~Mirandiona💎

It took us a little under a week to reach the front and spread out to support the advancing line. As days trickled past the guards from every region across Skyris flew in and joined the steadily amounting army that was slowly but surely pushing into the rebel's territory.

So far the fighting had been kept largely away from where Serana and I were commanding, but reports showed that the rebel forces were shifting in our direction. Whether it was because of our presence or the rumor that Avar was with us as a nearby hostage was unclear. Either way, the armor Gabria forged for us would be battle tested before the week was out.

Summer was bleeding in as the days grew longer and the temperatures each day climbed to a hight I was unaccustomed to dealing with. The thicker air was another thing, while slightly nauseating at first I noticed I could do almost twice as much without feeling as winded or light headed. Serana for her part was doing much better with the temperature and didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the heat.

Kicking a discarded black and red feather out of the tent, I scowl at my partner. "How are you not dying in your armor, while sitting in the sun?" I grumble, stepping outside to join the other woman as she fletched arrows using our molten feathers as well as the guards'.

Serana chuckles but doesn't look up as I take a seat next to her on the small step of rock that dropped down half a wingspan from the front of our tent. "It's barely mid spring, the heat hasn't even really started yet, trust me it gets much warmer." I spy the passing glint of white teeth just as a rock shifts to hide the sun. "Besides, if I can handle an Algriean winter, I'm sure you can handle a Mounts summer." Orange eyes shoot me a teasing look from the corner of her eye.

I huff and allow my wings to fan out behind the both of us. "It's arguably easier to get and stay warm than it is to cool off." I grumble, picking up an arrow fletched with my feathers.

Serana huffs in amusement and continues with her work. "I'm sure you'll feel much better once your winter coat comes off." She assures tossing another finished arrow onto her pile. "Go take a bath." The other woman looks up enough to nod in the direction of the stream that bordered one side of the makeshift camp. "The moving water should help pull the rest of your coat off."

Following the direction of her nod, I look to see several of the guard doing just that in the deeper waters at the stream's bend. Letting out a sigh I toss the arrow in my hands back onto the pile and slide off the small cliff and into a low glide.

Banking around a few trees I make my way to a clear area of the bank. Landing in a short skid on the muddy shore, I scowl in displeasure at the sensation of it squishing between my toes. Turning my attention to the surrounding area I see a tree with several low hanging branches, where the guards have strung up the cloth parts of there uniforms. Picking my way toward the tree I pass by a few of the guards heading for the water.

"Trying to strip the last of your winter coat too, your majesty?" One of them calls out with a friendly smile.

She sounds young. Certainly a new recruit. I note as I exaggeratedly roll my eyes. "I was told to. Apparently my complaints about the heat were getting old." I joke with the barest hint of a smile.

The three guards laugh and present loose salutes as they pass. A small smile remained at the corners of my lips as I make it to the tree and strip out of the thin shorts and top I'd been wearing in a vain attempt to combat the heat.

Heaving an only slightly disgruntled sigh at having to bathe in the, not quite sanitary, water of the Skyris country; I make my way over to the small cliff at the stream's edge. I was not above admitting that I was beyond pampered my entire life, but I also knew enough about biology and bacteria in particular to know that unsanitized water was disgusting.

Steeling my nerves, and pushing down thoughts of plague riddled water sources, I take a running leap off the cliff. There were at least ten guards within a wing's length of the cliff and all of them were treated to an almighty splash as I flipped mid air to land on half spread wings. Intentionally creating a wave large enough to go over their heads.

Before I become submerged I can hear the start of alarmed screeching. The noise is quickly replaced by the sound of water being chopped as my head dips below the surface. Righting myself, I plant my feet on the sandy stream bed and poke my head out of the water just far enough to hear and breathe through my nose.

"Who did that?!" A rather large woman with pale yellow wings is shouting as she whirls around looking for the culprit.

Another man a little closer to me on my right with dark brown wings motions toward me while giving her a blank glare. "I believe her majesty has just graced us with her presence."

The woman whirls around just in time to see me stand up at full hight. There is a beat of silence as all the guards in the immediate area seem to hold their breaths in anticipation. Glancing around at the small audience, and my subsequent victims, I shrug as innocently as I can. "There was no other way I was talking myself into this water." I defend.

A few of the guards laugh and one even sends a small splash in my direction before they return to bathing and removing the coat of tiny feathers stubbornly clinging to their skin. All except for one who decided to sneak up behind me and shove my head back under the water.

Flailing at the sudden attack I throw a sword hilt into my attackers side and resurface with a fury. Turning my glare to the person behind me I find laughing green eyes and a familiar gap toothed smile. "Fyko!" I shout shoving the man away as I fight to lower my heart rate. "Skies alight, you scared the daylight out of me!" I reprimand with my hardest glare leveled at him.

He simply shakes his head with a deep throaty chuckle as he comes back to float a couple feet away. "You kinda deserved it." He defends with a crooked grin.

I couldn't really argue that point so I settled for rolling my eyes and turn my back to him. "Since you're here would you mind helping me get my coat off? I can get most of it myself but between the wingblades is always too difficult to reach." I ask already starting on my shoulders and arms.

Fyko doesn't respond with words but instead large callused hands gently press into my upper back and start stroking with my feathers to tease them loose. "If you wouldn't mind, I could use a bit of help with that too actually." He intones softly.

I hum my agreement but otherwise ignore him in favor of listening to the surrounding guards. A few were laughing and splashing about while others floated and chatted pleasantly creating a calm and serene atmosphere.

"I'll get your back." A voice from my left draws both mine and Fyko's attention. Treale was gliding toward us, Myka nowhere in sight. He must have left her with one of the commanders. I conclude, returning to my ministrations.

"Aye, that would be appreciated." Fyko says all friendly smiles and upbeat personality.

I absently listen as Treale stands up and begins to wash Fyko's back. "Where's Serana?" The Mounts. man calls over Fyko's shoulder fully bringing my attention to him.

Glancing at him over my wing, I nod in the direction of our tent. "Fletching arrows back at our tent."

He nods and continues scrubbing off Fyko's winter coat with strong even strokes, much rougher than the why Fyko was going about it. The older man didn't seem to mind too much as he leaned back into Treale's touch, almost completely stopping any other motion.

Chuckling under my breath I flick my wing just enough to hit Fyko's hand and get his attention. When green eyes dart up to meet mine I give him a conspiratorial smirk and raise a brow almost in question.

A crimson flush takes over the other Algriean as he corrects his posture. "Shut it." He hisses just low enough Treale doesn't seem to quite catch what he says.

The poor man glances between me and Fyko for a moment before deciding whatever we were talking about wasn't worth the hassle.

"He's not exactly subtle is he?" A woman's voice has my head whipping around to face its owner. Resting low in the water just a few feet from me is Myka, her neck shackle snaking through the water to connect with a deep blue winged woman I recognized as Patio, Katal's archery commander.

Smiling as kindly as I can I shake my head. "No he's not."

Myka stands up fully, pulling Patio forward a little as she moved to get between me and Fyko. "Move over Fangless, you're not helping anyone with that glazed over expression." Turning enough that I can see the three of them I watch as Fyko shoots her a scowl and Treale grins so innocently he can't be anything but guilty.

I see the moment Fyko decides to try and dunk her under as he did to me. Spreading a wing between them I cut him off before he can even think about moving. "You're not dragging Patio under the water to get back at her." There was a definitive note of warning in my voice as I leveled a stern glare at the man.

Patio decides to come all the way over and join us at the mention of her name. "Please don't, I already don't want to be in this water."

Fyko deflates a little and settles for pouting petulantly.

"Aw, poor baby." Myka teases cupping his face and shaking it just enough to be annoying.

Fyko responds by growling and snatching her hands up by the wrists. "Would you stop doing that to me!" This only seems to amuse the green haired woman further as she throws her head back laughing.

Patio let's out a suffering sigh as we watch Treale scoop Myka up out of the water and onto his shoulder while wrangling Fyko under his other wing. "Now, now, let's all play nice children."

That earns him a scandalized look from Fyko and a scoff from Myka. "I'm older than both of you." The green winged woman points out, quickly backed up by Fyko.

"You're only 38 years older than me, and you are over a century younger than I am." He denotes Treale's age.

A small but strong hand lightly taps my wing, encouraging me to turn my back. Allowing Patio to continue where Fyko had left off, I resume my original task as well, making sure to keep an eye on the trio.

"When you chained her to both of them, did you think they would get along so well?" Patio asks quietly so as not to be overheard by the others.

A soft chuckle vibrates in my chest as I cast them a sidelong glance. "I had hoped Fyko would ease Myka's suspicion and get her to talk, he's very charismatic. And Treale is as loyal as they come, so I felt safe having him watch her when I needed Fyko for something else." I explain why I'd originally chosen the two men to safeguard the former rebel. "Fyko is less than subtle in his attractions toward people, even if he never intends to act on them. So I've known about his attraction to Myka from the moment he laid eyes on her, but his attraction to Treale was slower and she may have played a part in him realizing it. The other two I unfortunately don't know well enough to say for myself but Serana seems to think Treale is beyond the stars for both of them. What do you think?" I ask the commander.

A low huff hits my back just above where the water lapped at the bottom of my tertiaries. "I've been in the former rebel's company enough to say that she doesn't smile much outside of talking with the two of them, not genuinely anyways. She doesn't outright say it, but she seems to think rather highly of you and your partner. And the woman cannot play poker to save her coin purse so lying isn't her strong suit." The last comment is accompanied by a throaty laugh.

A surprised bark of laughter tumbles from my lips as well, as I begin to work on the patchy spots on my legs where the feathers stubbornly refused to molt. "Do you trust her to be unshackled?" I ask in a conversational tone.

The hands on my lower back and sides pause for a long moment, the commander seeming to have been taken off guard. I wait for her to process the question as I step away and maneuver behind her to start stripping the remains of her own winter coat.

Patio straightens up and relaxes her wings to make it easier, still opting to stay silent. I'm about halfway down her back and the trio of miscreants, one of which I considered a friend, finally stop playing long enough to actually clean up and help their molting along, by the time the commander speaks. "I do not know how much my opinion caries with you your majesty, but I trust that she has grown to care for people close to you, if nothing else she would stay and fight for them. I have overheard conversations she's had with Treale and Fyko, she has no immediate family left to speak of." Patio let's her statement speak for itself.

I hum in consideration as I work out the last of the half molten coat on her back. If the only people she cares for are on my side then she would fight for me because of them if for no other reason. Tapping the shorter woman's wing I wait for her to face me before giving my order. "Talk to Katal about this, if she agrees then unshackle her and give her armor and a weapon. Put her under the same captain as Treale. It will be good to keep her close to a friendly face and Fyko is a scout and a spy, not a guard."

Patio saluted crisply before glancing at the object of our conversation. Turning to look at her as well, I find her, Treale, and Fyko all lazily floating in the water with linked limbs to keep from floating down stream from one another. Shaking my head fondly at them I can't help but to smile at the scene. "Wait until you've handed her off to one of them. This is a conversation you and Katal should have in private." I warn, casting the group one last look before heading for the shore.

Wading past the bathing guards, I make my way back to the tree and grab my clothes. Shaking off as much water as I can, I slip back into my shorts and top and debate on where to head next. Serana's busy fletching arrows and she enjoys it. I tick off bothering her again. Katal might be doing something interesting, but I'd just end up telling her to get some rest and it'd either end in an argument or her worries overs Selina back in Algrie. Best not to worsen her mood. I mark out the general as well. Fyko's enjoying... I turn to look over my shoulder and find the three doing something in a circle around Patio that looked vaguely ritualistic, whaterever that is. All the battle plans and contingencies were already drawn up and ready to implement so there wasn't any work to do either. What else can I do?

A familiar screech draws my attention up into the branches of the tree. Ovah's looming black frame was perched on a thick branch several feet up and peering down at me. "Are you bored too?" I ask the gryph draped over the tree limb.

In response he clicks his beak and rests it atop his forepaws. "Aye, nothing much of interest to do in a field camp is there?" I ponder as if his response was confirmation that this camp became extraordinarily blasé after the first couple of nights. Wait, Patio mentioned poker playing. The guards must be playing with a deck of cards somewhere.

An idea began to form in my head as I pulled myself up onto the lowest branch of the nearby tree, that looked like it could support my weight. Leaping off I take to a glide just over the tops of the tents. Ovah falls in behind me as begin scanning the area for where the guards might be playing.

I search about two thirds of the camp before I find a large group of Lycans and Angelo alike in a small clearing pressed up against a steep cliff, secluding it from the rest of the camp. What are they up to?

Frowning a little at the odd gathering, I glide down and land on the trunk of a tree growing diagonally from the top of the cliff.

"Come on Anther!", "Is that all you've got?!", "Hurry, Echurasta!", "You can do it Echur!" The crowd was gathered around a female lycan and angelo that seemed to be performing some form of game with a rope. The angelo woman was on one side and the lycan was on the other, both pulling in opposite direction. There was a bright red cloth tied to the center of the rope dangling in the center of a circle no more than shoulder width in diameter drawn into the dirt. This must be a lycan sport.

The lycan heaved with an ear splitting snarl as she drew the ribbon to her side of the circle. The angelo stumbled but caught her heels in the ground just before the weighted tail of the cloth passed the line of the circle.

Letting out her own roar of effort, deep gray wings, with a swath of royal blue painting a wedge into the top of her primaries, flared out and gave two mighty beats pulling the cloth back to the center of the circle. Reaffirming her footing she continues to pull on the rope, inching the cloth toward her side of the ring.

Even at the distance I was, I could see the lycans lips drawing back in a snarl as she twisted and bore the pressure of the rope against her left shoulder. The angelo flared her wings again, but to no avail as the lycan began pulling the cloth across the circle like a prel dragging a cart over a bridge. Now that the lycan was walking forward, there was no chance for the angelo to win. Lycans were just too strong in comparison, not only did they have size to help them, but their bones weren't partially hollow for flight. Which gave them an immense weight advantage.

The lycan in question seemed pretty younge or was simply smaller than the rest so it was more of a fair match, but she was still more than the angelo could reasonably pull off her feet as she finished dragging the weight at the end of the cloth across the line.

Howls and cheers erupted as the lycans celebrated their kin's victory. The guard that had been her opponent landed and doubled over in exhaustion. The other angelo that had been watching seem to give her some form of congratulation for her admittedly impressive effort.

Ovah lets out an agitated screech at the commotion likely only wanting to make noise with the lycans. It's enough to draw the attention of a few lycans who look up to find us in our perch.

"Ah, another contestant? Would you like to participate in the lycan game of tug-a-war?" A medium sized black lycan male calls up.

The angelo that are gathered follow his line of sight and seem to shift a little nervously upon spotting me. The lycan doesn't know who I am. I realize as I spot a few of the guards trying to make their way to him.

One corner of my mouth lifts into a half smile as I allow my weight to draw my forward and drop into gentle glide. Landing just before the lycan who spoke, I spare a glance toward the approaching guards and flick my wing in a subtle order to stand back, one lycans not accustomed to dealing with angelo wouldn't notice.

"Whoa, you're bigger than I thought." He laughs good naturedly.

Taking it as the complement he intended it to be, I smile politely and flit my wings in a swift greeting. "As interesting as this game is to watch, the odds are a bit skewed in your favor. Wouldn't you agree?" I point out the obvious advantage a lycan has over an angelo in a test of brute strength.