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Syro jumped. "Wait-- what just happened?" He looked closely at the two wolves. "You were both shape-shifters, weren't you? You were very close to Rokkel." His voice became more scratchy, as if a presence had come over him.
Your pack is your tribe, and against all odds you must join like a puzzle with those who work against you to save your pack and your family and defeat an evil darker and more sinister than your most present and cruel nightmares.
Shylii nods, her image flickering. "We tokk the form of wolves physically as a trade for immortality so as to protect future shape-shifters like Rokkel and Kanuna. I, though, in spirit can still become human. Not for long."
"Kenai and Shylii... Demon Bane and Lady Killer," Rokkel says, painfully sitting up.
Syro shook off the words. "What did I say?" he asked. "When I spout a prophecy, it may be important. It could be the prophecy god speaking through me." He looked at the wolves. "You are immortal?"
"I doubt it was a prophecy." Rokkel waves a hand dismissively at the wolves, murmuring "Thank you," in Shasta before returning her attention to Syro. "You asked if Kenai and Shylii were once shape-shifters and said they were close to me. Both are true. But you said nothing aloud that sounded to me like a prophecy."
"Really?" he asked. "Because I could hear myself speak. He shuddered. "Normally people can hear my prophecies. Something odd is going on here..." he trailed off worriedly. "Never mind. So you'll be okay, right?"
"We better hope so. Shy couldn't heal me entirely, but enough to go back to fighting a bit, and I'll heal faster than normal," Rokkel says, frowning slightly and touching her ribs. "Not that I expect you to care about whether or not I died. We're basically enemies still."
"Once this whole thing is over, I suppose," Syro agreed, though he didn't want to. "But at the same time, I probably couldn't save the tribes without help." He bit his lip. "Don't go back to fighting to quickly, okay?"
"I know my limits, Syro. I'll be fine," Rokkel says, shrugging slightly. "And it isn't that I want to be enemies, it's only that our tribes would never allow, well... This."
"Isn't that why we're here?" Syro pointed out. He laid his bow on a rock outside the cave and began to sharpen his arrows. "I'm going to hunt this evening."
"I'll come," Rokkel says after a moment. "The wolves can take us to game. They always have for me."
( (Bump) )
Syro paused for a moment. "I'm debating over whether to let you come." He stuffed the arrow in his quiver and pulled out another one.
"You're actually trying to protect me?" Rokkel mutters, glancing at him in surprise. "Hunting game with a bow and arrows isn't half as dangerous as fighting a demon in animal form."
"Well," Syro said as if it were obvious, "You weren't injured when you first took on the demon. And of course I'm trying to protect you. Do you think Roga would ever let me off the hook if you died?" He didn't mention that he would be sad if she died, because it seemed like such a dark matter to say aloud.
"I'm not willing to wait and watch like a normal squaw, thank you. I'm not normal, Syro. You should understand that better than anyone. I'm coming," Rokkel says, gtting to her feet. Her copper eyes flickered angrily, daring him to try stopping her.
( (Bump) )
Syro drew in a deep breath. "Fine. You're coming. And believe me, if you were normal you wouldn't have gotten injured in the first place, because the demon wouldn't have attacked us." He grabbed his bow and quiver and tromped into the forest.
Rokkel rolls her eyes, grabbing her bow and quiver before following. "You don't have to hide what you feel from me," she says quietly, walking a few paces behind him and to his hair, her hair fluttering in the occasional breeze.
( (Bump) )
"It's an instinct," he replied with a glimmer of happiness. "I'm used to it." He listened closely for the stream, hoping that it would lead him to some thirsty game.