Over and over her mother tells her, “Don’t go past the wall. It’s dangerous, and you’re not fit for it!” Well, yes, she does know it, which is precisely the reason she’s even out here. Double pointed spear in hand, she wanders the hills outside Fawna every week the first chance she gets, looking for anything dark to sneak its way into the light.

Olive brown skin wraps tight around thick muscle in her arms and legs, resulting in a slim but sturdy form. Wearing just baggy brown pants and a sweat stained green tank top in her bare feet, her emerald green eyes pierce the horizon as she searches for enemies. As a Wolfborne Fawn, she carries several characteristics typical of an average wolf. Most notably, two pointed ears poke out from her chocolate brown hair, pulled together in a long braid reaching down to the swishing tail behind her. She dashes across the field, leaping her way into a tree with ease, gripping a branch with her right and her spear with her left, she further scans for anything that stands out.

Her eyes catch something dark moving between the hills. Bingo.

Her legs tense, her muscles flex, and she grins, two pronounced canines gleaming. With as much strength as she can muster, she pounces from the tree with a wild cry, twirling her spear with both hands for effect, before bringing it stabbing down on the creature’s head.

The head promptly snaps off.

For a moment, she stands there, staring blankly at the broken head of her spear, still in a combative stance, before looking up at her supposed prey. A figure cloaked in black armor looms over her, their eyes shining bright, bloody red from within their helmet. At their sides are two lookalike blades with serrated edges fashioned to resemble feathers or wings. She steps back hesitantly, unsure of what she’s even seeing. What kind of freak walks out here with armor like that in broad daylight? And… are those horns…? Ah crap…

The Demon looks down startled at the trembling girl. “Well, that didn’t quite go how you expected it to, did it?” they chuckle, before one clawed hand thrusts out and grips the girl by the neck. She scratches at their metal grieves, legs thrashing around as she’s lifted into the air with ease. The Demon snorts. “Please, this is the Armor of Pride. One little girl isn’t going to make a dent.” They easily toss her to the ground, her limp body rolling onto her back before she stares up at the great blue above, her chest working overtime to force as much oxygen as it can down her throat. The Demon eclipses the sun, and she scrambles to sit up, beginning an awkward crab walk before getting a swift boot to the side of the head.

Her vision swims, her head pounds with the force of a sledgehammer, and she weakly claws at the ground, desperately attempting escape. There’s no sound of sliding metal, just the Demon’s hollow voice: “Maybe next time, look before you leap.” She looks up through shaking eyes, catching a glimpse of the shining blade, before…

A high pitched whistle suddenly rings through the valley, before a glimmering blue blade suddenly lands full-force into the dirt between girl and death. The Demon stumbles back, surprised again, looking up to the hill above to see a sudden oncoming monsoon. In a whirlwind of brown and blue, a boy now takes up the space between the combatants.

Will Newbie glares down at the Demon, wearing a grin that closely resembles a snarl and clutching his trusty blade in his left hand.

“So he was right. You are the Champion,” the Demon says nonchalantly, as if they completely expected him to show up in the middle of this random fight. Elizabeth crashes to the ground beside them, but neither budge, continuing their impromptu staring match. “Still running scared from old ladies?” they say through an audible smirk. Will narrows his eyes, his smile thinning. “Still whimperin’ alone on the forest floor like a lost child?” he retorts. The Demon is taken mildly aback but shows no reaction, save for a slight, almost imperceptible twitch of the head. But he perceives it.

The Demon steps back, turning around and waving offhandedly, hiding behind a guise of aloofness. “Oh well, no use in crossing words or swords right now. I’ve my own plans to worry about, and I don’t need some caped crusader distracting me,” they call behind them as they walk off. “Fighting you right now is unnecessary anyways, but the time will come soon.” AAnd with that ominous threat, they disappear into the hills.

Elizabeth comes to Will’s side, ignoring her previous collapse and simply accepting it as a part of life. “You just gonna watch him walk off?” she asks as he stands there, unblinking. He nods defeatedly, coming to the unfortunate conclusion that he does indeed have absolutely no damn clue how to hold a sword, much less with his left hand. Besides, he’s seen them move, and he doesn’t plan on seeing it again anytime soon. So instead, he turns around, sheathing his sword and looking to the ground. “Welp, with him gone, lessee how you’re-”

He intended to look down to the girl, but she isn’t there. Looking up, he sees her sprawled face-first in the grass several feet away. Sighing, he jogs up the hill he just launched from to retrieve his bag.

---

The girl opens her eyes to the sight of a night sky and the smell of cooking meat. She blinks, her train of thought chugging along honey-laden tracks, before suddenly coming upon the memory of her getting absolutely beat into the dirt. She bolts up, an unfamiliar blanket tossed from her shoulders, before suddenly receiving a bullet to the brain and heading right back down.

Will looks up from the fire, skewered and roasted colorbun in hand, startled at her sudden awakening. He tilts his head, watching her groan as she cradles her aching skull. “You up?” he asks.

She blinks again, only now noticing his presence, straining to look up at him without moving her head. Her train of thought, still sloughing through several metaphorical sticky fluids, now weighed down by a billion thoughts and questions, comes to a screeching halt at a station simply labeled: “Mhm,” she mumbles. He chuckles, nodding as if it were a perfectly intelligent question and answer, before turning to his side and picking up a second skewer. He stretches his arm, offering it to her. She looks at it, recognizing it as several edible and inedible objects, before giving up and reaching a tired hand to take it.

She takes a bite. Then a second bite. A third. When she goes for her fourth, she realizes there’s none left. A sudden growling pierces the night, and her wolven ears perk up, fearing a predator, before she realizes it’s coming from her. “Wait, how long have I been out…?” she mutters. Will looks to the sky, thinking, before stating, “Around six hours.” Elizabeth, standing across the fire from him, nods in agreement, boredom plain on her face. The girl thinks it over, remembering she had hardly eaten before going on the hunt. She groans, finally fighting the pain enough to sit up, before looking over to her new captor.

Will chews his empty skewer absentmindedly, watching her rise, saying, “Ya prolly shoun’n’ do ‘at.” She just glares at him, before observing her surroundings. They haven’t moved. Just an empty valley around a few miles away from the gate to Fawna. She looks back to him, her eyes drifting up and down, sizing him up. He watches her do this, and judging by her look, she comes to a conclusion he’d expect.

“Ya don’ gotta look at me like that, ah still saved yer butt,” he says, tossing his skewer to into the fire, her quickly looking away. She wrinkles her nose, looking down at her lap where the blanket has gathered, asking, “Whose blanket is this? It stinks.” Will rolls his eyes, remarking, “Well, maybe next time you just shouldn’t get saved by some rando traveler from the sticks.” She glares at him. “Okay, enough. Just, what do you want from me?” she says dryly. He raises his eyebrows, mildly surprised at this. “What do I want? Ah don’ rilly wan’ nutin. Just a way inta Fawna, I guess.”

She narrows her eyes, suddenly looking up at him suspiciously. “And just why would you want that?” He sees her reaction, laughing nervously, quickly realizing his mistake. “Ohnononono, I don’ mean anythin’ bad, I jus’-” He hesitates, unsure what he’s supposed to do here. She watches him, taking note of his hesitation, watching for any signs of a threat. He gulps, realizing he doesn’t have any choice. He clears his throat, holding his hand out to his left, and summoning Windbreaker in a flash of blue glitter. He holds it out in front of him, letting her stare at it as he explains. “I’m the Human Champion, and I’m here to find someone to help me. We’re gonna fight th’ Demons, ah guess.”

She looks at him hard for a good, long moment, thinking. His heart pounds as he finishes, hoping he was at least a little convincing. He doesn’t have much confidence.

Finally, she snorts. “Riiiiigghhhtt,” she says, raising her brow. “And I’m Lita, the greatest fighter in Fawna.” Her voice is completely dripping with sarcasm, and his face drops. Of course she didn’t believe him. She grunts, pulling herself to her feet, looking down at him with disdain. “If you think some quick rescue and a fancy magic trick is gonna convince me to let you into my kingdom, you’re dumber than you look.” He doesn’t question what that’s supposed to mean, instead watching her turn, flipping her braid behind her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my family’s probably sent out the entire damn guard at this point looking for me, so I’ll be going.”

He watches her leave on wobbly legs, Elizabeth smirking from the side. “Well, you’re quite the talker, eh?” she chuckles. “What happened to ‘social interaction is the bane of my existence’?” He shakes his head, muttering, “Well, she was annoying,” and watching the stranger’s tail swish off into the night.

She walks.

And walks.

Stumbles a bit.

Stops, regains her footing.

Walks.

Trips.

Face first into the dirt.

Will sighs, hoisting himself to his feet, snatching up his blanket and going to assist her.

---

The girl opens her eyes.

“Don’t tell me-”

“You fell again.”

“Damnit.”

---

“So, you said yer name was-hngh-Lita?” he grunts, stumbling along with the girl riding piggyback, ignoring the screaming pain in his torn arm. Her eyes widen, either from the realization of what she'd let slip, or from the sudden lack of ground beneath her feet. “How about you just forget I said that, if my mom found out I gave some random Human my name-” “Well what’s me being Human got to do with it, huh?” he interrupts. She doesn’t finish. He decides it would be better to leave it at that.

They’ve been trudging along like this for almost two hours now, the Wall slowly growing closer and closer, Lita clinging desperately to his neck as he holds her by the legs. Elizabeth follows by their side, watching her brother struggle with delighted schadenfreude on her face, though internally worrying about just how much longer he can carry on like this. “Y’know, this would be a lot easier if you just weren’t so freakishly tall,” Lita complains. “Though I have to say, you’ve got some sturdy legs to have not fallen over just yet.” He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I got them nice n’ trained from the existential pressure ah been carryin’ this pas’ month.” She doesn’t seem to have a snarky retort for that.

As they get closer and closer, Will ignoring the agony in his arms and legs, and Lita fighting what’s probably a minor to severe concussion, her head starts to grow more and more fuzzy. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s her talking, or maybe it’s every stimulus in the world at once, but her vision has become increasingly blurry. As she slowly drifts to unconsciousness, Will starts to feel her grip slip, and her body grow heavy. He grits his teeth, hoisting her up his back, bending forward, but the sudden movement only sped up the process. Her eyes fall closed, and Will falls to the ground.

Elizabeth falls to her knees, waving her hands around as she tries to think of something to do. “Will, are you alright?!” she cries, as she hears him groan from beneath Lita’s slumped form. He pushes himself up, Lita slipping from his back as he stumbles back onto his butt. He looks down at her, breathing heavy, considering a few things he’d probably never do. Including likely the smart thing to do: leaving her here. Of course, his own heroic morals wouldn’t let him, but considering just how miserable things keep getting, it maybe wouldn’t be so bad.

Instead, he climbs to his feet, stretches, pops his back, before bending down and snatching the concussed Wolfborne by the wrists. He yanks her up, wrapping her arm around his neck, and hoists her onto his shoulder. Elizabeth watches, unsure whether she should stop him or not. So far, the girl’s been nothing but a brat, but she doesn’t exactly want to leave her for the vultures either. Still, Will’s in no condition to really help her…

Deaf to Elizabeth’s thoughts, Will keeps on keepin’ on, dragging Lita along with him.

---

He looks up, and suddenly he’s in front of the Wall, the past two hours completely gone from his memory. He brushes his hand over its surface, his fingertips sinking into the supposedly solid stone. He stumbles forward, walking into the wall, before finding himself in thick forest. Trees tower over the dirt road nearby, and there’s the sound of some sort of commotion, shouting voices and clanking metal. But all he can see is dirt.

Everything simultaneously feels as if it were lit on fire in an anthill while a thousand wasp stings cover every inch of skin, while being completely empty and numb. He hates it. He just wants it all to go away…

He was almost welcomed into the void, when he’s suddenly yanked from the ground, the sky crashing down on his head as he stares into a new face, one he doesn’t recognize. She looks angry, though he couldn’t imagine why. What’s there to be angry about? It’s fine, everything’s just fine, peachy, cool, swell, good enough. Just… put him back down, please… the ground was nice enough, nothing he wasn’t used to… There’s too much noise up here… Eventually she’s kind enough to swiftly swipe at his neck, letting him wash in the void once more.

He doesn’t quite dream, exactly, he mostly just hears. Random, unrecognizable noises, voices ranging from angry to just loud, and other things he doesn’t quite get. It’s all a bit much, and, to be honest, he’d prefer it if they’d all just pipe down for a second and let him sleep. Do they have any idea how long it’s been since he’s had a decent bed?