The human stopped in shock and turned.
Soen spoke in a calm voice that carried across the waters.
“Do you still hear the song. . the song in your mind?” the elf asked casually.
Drakis blinked. “How did you know?”
But then the tall manticore pulled forcefully at the human, and they both fled into the woods.
Soen, standing at the edge of the faery realm, took in a deep breath under his dark glare, turned, and picked up the tortured form of the Assesia called Jukung and made his way back down the stream.
Ruukag slid to a stop, his wide feet skidding across the rotting leaves that blanketed the forest floor. He fell at once into a crouch, his head swiveling quickly around as his wide eyes tried desperately to pierce the mist-laden spaces between the vertical tree trunks surrounding him like bars. The manticore could not take in enough air, could not rein in his fear. Panic circled around him like a predator that he could not see or smell but knew was waiting to pounce upon him if given the slightest opportunity.
RuuKag bared his fangs, growling at his own panic even as he shivered. He wanted to go back; was desperate to go back to the blissfully forgetful life that had been his comfort and his redemption.
Now he was alone, and he hated that more than anything. He had fled into the woods along with the others, but somehow they had all gotten separated in the mists. He knew that he should call out to them, find the reassuring sound of their voices regardless of who it was, and find some comfort in numbers, but he feared that the circling panic would hear his call and take him down under its terrible darkness.
A bush shook behind him. RuuKag spun about.
Another manticore stood before him, his wide paws open and extended out to the side.
RuuKag relaxed slightly.
“I couldn’t find you,” Belag said, his voice a low rumble among the trees. “Are you injured?”
“No. . no thanks to that hoo-mani.” RuuKag shuddered and then stood upright. “Where has he led us now?”
Belag raised his furry chin, his feline face looking slowly about. “The Murialis Woods. . a magical forest and a dangerous one by all accounts. It is not wise for us to be alone. Follow me and I’ll take you to the others.”
“We should leave them,” RuuKag sneered. “They are unworthy of us.”
“You do not believe in the Drakis Prophecies?” Belag asked in a steady voice.
“Stories told to cubs so that they might sleep at night,” RuuKag replied at once. “Lies perpetrated by the elders to keep themselves in power.”
Belag accepted the remark casually then turned, making his way between the mist-shrouded trees. RuuKag followed a moment later, his own steps close on the heels of his brother manticore.
“I was of the Khadush Clan,” Belag said as he pushed aside a thick fern in his path.
They were descending a gentle slope. RuuKag could hear the murmur of a brook somewhere nearby.
“Khadush?” RuuKag said. “I’m of Shakash Clan.”