Friends and Enemies at the Edge of the Wood

Oliver and his new companions had trudged in the direction that the Lost Boys had pointed in for almost three hours now, and the scenery had definitely changed. It was refreshing, really, to see scraggly underbrush transform into lush green wild grass and colorful flora. Oliver was always surprised to see how beautiful the other side could be. Overhead, a hawk soared in the sky, crying out in delight. How amazing it must feel to be free, Oliver thought.

"Come on, hurry up!" He said encouragingly to the others, who were a few paces behind his. Oliver was beginning to like this job he had been given. It was...fun, almost.

Oliver smiled at Greylyn, and nodded. "Of course I don't mind! I wouldn't want you to overexert yourselves." He promptly plopped down on a patch of moss, and took out a matchbook from his pockets. "I've got matches, as well...and...one moment..." Oliver paused, and closed his eyes in concentration. He felt himself sink into deep meditation, as the sunlight was engulfed in shadow. All was dark.

It was not a hard thing, really, to plunge into the murky waters of death. No, maybe that wasn't the right word for it. Oliver didn't really know what it was, only that this strange place existed on another plane of reality, accessible only to shadows. This realm was so deafeningly silent that it would madden any mortal who entered. But to Oliver, and countless other shadows that sought refuge here? It was perfect.

Oliver felt his entire being taken over by some cumbersome magic, and he staggered forward. This place would swallow up the weary, that was for sure. But he was stronger than that. Smirking, he began to clasp his hands together, only to have them pressured away from each other by an unknown force, much like two positive magnets. Suddenly, there was a brilliant shining light between Oliver's hands, and he soared upwards, carrying the shining object in his hands...soon, he was taken by the light...

Gasping, Oliver felt himself return to mortal land. He was disoriented at first, but soon gained his bearings. Laughing at Kal and Greylyn's faces, he pulled out the object that he had been seeking from his cloak-a brand-new pot.

He was very proud of himself, and his expression showed it. That was the first time he'd been able to create an object. He felt color return to his body in a rush of warm energy, and soon his hair returned to it's brilliant blonde. That was the one thing he disliked about going into that mysterious shadow sanctum. The desaturation.

Kal let Greylyn lean against his arm, supporting her as they stepped through trees into a refreshing green that suddenly allowed him to breathe easier. His mind wadered and wondered, always returning to escape, escape from Neverland. Suddenly, Greylyn yanked down the collar of Oliver.

“Listen here, Mister Cheerful, let me tell you a story, once upon a time there was an elf, who was so sick and tired of being told what to do that she ran the next person that gave orders through with a spear. The end. Isn’t that pleasant?”

Kal snorted, unable to contain his blithe amusement, catching Greylyn's surly eye. He felt the weird urge to smack the back of her head and muss up her hair, but logic told him that was...well definetly not the aproppriate thing to do in this situation. In a second, he wondered why he had thought of it at all. Greylyn sunk down into the grass, Kal noticed with concern her face was pale, and her thinness was now exaggerated to rather terrible sticklike proportions. Kal brushed his own, taunt stomach that was now grumbling hungrily.

“Mister Kal, would you be so kind as to find some sorrel? And, while you’re at it, a box of matches, a few pints of water and a stew pot? You know what sorrel looks like, right? Yellow flowers; clover-like greens; low to the ground…? And, I wasn’t teasing about the water part.” Kal looked at her slight form, and nodded with a small, warm smile.

“But, if you can’t find anyway, I’m sure you’ll see some morel mushrooms or something of the sort. Be a dear and bring back what you manage to find, mm? It’s a bit past noon, I believe, and I don’t plan on us not having dinner again.” She added, Kal's smile broke into an illplaced grin. Hunger looked awful on her, but at least seemed to become her in that the sting of her sarcasam seemed much softer towards him. He wondered rationally if she had transferred her aggrivation toward Oliver, seeing as she glared daggers at him everytime her pale green orbs fell in his direction.

"Yeah, um, sit right here Grey," He said, feeling a strange sort of affection brushing his last words in the light that they would be seperating after the meal. He turned and stepped through some bushes, looking down at the many plants amoung his feet. He frowned. Most of his scavanging life was spent eating urchins, fish, shellfish, birds eggs, sweaweed, and coastal fruit. He really had no idea what a sorrel was, and only a vague idea of what an edible mushroom would appear to be. He hummed absentmindely to himself, longing feverishly for some substantial food, but pushing it out of his mind for strange fantasies that involved Oliver showing him the way out of Neverland. Only...it was always Jaiden who appeared at the last second. Kal knew with every fiber of his being that she knew how to get off Neverland, and angrily felt himself wishing she'd appear.

She can't be trusted. He told himself firmly. Suddenly he spotted some brown, soft mushrooms clustering underneath a large, heart shaped leaf. He plucked them easily from the ground, putting them in his satchel. A while later he found a plant that...well he thought it did, fit the description of sorrel that Greylyn had delegated to him.

He breathed in the mulchy, living, growing air, stepping through greenery and some gold lily petals as he paroosed the undergrowth for nothing in paticular now. The vestiges of freedom tugged at his essence, and he had a primal wish just to run and leave both parties behind. He knew better though, and dismissed the urge, a contemplative heaviness settling over him as he realized the responsiblity of meeting other, significant people.

Kal suddenly grinned hugely. A short, gnarled tree beside him covered in lichens and knotholes, was carrying heaps of heavy, dark plums from its slender branches, bowing under the weight. Kal loaded up as many as he could in his satchel, biting into one with a groan of satisfation as sweet juice dribbled down his chin. He quickly returned to the clearing, stumbling over a log as he entered to see...

Oliver, at first with a strained and out of it expression, color drained from his very pores, suddenly shook himself back to life and pulled from the crinkles of a shadowy cloak (made of real shadows perhaps), a newly fabricated pot. Willed into being, it seems. Kal's mouth dropped as Oliver laughed. A few plums rolled from his satchel.

"What did you do?" He said, his voice loud in frank astonishment.

"What did you do?" The human, Kal, questioned. Oliver loved how easy it was to impress people with petty magic tricks. He neared Greylyn cautiously, and set the pot next to her.

"My lady...for you." He whispered. Oliver had no clue how to approach the elf without getting his head bit off. He turned around to face the boy.

"Oh, that's a secret. But maybe I could teach you sometime...see this pot? I made it. It's not all that hard, really, if you know what you're doing. I don't really understand it, but this pot is a copy of another somewhere else in the world. I robbed that original of it's shadow, and created this new one." Oliver smiled. He enjoyed confusing mortals more than anything else.

The Shadow nodded, and picked up his pot gingerly, muttering something about forests and water under his breath. After close examination of the soil, he decided on a direction and started walking leisurely through the forest, alone at last.
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Oliver treasured the time spent by himself. It gave him a chance to reflect, and decide on the best course of action. He was a planner, not an action-taker. Chuckling, he realized how many times he'd had to act out of character lately-without time to meditate, Oliver usually made bad decisions and came across as arrogant. He was begining to understand why the elf hated him with such a passion-he probably seemed like a huge...well, jerk.

Nearby, Oliver could hear the sound of flowing water, and quickened his pace. He wanted to get back to his 'companions' as soon as possible, and the longer he took, Oliver reasoned, the more likely they were to leave him behind. That, and he had the strange feeling that he was being followed. Was it Jaiden? No...Jaiden would not make such a ruckus when stalking her prey. Whoever his pursuer was, they were clambering about quite noisily somewhere close. It could just be a forest animal...but he couldn't be too careful. Dropping the pot, he turned briskly and shouted out into the woods:

"Who's there? I won't hurt you...just show me your face."

Suddenly, a figure burst from concealment, running at him at an impossible speed. She called out the Shadow's name, and soon was upon him, tackling him with an unexpectedly strong force.

"Oh, that's a secret. But maybe I could teach you sometime...see this pot? I made it. It's not all that hard, really, if you know what you're doing. I don't really understand it, but this pot is a copy of another somewhere else in the world. I robbed that original of it's shadow, and created this new one."

Kal eyed him all the more warily, his skin crawling. He immediatly thought of Jaiden, turning that hard stone wall into nothing but shadow, almost the reverse. It seemed so strange, that one could make a shadow into something physical, and something physical into shadow. Truley, the shadows had powers beyond imagining. Kal glanced up between crisscrossed leaves, dappled in a growing sunlight from the morning air. The sweet green leaves framed bits of blue-ing sky.

Then Greylyn was at his elbow, taking his satchel and rummaging critically through his stash of potentially edible forest he had ripped from the brush. She sneered at the mushrooms he had chosen, but at least the sorrel seemed acceptable. Throwing a plum rather meanly at Oliver, she began briskly preparing the sorrel in a no-nonsense, knowledgable way that Kal appreciated. He had no idea how to eat most land food. He sad criss cross beside her, helping himself to another plum as Oliver disappeared into the forest, new black pot in hand.

Once they were alone, he looked at her quietly.

"Well..." He started, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "I suppose you'll be heading off alone then. I mean, we're safe now, and I'll probably be heading back into something dangerous. It's not worth it, for you I mean. You're not trying to find away off Neverland. You shouldn't risk it."

He said these words slowly, hearing there truth and there ease, it wasn't a lie. Really, he would miss his first travel companion. As coarse and disagreeable as she often seemed, Kal knew that at least he could trust her when surrounded by shady characters whos motives were so unclear. Greylyn seemed to live in the now of logic and base values that Kal appreaciated. But this journey he had set on, it was his dream, not hers. Kal looked around the greens and browns of the forest, is heartbeat seemingly throbbing agianst the irrepresably silent and still earth of the twisted oaks just a hundred feet away.

Oliver spluttered out the girl's name as the air was squeezed from his lungs.

"Bjorn..?"

The fact that he'd remembered her pleased Bjorn to no end. They had only met twice before, and that was ages ago. She jumped in the air excitedly, taking Oliver with her by the collar of his shirt. The Shadow had no idea where such strength came from, or why the fallen Princess was so happy. When it came down to it, he had always been afraid of the pirate. True, they were supposed to be in love...but how could he even admire her if all she did was pull off crazy stunts and prattle on about nonsense? He raised his eyebrow at her, a bemused expression playing across his face. No, he could not love her. Not even if he tried. Bjorn was far too silly for him! But she was his duty, after all. For the sake of the Shadow's efforts, he had to keep her in high spirits.

Bjorn's entire face lit up at the sight of her idiot prince. She kissed his cheek, and released him from her grip.

"Allo, Olivah! Fancy seein' you 'round heah! Wot ye up tew, wundrin' around the furrest?" She asked him, her words practically indecipherable through her thick accent. Ashamed as she was of her speech, she thought that, possibly, Oliver might find her slurs charming. She looked him over, sighing as she did so. Every part of him radiated nobility...the very nobility that would set her free from her great-great-great grandad's curse. Sure, it was decietful of her to charm her way to freedom, but it wasn't as if she didn't like the shadow...he had his...perks, you could say.

"Well, my dear, I was just taking a walk. Would you care to join me?" He replied swiftly. Bjorn nodded, and walked beside him as he began to carry the pot back to Greylyn and Kal. There was a silence between the two for a while, and all that could be heard was the slopping of water in the pot. Eyeing the skies, Oliver worried that he would soon dissapear if he didn't find adequate lighting soon. Though he was rather indifferent about the princess, he was a gentleman, and would not have her lost in the woods after dark.

"Come, my pet, let us quicken our pace. These woods make me...uneasy." He gestured to Bjorn, and they soon neared the campsite where Greylyn and Kal waited.

Kal shrugged, glancing away from the awkwardness of holding Greylyn's waivering gaze. If all went well, and he got off Neverland sooner rather than later, he might never see her again. Kal thought of his mother and friends back at the mercolony, and how now that he was on this path he probably would never see any of them again either. A sickening coil tightened around his heart for a second, but then he thought of his world, the one he belonged in. He imagined laughing with friends, working hard at something he loved, living in one of those grand houses. Swimming there, what would it be like? Kal dreamed, weaving his fantasy of a place where things were good, and bad, but the good was so great, and life was lived from birth to death. From youth to age. Here, he may become trapped in the body of a seventeen year old, but there, he could grow up. Become a man. Have a family. Kal rubbed his freckled forehead with his thumb, a smear of dirt appearing there.

"I dunno, I figure it's my best bet." He said heavily after a pause, "Shadow's seem to know more than they're telling around here. I have yet to ask him, but if Jaiden knew how to escape, why not Oliver?" He glanced up, hearing a rustling in the leaves, his body newly invigorated by the plums, and tensing as was reflex.

Oliver stepped through the brush, arm in arm with a girl. She had a slightly unsteady gait, and the lopsided grin slapped upon her otherwise elegent features made her appear ecstatic to the point of crazyness. Her thick red hair was pulled back sloppily, strands of red glinting in the falling sunlight. Steely, but crudely made gray armor clad her body in seperate, sickle shaped peices peices, and a salt smelling, blue robe sparkled eerily over her shoulders. Her eyes were a weird bone color, but Kal could see they pulsed with hidden fire, as if her eyes were also red. The red of a fire so hot that it turned the covering logs a bright charred white. Kal caught a pulse of darkness around the edge of her skin, feeling immediatly that Oliver had brought another shadow to the clearing.

"Who's this?" He said boldly. His blue eyes flashing.

"Who's this?" Kal said boldly.

"This is...ah...this is..." Oliver stopped mid-sentence, blinking furiously for a moment before capturing the human's gaze. "This is my fiance." He gestured towards Bjorn as though she was some otherworldly saint. Bjorn nodded, and stepped towards the light, shadow-cape rustling audibly.

"I'm called Bjorn, Bjorn the Crazed, Bjorn the Terrible, Bjorn the what 'ave ye. Wha' ever you can thinka, I been called it. An' what do they call you? Dun be shy lad, I may be crazy but I aint' gonna bite...if ye dunt prevoke me, 'at is." Oliver watched her as she spoke. How could someone of such noble (if not cruel) lineage speak so crudely? She certainly didn't give off the best impression. But they didn't have the time for lengthy introductions, not when the moon was creeping up the sky. He stepped closer to the firelight, and the princess followed his steps, taking her seat beside Greylyn, splaying her legs out in opposite directions and slumping her shoulders.

Bjorn spoke in a hiccupy accent that rose and fell like a feirce tide that crashed harmlessly against the belly of a wide, steady ship. Her words almost made as little sense as the circumstances in which she had appeared. [i]Fiance?[i/] Kal thought warily. He cleared his throat, coughing awkwardly, feeling weirdly out of place like a fish out of water. Greylyn, who had scootched to his side, suddenly stood and staggered off into the dark, reppelling the whole schenario.

"Greylyn, wait!" Kal called, his head turning quickly and awkwardly from the pair of shadows to Greylyn's disappearing form as he got to his feet. He picked up the sorrel off the ground, brushing off the dirt as he saw in releif Greylyn's form come to a halt some ten feet from camp, shrinking to a little lump against a tree back. The blue of the sky was deepening quickly, filling the woods. The fire was hot against the cool blue. Kal tossed the sorrel half heartedly into the pot of water, which had been set amoung the smoldering bits of wood. Kal shied away from the flames. He had seen them before, but never liked it. In his mind, fire was the antithesis of water. Water would heal, fire would hurt. He liked his food cold anyway. Kal picked up another plum, fingering it quietly with his hands before fully facing Oliver and his fiance who sat on the ground, her body splayed out unlady-like.

"So I suppose this was the beautiful woman you spoke of?" Kal said awkwardly, wondering how this vulgar shadow had the power to help the shadow-being war. He could feel his trust shutting down slightly, and frowned upon himself. They were still people, he should treat them as such. He ran his fingers through his hair, clenching his scalp.

"Listen, we need to eat." He said, sitting down, his eyes seeking out Greylyn in the distance, directing his request toward her. She had to come back, to get nourishment, at least. "But, I agreed to accompany you wherever you are going, because I have a request;"

He eyed the pair warily, digging his bare toes into a patch of spongy moss.

"I need a way off Neverland,"

Oliver shivered. They didn't think...no, of course they thought that him and the princess were in love. Really, though, they were just two strangers caught in an unfortunate situation. What's more, they believed Bjorn to be a shadow. So...they didn't know who she truly was? That could be a good thing, Oliver reasoned. But...Greylyn would have nothing to do with her if she were a shadow. Oh, how tiring this all is... he thought to himself. This was going to be a long, long night.

"No...this is not the woman I seek. I am searching for the Halfling Princess-tell me, Kal, have you seen her? I myself do not know entirely how to get off Neverland...but I do know someone in the city who may hold the answers you seek." Bjorn's expression went from joyful exhaustion to crestfallen and ashamed as he spoke. Of course the Shadow didn't love her. Of course he wouldn't search for her. What a fool she'd been, believing all this time that he was her fairy tale prince.

"Ah, well if that ain't a noble miss'n then I dunno whut is! Sure we'll help ya, dearie! I've got ships te spare, jus' name the place an' I'll getcha there!" Bjorn offered. For some reason or another, Oliver had deigned to help these...people. Then again, he was known for unjust kindness-something that she simply could not comprehend. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, feeling the chill of the crisp night vanish along with her torso and legs, which were replaced with a strange, dark, cloudlike matter. Leaning against Oliver, she closed her eyes, exhausted.

"No...this is not the woman I seek. I am searching for the Halfling Princess-tell me, Kal, have you seen her? I myself do not know entirely how to get off Neverland...but I do know someone in the city who may hold the answers you seek." Kal's conciousness immediatly rushed around the information, his stomach clenching.

"Yes," He finally said, his voice low and skin prickling. "I saw her right before she disappeared. I swear, I didn't hurt her."

His brow wrinkled with pent up anxiety and anger in remebering his breif encounter with a seemingly light-hearted and good-natured princess whos awful disapperance had thrust him into such ungainly a predicimant.

"They think I did it," He confessed, his grip tightening on his knife. "Greylyn and I, we're fugitives..." His eyes slid back to where Greylyn sat, and with a pang he realized she was gone. His heart clunked noisily in his chest, and it felt like his stomach had disappeared for a moment, returning to be filled with lead. So she had...just left. Without saying goodbye even. Kal picked up a stick and began scraping his knife angrily against it. Well, whatever. It wasn't as if they had been close. Just two strangers thrust together by strange, and mostly bad coincidences. It was best she was gone. The stick broke in two and Kal tossed it to the side, blowing hard out his mouth and closing his eyes.

"The city," He managed to say, his long, bare body laying down on the ground as the sky began to purple to black like an ugly bruise. The fire was hot and crackly against the cool of the night air. "Which one? Twisted Oak? Or Everblossem?"

Kal thought of Jaiden. She always seemed to be hovering at the edges of his thoughts now. This dark, tempting prescence. You know where to find me... More and more he wanted to just take off and find Twisted Oak. But no, he wouldn't. He'd told himself he wouldn't trust her, wouldn't trust the dark and strange. If only he wasn't labled as a criminal, how he'd long to march right back to Everblossom and search for someone right and kind to show him the way.

“You… you will butcher the soup, I suppose.” Greylyn mumbled. Kal started, scrambling to a seated position. “So I’d better stop you from doing that. After supper I’ll be heading off.”

"Greylyn!" He said happily, struggling to conceal a smile. "Thought you'd already left." He moved over, allowing her a space around the boiling pot. He watched her admiringly as she crushed some deliciously spicy and cool smelling leaves. Immediatly the soothing aroma rose from the warm water. Saliva rushed into Kal's mouth, and he ran his tongue over his lips, hungering for the food.

"I wonder how feircely they're still looking for us," He said, rather to himself, leaning back to look up at the sky, rather than stare at Greylyn or his two shadow companions that had started to really put him on edge.

Dorran squinted, trying to make out the shapes and shadows of the dark. His dark eyes flickered back and forth, making out only the shapes of tree after tree. The forest floor was studded with moss, sticks and some sort of fungi, and Dorran's feet stepped carefully around their shadowy faces. The cool breeze pressed itself up against his face. Shuddering, Dorran readjusted his bag and gently placed his mask back on his face. He held a white piece of paper, glowing from moon's reflection, in his left hand.

Oliver sniffed as he looked down at his feet, which were slightly transparent. Ah well, he thought. I'll live. However, he noticed that Bjorn was using that strange cloak of hers for warmth, and it dawned on him that the other travellers must think her a shadow. There wasn't much he could do about it though, and he thought it wiser not to wake the poor human.

"Do not be so distrustful, Greylyn. She is not my kind. Clumsy blood coarses through her veins. I gingerly await the day when I am rid of her." His words were like poison, and he was glad that the pirate was deep in slumber, for he would not have spoken so truthfully otherwise.

"And I meant Everblossom, which will be dangerous if you are truly being hunted, as you say. Could you not go disguised? Are you willing to take the risk? It is for your freedom, after all. Wait...there is someone in the woods." Oliver stood up, gripping his blade. He peered into the darkness, but could see nothing. Their follower may still be far away, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.

Kal sat up on his right arm, his eyes furtively scanning the bushes, while his ears listening to his companions. Where were they, on some sort of trail? Well, Kal had never traversed the woods before, perhaps that was why he didn't expect the woods to be so...crowded.

He felt strangely sickened by Olivers comment. Yes, the girl was not ideal or poised in any dignified social way, but she was still a human being it seemed, not a shadow. He himself was a "Clumsy" as Oliver had so crudely put it. Kal felt unreasonably angered. Clumsy indeed. What they did in his world, those strange machines, well maybe he might not be as skilled physically as the rest of the races of this world, but the intelligence of his kind had obviously surpassed the bridge beteeen worlds.

Kal considered the revulsion in Olivers voice as he expressed his desire to be rid of her...Kal glanced at Oliver out of the corner of his eye, then rolled over and looked at Bjorn. She had said she had ships, Kal suddenly wondered warily if she was a pirate. He bit his lip. He had seen pirates off coast when he was younger, but his mother had forbid him to approach them. Out of respect for her, and wishing to protect his colony, he never had approached the jolly rogers waving in the distance. Now Kal wondered if he was about to make contact with one.

He sat up, angling his body closer to Greylyn, as if trying to move his spirit towards the comfort of the understanding. He understood that Greylyn had good in her heart.

“Mm, would you happen to know where those mushrooms from earlier went?” Greylyn asked him. He picked up his satchel from where it lay on a patch of moss, now a dried crackly sponge from the heat of the flames. He rummaged through it, then spotted the handful of brown caps, now slightly shriveled in the fires heat. A strange, smokey smell came from them as he picked them up, handing them to Greylyn, his large hands dropping the mushrooms into her small ones with a smile.

"Man, I don't know what I'd eat besides fruit if you wern't here Greylyn," He said into the silence. "I suppose for some reason I thought I'd be able to go fishing wherever I went. But man...do I ever dislike this thing called inland." He chuckled softly, then looked back at the bushes, the walking sounds were getting louder. Wearily, he drew his blade and twirled it slowly in his hands, watching the bushes.

"Oi, show yourself! Drop your weapon if you have one!" He hollered. Then, after a sheepish pause, added. "Suppers on. If you're just a simple traveler."

Oliver had to laugh a little at Kal's remark. He was far too soft for his own good. He turned to Greylyn, who had been asking him about...bowls, was it?

"Not now, Greylyn. We may have an enemy in the woods. What if they are the ones sent to search for you? I cannot risk letting my guard down and having you hurt." His bright eyes scanned the forest again, cutting through the darkness like two lanterns. Slowly, he unsheathed his sword, which was pulsating with shadow-stuff and giving him a nauseating feeling of bloodlust. It was an evil blade, yes, but a powerful one all the same. Oliver glanced at his sleeping bride. Had he been too harsh? But...he really did not love her, and never would. But he would protect her, and keep her safe and happy...'till death. He shuddered at the realization of those words, a promise that, in Neverland, bound him to the pirate for a thousand eternities.

Dorran's throat tightened. "I have no weapon, I assure you. I'm just a simple traveler... Don't usually pass through here, though. I have no idea where I am." He frowned slightly at his honestly. He'd always been a bit too honest, and it might have done him some good to withdraw that information. Oh well, it was too late now. He stood up straighter, looking towards the faint light of the fire. "I have a message for you, something about a Dr. Stow?" He glanced down at the paper, trying to read it in the faint light. He shrugged. "If you're willing to not kill me, I could give it to you now."

Kal leaned warily away from Oliver and his drawn weapon. It was a terrible looking thing, and Oliver himself seemed to take a turn for the nastier merely holding it, comfortably. Suddenly he wasn't so sure he shouldn't just feed the pair and then take off by himself, before he was into deep with the suspicious characters. Kal winced as he realized that this was the kind of company he would have to keep on the wrong side of the law, and fervently, but foolishly, wished that somehow, someway, the unforunate circumstances that had lead to his encarceration had somehow played out differently.

"I have no weapon, I assure you. I'm just a simple traveler... Don't usually pass through here, though. I have no idea where I am." A voice spoke from the brush, Kal tilted his head, seeking out the form of someone standing just outside the fires ring of light. It was a bipedal figure, maybe an inch or two shorter than he. But human, elf or shadow? Which could it be? "I have a message for you, something about a Dr. Stow?"

Kal squinted, suddenly very much confused. "Who is this message for?" He asked. Oliver most likely, it seemed he was doing some intel work in finding the princess that would require messages. But who would be sending one to him?

Then he thought of Jaiden. What if she had given this stranger a message for him? He felt his stomach twist as he longed and loathed for another offer of freedom. Or perhaps the stranger merely meant it was one of those notices that are meant to be spread, a primitive form of news. But the message was of Dr. Strow.. why did that name sound familiar.

Between heartbeats, glancing at the fire, Kal remebered. Dr.Strow. That was the name of the man who had bandaged him and brought Greylyn down to see him. Suddenly there was a weird rush in his ears. What could the message possibly be about? He tried to blot out a growing, creeping feeling that somehow, someone else was in danger.

And it would be all his fault.

"If you're willing to not kill me, I could give it to you now." He said. Kal carefully sheathed the knife, not taking his eyes of the stranger.

"Alright, come forward into the firelight." He said slowly, trying to force some welcome into his voice. "I'm afraid you'll find us a strange bunch of strangers and half-friends. Weird circumstances have brought us together, as they've brought you here."

He laughed uncertainly, hoping beyond hope this new visitor wouldn't recognize him, Greylyn, a shadow and a pirate as mortal enemys.