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The Weeping Monk's jaw visibly clenches while he's in a state of bewilderment. But it left just as soon as it came, and his blood stained hands launched for the younger boy. His arm locked around Squirrel's throat, the monk's piercing eyes flitting between the boy and Alida. He'd only just laid eyes on her, but she was Fey and he knew she wouldn't just leave the boy behind unless she was truly selfish. "Squirrel!" Alida shouted, panic written among her features. "Let him go, you beast!" She shouts, eyes stone cold as they rest upon the monk. "I'm going to ask you two some questions," he said, roughly readjusting his grip on Squirrel. "You are going to answer them," he adds, pointing at Alida. "If you lie, I will know it. And I will hurt you."
"How many of you escaped?" Was the first question that slipped past the monk's lips. There was a new rage filling Alida's chest to the brim while she was forced to glue her feet in place. She wasn't skilled in combat. Alida had no choice but to cooperate. Though, the words that flew past her lips came from the heart rather than her mind. "Why? So you can kill more innocent Fey? You're nothing but a coward! I'm not going to help you kill my kind!" she argues, hands balling into tense fists. So strong was the urge to take the monk's sword and drive it through his wretched heart.
"Alright then," he mutters. In the blink of an eye, Squirrel's shoulder was pushed roughly into the rock they were previously hiding behind. Alida could see how much force had been put onto Squirrel's shoulder, and her breath quickened. "I'm not going to ask again. How many Fey escaped?" he asked, the volume of his voice rising. Alida hesitated. When the monk saw this, he took his free hand and reached for the hilt of his sword. He cocked a brow at her, silently questioning her on if she was willing to let the boy die. "We don't have to you scum!" Squirrel yelled, spitting on the man before him. He began unsheathing his sword, but before he could harm Squirrel further, Alida spoke up. "I don't know! I saw some running into the Iron Wood!" She felt sick at the betrayal she committed, but she was not going to let Squirrel die. "How many?" He asked quickly. "I don't know," she said solemnly. He began to raise his sword. "I don't know! I swear!"
"It was enough to kill you," Squirrel said, scowling at the monk. With a grunt, the monk moves his grip to Squirrel's wrist, and Alida releases a breath of relief which she had unknowingly withheld. However, before she could notice, the monk had gripped onto the roots of her hair, undoubtedly pulling a few strands from her scalp in the process. She yelped, features contorting into an expression of pain. He mercilessly bound their wrists with rope, tying them to his trusty steed before mounting the saddle. With a simple yank on the reins, Squirrel and Alida were dragged onwards involuntarily.
Alida's lips were stuck in a thin line as Squirrel ranted with useless inquiries that were really just insults. The monk showed no reaction or intention of responding. "Where are we going?" the young boy whines. Alida adjusts her wrists, wincing as the rope burns her flesh. It had become irritated and swollen, only making it more difficult for her to escape. "What do you want with us?" No reply. "I know about you, you know. The one who cries. The Weeping Monk." Alida had heard of the name many times before. Stories told by her mother due to their shared trait. She'd heard about it so often, yet it still astonished her to see the ashy tears upon another's skin before her.
