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When Juto and Jitsu had listened and learned the whole Slasher story, down to the details of his death, PK sent them out with Rhodes.

Jitsu wasn’t too sure about the sneasel yet. He seemed all right, and chose the best paths out into the Creeping Forest. But Jitsu was also pretty sure that the death of his old boss still weighed on Rhodes—whether it was his fault or not.

Juto stomped along beside him, sniffing the air with his pig-like snout. “So we are meant to fend off any rogues on this mission?”

The mankey and pansear skittered along through the snow behind Rhodes, rarely exchanging words with him. “Let’s hope we don’t have to,” answered Jitsu. “But yeah, if need be. That’s what Master PK said anyway.”

“I almost yearn for it.” Juto cracked his big, primal knuckles.

“Yeah, well don’t get too excited. I doubt we’ll see anyone out there.” Jitsu shook his head, always alarmed at how much Juto loved getting into mischief and danger. It wasn't healthy, and it could wind up with him dead.

The day wore on, cold, as it had been ever since the dragon showed up. At least in the forest, beneath the dark canopy of trees, the snows kept from the ground for the most part. It was only in the widest of clearings that it piled up, but that didn't mean everything wasn't moist and freezing.

Eventually, Rhodes halted them for the night. “This should do right here. We’re getting closer to our regular stomping grounds. It’s really only a matter of time before some of the young ones turn up.”

Jitsu wondered if they'd see any of the sneasel gang tonight. They certainly liked the darkness. There was no way he was going to trust them though, even with Rhodes with them. Someone would have to keep watch.

Juto turned to Jitsu. “Fire?”

“Yep. I’ll take care of it.” Jitsu nodded and rubbed his belly. “But you’re gathering wood. And you’re giving me that persim berry you found.”

Juto grunted a primal squeal. “Fine.”

* * * *

It wasn’t long before they’d made camp and were gathered around the fire. They roasted berries over the flames while their scents carried themselves into the still and ominous air. Jitsu hoped it wouldn't attract any unwanted visitors.

Rhodes stood, warming his paws over the fire. “So where’d you two come from?”

“Oh, a long ways from here.” Jitsu tested the firmness of his persim berry, keeping his eyes on his fruit.

“My friend does not particularly enjoy discussing what happened before we came to this village,” said Juto, cracking his big knuckles again. The habbit made Jitsu cringe.

Rhodes touched his scarred cheek. “I get that.”

Jitsu wondered where the claw marks had come from, but said nothing.

“I have no qualms about telling you though!” Juto grunted. “We haven’t been here too long. Before that though, our old guild prospered. We were good at our job. That was until…” he paused, scratching in the ground
in front of where he sat. “Until the whole guild was slain.”

“They can’t all have died.” Jitsu cut in sharply. “There’s gotta be some of them left… somewhere.”

“True,” Juto looked at him apologetically. “We hope to find some of them one day.”

Rhodes rubbed his hands again. “I suppose that’s a bit like me. I hope some of the gang’s around. Only, it was only our boss who was killed.”

Juto stood up, “It was OUR boss’s fault they were all killed. The old fool.”

Jitsu watched as Juto stalked off towards the edge of camp and started to climb a tree. Sure, he said he was fine talking about it, but it was always like this. It stirred bad feelings in Juto, just as much as it did for Jitsu.

“Where’s he going?” Rhodes’ gleaming eyes followed after the mankey.

“Someone’s gotta take first lookout.”

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Description
When Juto and Jitsu had listened and learned the whole Slasher story, down to the details of his death, PK sent them out with Rhodes.

Jitsu wasn’t too sure about the sneasel yet. He seemed all right, and chose the best paths out into the Creeping Forest. But Jitsu was also pretty sure that the death of his old boss still weighed on Rhodes—whether it was his fault or not.

Juto stomped along beside him, sniffing the air with his pig-like snout. “So we are meant to fend off any rogues on this mission?”

The mankey and pansear skittered along through the snow behind Rhodes, rarely exchanging words with him. “Let’s hope we don’t have to,” answered Jitsu. “But yeah, if need be. That’s what Master PK said anyway.”

“I almost yearn for it.” Juto cracked his big, primal knuckles.

“Yeah, well don’t get too excited. I doubt we’ll see anyone out there.” Jitsu shook his head, always alarmed at how much Juto loved getting into mischief and danger. It wasn't healthy, and it could wind up with him dead.

The day wore on, cold, as it had been ever since the dragon showed up. At least in the forest, beneath the dark canopy of trees, the snows kept from the ground for the most part. It was only in the widest of clearings that it piled up, but that didn't mean everything wasn't moist and freezing.

Eventually, Rhodes halted them for the night. “This should do right here. We’re getting closer to our regular stomping grounds. It’s really only a matter of time before some of the young ones turn up.”

Jitsu wondered if they'd see any of the sneasel gang tonight. They certainly liked the darkness. There was no way he was going to trust them though, even with Rhodes with them. Someone would have to keep watch.

Juto turned to Jitsu. “Fire?”

“Yep. I’ll take care of it.” Jitsu nodded and rubbed his belly. “But you’re gathering wood. And you’re giving me that persim berry you found.”

Juto grunted a primal squeal. “Fine.”

* * * *

It wasn’t long before they’d made camp and were gathered around the fire. They roasted berries over the flames while their scents carried themselves into the still and ominous air. Jitsu hoped it wouldn't attract any unwanted visitors.

Rhodes stood, warming his paws over the fire. “So where’d you two come from?”

“Oh, a long ways from here.” Jitsu tested the firmness of his persim berry, keeping his eyes on his fruit.

“My friend does not particularly enjoy discussing what happened before we came to this village,” said Juto, cracking his big knuckles again. The habbit made Jitsu cringe.

Rhodes touched his scarred cheek. “I get that.”

Jitsu wondered where the claw marks had come from, but said nothing.

“I have no qualms about telling you though!” Juto grunted. “We haven’t been here too long. Before that though, our old guild prospered. We were good at our job. That was until…” he paused, scratching in the ground
in front of where he sat. “Until the whole guild was slain.”

“They can’t all have died.” Jitsu cut in sharply. “There’s gotta be some of them left… somewhere.”

“True,” Juto looked at him apologetically. “We hope to find some of them one day.”

Rhodes rubbed his hands again. “I suppose that’s a bit like me. I hope some of the gang’s around. Only, it was only our boss who was killed.”

Juto stood up, “It was OUR boss’s fault they were all killed. The old fool.”

Jitsu watched as Juto stalked off towards the edge of camp and started to climb a tree. Sure, he said he was fine talking about it, but it was always like this. It stirred bad feelings in Juto, just as much as it did for Jitsu.

“Where’s he going?” Rhodes’ gleaming eyes followed after the mankey.

“Someone’s gotta take first lookout.”

Previous Part: [link]
Next Part: [link]

App Link:
[link]