Starting An End

"What time do you call this?"
"Enough time to get moving, if you shut up."
He did.
So anyway, where was I?

Ah, yes. First of all, Virra. Leaving Samuel open-mouthed, I made my way to Virra's tent, opened the flap, and peeked in. There she was, hunched over, and sobbing. I gulped. I hadn't anticipated that recounting her experiences would have had this effect on her. I crept inside , and sat down beside her. I then placed my arm around her. No words were spoken. I smiled. Gradually the sobs died down. She smiled. Still no words were spoken, but a feeling gradually grew between us that all was forgiven - me for actually asking her to relive the experience that had so traumatised her, and Virra for storming off afterwards. A possible tear was shed. The moment faded. Virra sat up, and set her shoulders back. She was going to have to be strong to become a mother. I left, wordlessly. Job done.

Next, Kieran. I recovered composure ("heartless" hunters are allowed to have an emotional moment now and then) and entered my tent. I started, as I realised this was was probably going to be the last time that I was to do so for a long while. I looked round. Homely was the word that sprung to mind (well, what do you expect?). The things I took for granted, small things, came to the forefront of my mind. The skin of my first large kill (a bear, for your information) draped accross the bed that provided that extra bit of warmth in the really cold nights. The bows that I had grown out of, each with its own few memories. Buttons, who had noticed my entrance, and leapt off the bed to greet me, rubbing his head on my legs. Part of me wanted to take him with us, but it wasn't going to be viable. He'd be slain as soon as we entered the city. So my thoughts turned to Kieran, who would obviously be the best choice to look after him while I was gone. He was a good companion, a gods hunter, a good friend. And standing in the corner of the room.

All credit given to his hiding skills, but the main reason I gave a (small) scream when he pulled me into a hug was because I hadn't noticed him. However, it was only moments before I reciprocated it. We then broke apart. I then punched him (not too hard). He knew what it was for.
"Scared?" he asked.
"Never." He raised an eyebrow. "But nervous." That one word: nervous. I embodied it. I hadn't admitted it to myself yet, but I was nervous, nervous because I was stepping out into the unknown, because I was worried about leaving the clan, because I didn't want to leave... Because I was scared that I wouldn't return. Because if this... this megalomaniac Samuel talked about was as mad as his plans said about him, he'd have no qualms about getting rid of two small obstacles in the form of a novice mage and an elf. I sighed. "Okay, maybe I am a bit scared. And extremely nervous."
"It's alright," came the reply "everyone is allowed to be frightened once in a while. I mean, most elves in the clan are scared of you, and that's before they've been on a hunting trip with you."
I smiled.
"They're not, are they?"
"My friends are. And that is most elves in the clan. The group that jumped you this morning were only persuaded over copious amounts of spirit last night, and that was after I had to treat them to a slap up meal using one of my biggest kills of the year. So consider yourself special that I had to go to that much effort to get a couple of guys to hold you down."
"I'm not THAT scary, Kieran." I stared at him, mock-serious.
"Oh I think you are."
We stared at each other. And then burst out laughing.