Art? Yeah, art.

The voice came from behind him, and with a heavy sigh, Ren turned, putting on a pleasant smile. Behind him was a gruff looking man. Unwashed, wearing light armor, and with a dagger drawn, held at his side.

“Good day to you, too.” Pleasant and amicable. He can talk his way out of this. “And, how can I help you?”

“Well, you could start by emptying your pockets.” The knife flips in his hand as the man takes a step towards him. Intimidation and robbery. Of course. “And giving all you’ve got to us.”

WIth a glance over his shoulder, he confirms the ambush as two more gruff looking, armed men stand blocking the path behind him. “I could do that, but it wouldn’t do you any good. I’m but a humble librarian, I don’t carry much on me that would be of use to you.”

“You’ll wanna take the easy way, sir.” He continues to close the distance between them. “You don’t wanna see what the hard way is.”

He must’ve pissed off one of the gods, with the luck he’s had today, that’s just great. Usually, the large bastard sword strapped to his back is enough of a threat to discourage things like this, but greed breeds stubbornness and an inability to rationalize. So they’re too stupid for simple diplomacy or threats, that’s alright. He has options.

Options. Not magic, now is not the time. They’re not bright, he can use that to his advantage. With a heavy sigh, he begins making a show of patting down his pockets, ignoring the bulge of his coin purse. Continuing the ruse, he mutters angrily under his breath, glancing over his shoulder.

”I must have dropped my coin purse.” He glances around the path, choosing a spot to his right. “Ah, there it is, it must have fallen when you startled me.”

As both men look to follow his gaze, he quietly mutters the incantation in an exhaled sigh, and with a motion of his hands, Ren disappears. He’s gone in moments, leaving only a rustle of underbrush to the side of the path, and the frustrated shouts of the bandits. This day really couldn’t get any worse. Now he’s shoving through the underbrush as branches grab at the fabric of his coat as he hears the crashing of the brush behind him. Great, they’re following. Curses for always relying on magic and never learning to cover my tracks. Ren pushes faster through the trees, starting to weave in different directions to hopefully throw them off of his path. He’ll find his way back, he’s got a good memory and a solid head on his shoulders. It’ll be fine.

The shouts and crashing start to grow distant as pain flares in his side from the exertion. He can’t start slowing down yet, the more distance the better. The last thing he needs today is to get robbed, again. He stumbles out of the tangle of brush into a clearing, and finally starts to slow, catching his breath as he walks further into the open space.

Something to his side snaps as he takes another step, and a sudden pain in various places as his body crumples upwards, limbs tangling into a contorted mess. Swinging from a tree, tangled in a net really isn’t helping with the whole catching his breath situation. He was wrong, this day could get worse.

Ren lets himself hang for a moment as the swinging slows and the spinning of the forest around him lessens. It’s difficult to get his bearings as he tries to orient himself. He’s fairly high up, at least seven feet off the ground. The assessment begins, one hand is pinned painfully between his back and the coarse ropes, the other is tangled in the webbing of the net somewhat above him, one leg is sticking mostly out of the net, and the other is bent somewhere underneath him. Nothing feels broken, but magic is out of the question. The trap must have been made for some large creature since he can’t hear any strain from the limb he hangs from, only the sound of the creaking ropes as his prison sways gently in the wind. He must have shouted when the trap was triggered as the birds hidden in the leaves start to call out to each other again.

“Right, this is fine.” He mutters quietly. “You can get out of this, Ren. You’ve been in worse spots.”

There’s motion in the tree above him, accompanied by an out of place rustle of leaves. If he wasn’t as high on adrenaline, he might not have noticed it. He lost sight of the form, but catches it again as a flash of motion moves smoothly from one branch to another, more directly above him. You just had to say something, didn’t you? The form is large, but he can’t quite make out a shape through the leaves and the glare of sunlight. Something hunched above him, still and silent. Something large enough that it shouldn’t be that quiet, with how fast he saw it moved. Something, hopefully, intelligent.

”Hello there, friend!” Ren calls up towards the shape, in a bright, cheerful tone. “I seem to have gotten myself into a bit of a situation here.”

The shape moves, creeping farther out onto the branch in slow, languid movements, and he can make out bright blue eyes. He hears something, a series of chirps and trills, and can just make out the flick of a tail as the shape stops on the branch, near where the rope loops around it. There’s a moment of silence before it makes the noises again. It’s deliberate, intentioned. It’s definitely language of some sort.

“My apologies, friend.” Ren scrambles through his memories to match the language to something he knows. He switches to Elven. “I don’t quite understand you. If you could give me a hand, I’d be happy to work this out.”

A clawed hand reaches out of the leaves, and before he can ask to maybe rethink that course of action, it slices cleanly through the rope. He hits the ground hard, and is unconscious before he can process the impact.

—-

It’s dark, that’s the first thing that Ren notices when he comes to, blinking up at the night sky through the cover of trees. He can hear the crackle of flames somewhere nearby. His head hurts, his arm hurts, most of him hurts.

Very suddenly, he’s not staring at the sky, instead he’s looking up at bright blue eyes, thick black fur, sharp teeth, and a feline face. He jumps, involuntarily, thudding his head back against ground, cushioned by something soft, and the Catfolk bolts away from him with a startled cry, and the sound of breaking branches and crushed foliage as they stumble.

Ren sits up slowly, pressing a hand against his temple to dull the throbbing pulse of pain, and taking stock of his surroundings. He’s in a very rudimentary camp, the catfolk is on the opposite side of the small bonfire, frantically patting at the bottom of their pattered cloak that must have caught fire when they fell. His head had been resting on his own cloak that had been bunched up into a small pillow.

”Apologies, my friend.” The catfolk startles at the sound of his voice, and spins into a crouch to face him. “You startled me.”

The catfolk blinks, and one of their ears twitches. After a moment, their posture loosens as they seem to settle slightly, glancing away from him to the surrounding forest.

”I was afraid that I had killed you.” His voice sounds young, squeaking only a little, and the words seem hesitant, from a tongue unpracticed in the language.

”Oh, good, you are educated in common.” Ren feels his tension ease. Maybe that was supposed to be an inside thought, but at least they can communicate, this will be fine. He settles himself more comfortably on the ground, opting to remain seated, and non-threatening.

The catfolk says something in Amurrun - right, that’s what he had been hearing - and Ren knows enough about social interactions to understand that it’s probably an insult of some sort.

“No offense intended, my friend. I’m simply glad that we can communicate. I’d like to thank you properly for your help. My name is Ren.”

“You broke my trap, Ren.” He snaps as he stands from his crouch as he says it, and Ren finally gets a good look at the kid. He’s small and wiry, mostly black with some spots of white fur and large blue eyes. His clothes are simple cloth, and covered by a large, dark dappled cloak with a quiver of arrows poking out of one side. The tip of his tail is angled strangely, and white fur at the tip is stained a dark red. “I am called Panga, Son of Nyra.”

The accusation startles him out of the concern he had for the, clearly young, catfolk. “I think you mean your trap was effective. I simply wasn’t the prey you were hoping to catch.”

His ears shift, pointing back flat in irritation. “You were in my forest. You should not have been in my trap at all.”

”I was just a bit turned around, trying to get away from a nasty pair of highwaymen.”

Panga’s posture settles again, ears perked forward. “High-way-men?” He feels the sound of the word out in his mouth, one piece at a time.

”Yes, highwaymen. Bad men. Robbers. Thieves.” Clear definitions are difficult to reach through the throbbing pain in his skull at the moment.

“Thief!” His tail flicks as he puts the pieces together, and Ren watches him try to hide the visible wince of pain. “I found the thiefs.”

”Thieves.” The correction was instinctual. “What do you mean you found them?”

”The thieves also were lost in my forest. The thieves got too close. I don’t like thieves in my forest.” Three matter of fact sentences as an answer to his question.

”I see.” That could mean literally anything. “I take it you don't think they'll be a problem anymore?”

“I did not kill the thieves.” He almost sounds indignant. “The thieves are injured and tied to a tree. They will escape later, I only took one of their knives.”

“Ah, I see.” Relief washes over him, not because he was particularly fond of them, but Ren would hate to inadvertently be accused of someone's death, again. Usually, he tries to stay out of things like that, Ren isn't an adventurer, it's a task better left for someone else.

Quiet falls over the small campsite, only broken by the crackling of the small fire and the sound of night insects surrounding them. Panga busies himself tending to the fire, and the pieces of meat Ren can now see sitting close to the flames, one of his ears is pointing towards Ren at all times. Ren decides to busy himself taking stock of his things. Nothing seems to have been touched, his bag is sitting on the ground close to him, and there's a soft relief when he reaches his hand inside and pulls the recently acquired book to his palm. All is not lost.

With a trilling utterance in Amarrun, Panga pulls the skewered meat from the fire, and steps towards Ren, holding one stick out to him. After a moment of hesitation, Ren takes the skewer, and once it's in his hand, Panga skitters back away from him, settling near the flames. The catfolk watches him out of the corner of his eye as they both start to eat. It's basic trail food, a simply butchered rabbit with a very clear wound from an arrow in its side, but it'll do. Surprisingly, Panga is the one to break the somewhat companionable silence.

“Why are you in my forest, Mister Ren?” It's a straightforward question, but not hostile.

“I was under the assumption that this was the Druid Colptha's forest.”

“It is Miss Colptha's forest, but I live here also. It is mine too.”

Ren perked up at that. “You know Druid Colptha?”

Panga scoffs. “Do I know Miss Colptha- of course I know Miss Colptha. I live here. Miss Colptha is my friend.” He mutters something in Amarrun again.

“Well I am in your and Druid Colptha’s forest because I am looking for her. If you could take me to her, I would be more than happy to be on my way.”

There’s suspicion in Panga’s voice when he responds. “Why are you looking for Miss Colptha?”

“I have a delivery for her. A book she has been searching for.”

Panga’s ears perk towards him again. “A book? What kind of book?”

“An old one.” Ren reaches back into his bag, pulling the book out and letting him see it. Panga creeps a bit closer, his head tilting in curiosity. “It's the old history of the area, lore and legends that were thought long forgotten.”

“You are a book seller, Mister Ren?”

“Just Ren, but no.” He pulls the book back as Panga reaches out a hand towards the tome, and he tucks it back into his bag. “I find rare and important books, collect them, and bring them to the people who need them. Someone else does the actual selling.”

“You have lots of books?”

“Usually, yes. I take it you have an interest in books?”

Panga hesitates before sitting back on his heels and nodding enthusiastically. “I like to learn. I want to learn everything.”

“That’s good, learning is important.” The kid is eager, if Ren can get him to just take him to the Druid, that would solve a lot of problems.

It’s quiet, and Ren lets the quiet settle as Panga thinks. He can see it on his face, the furrowed brows of concentration, eyes darting across the ground.

“If-” Panga hesitates again, glancing up at Ren. “If I take you to Miss Colptha, you can give me a book?”

“Hmm.” Ren makes a show of considering the offer, like he hadn’t thought of that option. “What kind of book are you interested in?”

The kid’s eyes almost sparkle with excitement, and then he pauses, and it’s Panga’s turn to consider. It’s a long moment before he answers. “You have books on gods?”

Ren nods. “I have many, but depending on which gods, they might be back at the book shop.”

He chirps in what Ren assumes is agreement. “I take you to Miss Colptha. You give me book. Good deal.” His Common seems to be getting worse with his excitement.

To Ren’s surprise, Panga stands, and starts to douse the fire with dirt. “Woah, slow down friend, it’s still dark.”

Panga pauses for only a moment, glancing up at the sky. “It is almost light time. We see fine. We go to Miss Colptha now.”

“Panga, I can’t see in the dark.” Ren stands, despite his protests, since it seems like the kid is dead set on heading out now, but he does pause in dousing the dying flames.

“You can’t see in the dark?” He looks to Ren with evident confusion.

“No, but if we must leave now, I have a light.” He sees Panga roll his eyes in annoyance and begins muttering in Amarrun again, but it stops when he pulls out his Aeon stone and releases it to gravitate above his head.

Very suddenly, Panga is in his personal space, reaching up to grab the stone out of the air before Ren can stop him. The fascination is evident as he inspects the stone before releasing it, watching it float back around Ren, and grabbing it again. Ren lets him do this twice more before he stops the reaching paws again. Panga jumps away from the touch.

“That is a strange rock. Very strange rock.” His eyes are still tracking the stone in its revolutions around Ren. “Are you a wizard, Mister Ren?”

“No.” Ren sets to wrapping himself in his cloak and securing his bag over his shoulders. “I am just a historian, very different.”

“But you have magic, I saw you invisible. Magic means you are a wizard.”

Ren sighs as Panga goes back to putting out the fire. “There are many different kinds of magic. Druid Colptha has magic, but she is a druid, not a wizard.”

“I see.” Panga picks his own pack off of the ground once he is satisfied that the fire is thoroughly extinguished. “You follow me, Ren the Historian.” He says the word carefully, feeling out the sound of it as he hangs his bow over one shoulder. The longbow is almost as tall as he is.

They travel in silence for a few minutes, Ren doing his best to keep pace with the kid through the thick foliage and underbrush. It doesn’t seem like Panga is following any sort of trail, at least not one that Ren can discern. Trust, he just has to trust that he knows where he’s going.

“How far is it to Druid Colptha?” Ren keeps his voice light, as though it’s mere curiosity, and not the desperate desire to be done with this job.

“One hour.” Panga pauses and looks back to Ren, just in time to watch him stumble over a root hidden in the underbrush. “Maybe two.” He amends, then turns back to continue, now at a noticeably more leisurely pace.

“Where is your bookshop, Mister Ren?” Panga doesn’t turn to ask him the question, but he can see an ear turned back towards him.

“It’s in Kondul. Little place near the docks.” Panga makes a chirping purr in acknowledgement.

“Kondul. Big city close to the big water- ocean?”

“Yes, have you-” He’s interrupted before he can finish his question.

“You live there?”

“For the most part, yes. Do you-” He is interrupted again.

“You have friends in Kondul?”

“I have friends all over, but-” Ren stops walking as he once again isn’t able to finish his sentence.

“What is Kondul like?” Panga doesn’t seem to have noticed that Ren isn’t following him yet.

“Okay, Panga.” That’s enough to get his attention, and Panga turns to him. “How about we take turns asking questions?” He’s doing his best to be patient.

Panga considers it for a moment, but nods. “Okay, Mister Ren. Your turn for question.” He turns and continues walking, and Ren jogs for a moment to catch back up.

“Do you live alone in Weirwelcenbir? I was under the impression that catfolk live communally.” Ren notices the small hesitation in Panga’s steps at the question.

“Right now, yes. My village is not far.” The words are more stilted than they had been. “What is Kondul like?” He repeats his previous question.

“Busy. It’s a trade city, lots of people in and out all the time.” Ren considers his next question for a moment, and to his surprise, Panga doesn’t interrupt with another question of his own. “Why aren’t you living in your village?”

“I am on my-” He hesitates, says something in Amurrun, and seems to find the word he’s looking for. “I am on my pilgrimage. Do you travel lots?”

“Yes, I am always travelling. I’ve been all over the continent, friends in all places, books to find and bring back, things of that sort.” He elaborates to buy time to think of a tactful way to find out why a child is on his own in the woods. “What sort of pilgrimage are you on?”

Panga hesitates, and looks over his shoulder to frown at Ren. “I do not understand.”

“Well, there are many types of pilgrimages. There are religious pilgrimages, some would consider what I do taking a pilgrimage. What is your goal?”

“Two question is cheating.” Panga pauses before turning and glancing back to make sure Ren is still following. “We all go on a pilgrimage. When you are an adult, you go on a pilgrimage. If you like the land and cities, you don’t come back. If you like the village, and do not like cities, you come back home. One year pilgrim.”

“They send children out alone into the world?!” He’s a little alarmed at that.

“Three question. More cheating, Mister Ren.” His tail flicks again, and Ren can hear the wince he lets out this time. “I am not child. Do you have elf friends?”

“Yes, a few. How old are you, Panga?” He’s doing better at keeping the blatant concern out of his voice.

“Ten and five. If you are not wizard, do you make magic from a god?”

“Yes, my god gives me magic.” Fifteen years old, by the gods. In the woods, alone, injured, but competent, it seems. “How long have you been on your pilgrimage?”

“Two month. Who is your god that gives you magic?”

“You wouldn’t know him.” Ren doesn’t want to get into all that at the moment. “You’ve spent two months in the woods, why not go to a city, see what it’s like?”

“I did go to city. Man told me to find ‘in’ to stay, but when I go in places they don’t say how I stay. I do not understand. I understand forest, and trees, and animals. I do not understand city.”

“Must be scary, being out all on your own.”

“I am not scared!” Panga snaps at him, but it isn’t convincing.

They are quiet for a while, as Ren lets the kid’s anger simmer down. They make a few more changes in trajectory through the trees, Ren following dutifully in Panga’s footsteps. After what felt like a long time, he feels it safe enough to continue the conversation.

“What happened to your tail?” He asks it gently, not wanting him to get too defensive again.

“It is not your turn.” Okay, so, still a bit angry. “If your god I do not know gives you magic, and you run but not fight, why do you have sword?”

“Well, I can’t rely on my god to solve all my problems. Plus, if people see me with a big sword, they tend to underestimate my intelligence.” He gives Panga a moment to consider that before asking again. “What happened to your tail?”

“Wolf was faster than me. No problem. Is fine.”

“It looks like it hurts.”

“It is fine. Does not hurt.”

“I could teach you how to lie better, you know.”

“Not lying, Mister Ren.” He practically growls the words. “Is fine.”

“It’s your turn for a question, Panga.”

“Why are you nosy, Mister Ren?” The irritation is evident in his tone.

“It’s my job to be nosy, and I like to know things.” He sighs, brushing his hand along the bark of a tree as he passes by. “I am an information gatherer by trade. Are we almost there?”

“Yes. We are here now.” Panga breaks into a long strided jog away from him and into a clearing Ren hadn’t realized they were coming up on, calling out for Miss Colptha.

The sky is indeed lightening, and Ren doesn’t need the Aeon stone to see Panga as he stops near the middle of the clearing, turning in circles as he calls out for his friend. He looks far too young like that, just a child lost in the woods. After a moment, a small, elegant fox bounds into the clearing, and Panga spins to greet it as its shape changes into that of a tall, slender woman. She’s grinning, draped in silks of deep green, and Panga breaks into a bounding run towards her, practically throwing himself into her open arms as Ren enters the clearing after them, leaving a healthy amount of space between himself and the pair embracing.

“Miss Colptha, I brought a cowardly man who interrupts me, and broke my trap seeking you.” He lets go of her, and has to crane his neck up to meet her gaze as he gestures towards Ren. “His name is Mister Ren, and he has a old book for you, and he is a cheater at games.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” She runs a hand gently over the top of his head, smoothing down the scruffy fur, and Ren takes the opportunity to quickly make himself presentable. “Thank you, Panga, for bringing him to me safe and sound.” She looks up to Ren, nodding to him. “I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble for you, Ren. I assume you are the envoy from the Onyx Enterprise that I’ve been expecting?”

“Correct, and well met, ma’am.” Ren nods his head to her in return, taking his acknowledgement as a cue to enter the interaction, and he closes the distance between them, pulling the book from his bag. “He only had me a little worried, but more for his sake than my own. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Druid Colptha.” He holds the book out towards her.

She takes the book gently, holding it reverently in her hands. “Ah, thank you. I cannot tell you what a gift it is to finally have this.” She holds the book to her chest, like the treasure that Ren knows it is. “Please, you must be weary from your travels, take a moment for some breakfast?”

“It would be my honour, ma’am.” Ren bows deeply, and the druid sets to pulling small fruits and beverages out of a bag. There’s a tug at his sleeve, and he jumps when he notices Panga had crept up beside him.

“Our deal, Mister Ren.” He says it politely, if not a little bit impatiently.

“Right, of course.” Ren quickly sets to rummaging through his bag and memory for a book the kid might like. He’s always picking up random books in his travels, so there must be something. The kid mentioned gods, and his memory jumps to a new book he picked up on his way here, a small novelization of an old parable of some sort, it looked interesting in the moment, at least. He pulls that one out of the bag, nice and age appropriate. “A book for you, Panga. As we agreed.”

The book is snatched quickly from his hand, and Panga eagerly starts flipping through the pages. Ren chuckles, and leaves him to it, settling himself on the small blanket next to Druid Colptha. To his surprise, Panga trots over, nose buried in the book, and settles himself next to the Druid, curling himself into a small ball against her side as she pours two glasses of what he finds is honeysuckle wine. For a while, they settle into a polite and enjoyable conversation. When Ren is quite sure that Panga isn’t paying attention to their conversation, he shifts topics.

“Druid Colptha. I am not familiar with the culture of catfolk, but Panga seems to be a lone child. Can I trust that he is under your care?”

The druid chuckles softly. “Ah, yes. Panga is an interesting case. He has been as safe as I can keep him here, but he seems to enjoy getting himself into trouble.”

“And I assume you’re aware of his tail situation?” He muffles the last few words into the rim of the glass as he takes a drink. Panga’s ear only absently twitches.

“I am.” She sighs, and glances as the child out of the corner of her eye. “Unfortunately, he seems unwilling to accept help on the matter.”

“I see.” Ren nods, and he isn’t surprised by her confirmation in the least.

Suddenly, the calm peace of the clearing is broken as the book snaps shut, and Panga is on his feet. His shoulders are hunched, and his big blue eyes are locked in a glare directed straight at Ren.

“You are a liar!” He almost shouts the accusation as he tosses the book towards Ren. “You are a liar, Ren, and you have cheated our deal!”

“I assure you, I did not, Panga.” He catches the book before it hits the small plate still half full of fruit. “I gave you a book in exchange for you guiding me here, that was our deal.”

“That is a fake book, I did not agree to a fake book!” Panga takes a step towards him, and Ren is suddenly very aware of the sharp claws at the end of fingers that are balling in and out of fists.

Ren takes the moment to stand, holding his hands out in a calming manner. “I am not sure what you mean. I can guarantee that it’s a real book. I had no intention of cheating you.”

“I ask for book on gods and you give me pretend story book for kits!”

“Ah, I see. It is a book of fiction, but it’s an old parable of Sarenrae.” Ren sighs, tucking the book back into his bag, and digging back through his memory of the collection he has on him. “I promise I wasn’t trying to cheat you, I thought it would be an appropriate choice.”

This explanation seems to start to calm Panga, his fur remains on end and his breathing a big rapid, but he crosses his arms. “This book is nothing. I did my part of our deal and you did not.”

“Well, I would offer you another, but I don’t have any informational texts with me, at the moment.” He lets out another sigh, and pinches the bridge of his nose. The one time he doesn’t have a formal text to study while on the road, of course. “I could get one from Kondul, and come back-”

“No! You are cheater at question game, I do not trust you will come back.”

“I can promise you, if you stay with Druid Colptha I’ll know where-” He stops as he glances to Druid Colptha, or at least, where she used to be. In her place is an elegant doe, one that winks at him before bounding into the trees and disappearing. Fucking druids.

“You get lost on well made path, you will never come back.” He seems to throw the low ball insult in just for fun. “You are a cheat and a liar, Ren.”

“Well, all my books are back at the shop. I don’t know what to tell you, Panga.” He lets out a short sigh, at least he finally dropped the ‘Mister’, but that’s probably not a good thing. “I am truly sorry.”

Pangas arms are still crossed, but his eyes are calculating. “Then, I come with. To city and shop because Ren is a good liar.”

“I thought you didn’t like the city.”

“Don’t understand does not mean I don’t like.” He breaks eye contact, the glare softening into something more pensive. “I come with and you teach me to lie good, and you give me book.”

“You want to come with me to the city?”

“For my book, yes, liar Ren.” He nods decisively, as though the conversation is over, and Ren supposes that it might well be.

“Well, alright then. I don’t know my way back anyways, so I suppose we might as well.” Panga’s posture immediately changes as Ren relents, arms uncrossing, and ears perking back up in excitement. Ren gestures towards what he believes is the direction of Kondul. His business was finished here anyways. “After you.”