pains to ensure I could use it well."

It was then that Van too caught sight of the scurrying creatures drawing near, a ferret it appeared, and a winged feline creature he had only glimpsed a few times in his life. A Yowlwing. It was a strange pair. What was equally surprising was that Serrif seemed to find nothing odd about it, even referring to the ferret by name.

“Just when you don’t expect them Kelvics have a way of showing up... ”

Vanator glanced at the healer, and then back to the skittering creature. Serrif had already answered the questions that sat poised on the Drykas tongue. Kelvic. And the man was right. Just about every encounter Van had experienced with Kelvics was unexpected. From the first time he met one, finding the Kelvic goat Pygmy wandering in the Sea of Grass, to twice being ambushed by Mao, to the unexpected arrival of his estranged twins at Sanctuary, who also happened to be Kelvics.

Vanator laughed at Serrif's observation. "I know exactly what you mean." He added with a smile, looking from the small mammal to the longbowman. "I assume you two know each other."

[Dex]

As Dex neared, he lept up into the air a few yards in front of Serrif, flashing into his clothed human form as he stumbled his feet in front of him to a scattering stop, tossing some of the sand. "Serrif! Hiya!" Dex said, flashing a grin at him. That's when he turned to the blonde man. "Who this? He pretty thick." Dex said rapidly, skipping out a few words in his typical odd speech pattern. As far as the other person, he was thick though. His arms were as thick as hams. Dex stared wistfully in the distance at this one ham he'd eaten at someone's house in their pantry. He licked his lips slightly before returning to the present. "Serrif, I found a new friend! Or, well, she found me. And she gave me a present!" Dex said pointing rapidly at Howlwing and at his new collar. As he turned around to point at Howlwing though, he giggled a little as she pawed into one of the targets, kneading and clawing it up lightly. "Did you need that Serrif? And what's with the little sticks in them?"