The elder stared at the two foxes, and the sword strapped across Ryan's back.

"Y-young Whitetips?"

Ryan had seen the elder, but Mia hadn't.

Mia was Grey and white. The effect was soft and subtle compared to Ryan's vibrant red-orange fur. Her eyes were a deep blue.

Ryan transformed.

"What happened?", the elder said as he stood. The rocking chair creaked as it swung from his absence.

"Some men attacked the manor in the guise of soldiers. ", Ryan responded.

The elder paled, turned, and hurredly shuffled over into the next room.

Mia yipped.

A curse sounded from the other room.

Mia growled. When will this get easy? She still wasn't used to going back. Her her tiny thumping heart always distracting her from her grip on mana.

She sat down, deliberately slowing her panting to a fraction of the speed. In. Out. In. Ou- a dull ringing resonated through her scull.

It was the town bell, and the elder was belting it for all he was worth. There was no rythm to it.

She instinctively tried to cover her ears with her hands. It sort of helped. Ryan picked her up and ran outside, standing by under the tree that marked the centre of the village "square", some twenty metres in front of the village hall.

A man and woman armed with a spade and mattock were the first to arrive.

"What's going on?" the man demanded. The woman elbowed him. He put on an a smile.

They were never quite sure what to think of the family. When they had first come here, the villagers were...not entirely welcoming. The manor the King had so causally given them was formerly the property of a kindly old Baron, who had passed away some months after receiving news of the death of his only son. And if they heard the Whitetip name, it held additonal associations from earlier days. But whatever they each thought, they would always smile.

Ryan sighed. At least they don't treat us as kids. He explained briefly.

Mia had calmed down enough to transform, but wasn't comfortable attempting it in front of the gathering people.

Ryan began explaining again in more detail.

Mia saw Bill from the Milk shed approach, a few steps ahead of the old farmer. He's looking right at me.

The farmer jabbed him with the butt end of the rake. Hard. He fell face first into the dirt, and he planted his right hand dead centre into a thistle. Is he okay?

Ryan paused his explanation. Serves him bloody right!

The villagers began to discuss a course of action.

"Nothing needs to be done. They're safe now. ", one man said.

"They tried to kill a couple of kids! ", said another, wearing a blacksmith's apron.

"Not my problem! I'll have you know-", a voice from the back.

"Shut up the lot of yeh! I lost three sons in the war, I did! And if it wasn't for his old man, it would have been four!", a rounded old lady said. She was gripping a simple wooden mallet in her wrinkled hands.

Some of the villagers slipped away.

"Can you track?" a bearded man asked Ryan.

"Sure but-"

"Are you daft?!", Mallet lady yelled, "He just got here. Now move!". She spanked the poor sod.

"Dammit woman"

"Joe! You can track. ", she declared.

"A-alright. ", Joe caved under the assault.

Mallet lady stomped off.

The blacksmith jogged to catch up, unwilling to see her forge ahead on her own. That was all they needed by way of leadership. They either joined her or dispersed.

Heh, looks like an old bull at the head of a drive.

At last, Mia transformed.

"Are we gunna help?"

Ryan snorted. "No."