For a stretch of time only the air breathed in form of a cool breeze. The quiet came as quick as it left before a frightening rumble coursed through the ground. Megan squeezed Sue’s hand as both tried to keep balance. Crow and the one to his side, to Sue’s surprise stood unfazed. He watched the young women as the fear they hid so well stretched it’s limbs. "Take them and leave," Astral instructed.

Crow turned to him with a slightly unprepared look. "We don't have time to argue," Astral said as a slick accent emerged within the serene command. It was powerful, yet rhythmic to the ear, smooth but sharp, like a well sung hum. This was the first Susan had ever heard such way of tongue, and quickly she recognized how attracted she was to the way of word. Crow eyed Astral. Like he wanted to speak words that could not be said aloud. In return, Crow nodded without response, as if he could hear his other’s unspoken thoughts. "Save your strength, fool. The boy will be fine," Astral confirmed as the accent began to fade.

Crow nodded again, shutting his eyes and breathing through his nose. Astral glanced at the little ones with a smile. But before speaking his eyes widened and fled to the ground. Crow mimicked the act. "Fog ..." whispered Crow. "What's wrong with that?" Sue finally uttered. Taking a step back, he watched the ground disappear and be replaced with a thick cloud. Crow swiftly grabbed Sue and Megan by the hand. "Where should we meet?"

"East or west, it does not matter, we will find you." Crow’s lack of approval was evident by the look in his grey eyes. But there was no need for Astral to clarify. Both felt their presence immediately, and with it a stench that grew more potent by the second. One unfamiliar to Megan and Sue. But to the other two, it was well known indeed. A cloaking spell too weak to mask the true odor, and because so the two started to twist and mend into one. Regardless of the intended sense, and what it became, what was clear and unmistakable was that it’s origin was the smell of blood. Which usually held no whiff, but in large quantities and time, that thought was easily laid to rest.

The girls covered their noses with disgust. The failure handing Crow memories of another time. It was the kind of smell that could twist the pit in knots. Ready to wring out lunch and dinner from the day before. Gradually the girls aimed their eyes upon the two in-front of them. Breathing in the tainted air like a welcomed fragrance. Astral lowered his view to the running fountain. "Go. I won't say it again."

"Wait, wait!" Megan and Sue yelled as both rushed to wrap their arms around the youngest of the group, and did so as tight as they could. "Don't you die," Sue said under her breath. The girl was shit at holding back tears. Probably didn't even know why they filled her eyes. "Never that," Astral replied. His hands rolling through their cloudy white and ruby hair. Megan stared forward. Quiet. "Take care of Crow," Astral said. "Always," the sobbing girl replied. Without warning hands pressed both the girl’s shoulders, shoving the two in Crow's arms, and by the time Sue’s arm extended and Megan’s sight returned ahead, the image of Astral’s turning back was replaced with ab abundant amount of trees and long faded grass surrounding a dirt road. "W-what?" Susan whispered. Both her and Megan’s heads jumping left and right, trying to understand what just happened.

•

With slow steps four images appeared within the fog, each from different directions. Two were large, abnormally so compared to the average man, the third more so the norm, the fourth slim, less then half the three others. North, east, south, and west they came, each deigning a variation of the same uniform aside from one.

Two wore the face of a fox, one with horns and skin that leaned more crimson then autumn like the second. The third a wolf with gleaming yellow eyes. Both foxes' chest laid bare with straps across muscles and skin, the only thing close to armor worn was the leather padding upon their forearms and shoulders which blend well with their black torn bottoms and padded knees while the wolf’s leather stretched across torso to shoulder, fitted like a poor plate of steel above torn bottoms and still adorn padding on forearms and knee.

There was a handful of irony in the sight, thought Astral as he watched the intruders glide through the fog. How little armor they wore to inspire fearlessness, yet not a inch of skin revealed above the neck for their victims or enemies. How convincing it was. Each neared the fountain. Like the attire, all but last varied in weaponry. The first fox walked with a blade almost as thin as a needle low in hand, the second two axes sitting hip-level. The wolf two with limbs of silver upon back, fine blades no question. Even in the fog they blinked with quality and edge. One of the three’s utensils had already been painted by the flamboyant odor. A blossoming red ran up and down the fox’s blade. The other two stood empty handed, their weapons waiting with patience for their inevitable call. The fourth … It did not take long to learn the last was detached from the others. Instead of a face of nature a mask was worn, with long black hair draped behind. Instead of skin or leather, a coat the shade of night reached ankles. Something about this one rubbed Astral differently from the rest. This one was much more convincing. Likely outside aid.

The water from the fountain swayed into the background when voices appeared. A detail he noticed as his hands continued to rest in his pockets. It has been a long time since he’d found himself in such a predicament. Too long. Surrounded, with no allies on the way. One of their heads turned to the side awkwardly.

"He is different," spoke the wolf.

"Quarry?" asked the autumn fox.

"It is likely," said the first.

"Then why destroy the village?"

"It matters not," the crimson face intervened.

All spoke but the fourth, who seemed to be just as observant as Astral. Beneath the mask eyes wandered up and down him. He could not see the pupils, but he did feel them. Their voices were dark and hollow, as real as their faces made from the dead. The slim one raised a gloved hand to where a chin would sit beneath the mask.

"Boy, why are you the only thing alive in this village?" Like the others, the fourth hid their voice. Astral closed his eyes, his body language must have told them he was far too comfortable in the thick of fog by the ever growing tension holding down the air. "Because It is woven," the boy said with a snap of his fingers. One by one they faded, each building of stone, the farms, the sleeping smiles, the animals, every oak tree and healthy cut grass, all vanished, an entire world in the blink of an eye. A few of the intruder’s heads slowly turned. Close to nothing remained of the once prideful village. Only the decaying grass they each now stand upon and the fog that had somehow thickened, cloaking the isolated area. Once more, allowing silence to reign as king.