In the wake of losing his magic, Feyrith struggles to adapt and survive the new and constant onslaught from the feral jungle beasts, trying to keep himself as well as Sunwood alive. Something unnatural has disturbed the beasts and though it's danger...
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Feyrith couldn't stop thinking about what he'd felt back near the jungle. That strange tremor that had disturbed the beasts within it. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain it was likely magical in nature, but what was he meant to do with that knowledge? They couldn't march into the jungle looking for the origin of this phenomenon. They didn't even know if this truly was what was causing the beasts to attack Sunwood so often.
Feyrith once more cursed his lack of magic. He could be so much more helpful to these humans. Perhaps not helpful enough to venture into the jungle and live, but certainly more helpful than he was now. He drew a sharp breath as he felt his eyes start to sting. Even though he currently sitting on the bed in Edwyr's house and therefore had enough privacy, he still refused to do something as unbecoming of an elf as crying.
He had better things to do than wallow in his misery. Like trying to find out what was going on and how to stop it. He wasn't sure where to even start, but after the way Arbane and Lanna had handled themselves helping him get to the mountain ruins, he knew that humans tended to surprise him, so perhaps together they could figure it out. The fact that he, an elf, was hoping that humans would fix a problem for him was rather shameful, but right now he was barely more physically competent than them.
Brought out of his thoughts by a sudden commotion outside, Feyrith jumped off the bed, grabbing his bow and arrows, which he'd left by the door, and rushing out of the house. He'd been hoping that tonight there would be no attack, but it seemed the beasts had other plans.
But as he ran outside and took a quick look around to see which animal was attacking them and where, he stopped as he realized that no one was on high alert. Many humans were gathered close to the gate, but the raised voices he'd heard didn't seem alarmed. At least not the usual kind of alarmed.
Feyrith walked toward them, passing a few humans who seemed to have decided to stay back, not letting his guard down until he could be sure that there was no danger.
And finally, he noticed what seemed to be some newcomers. At least he'd never seen these humans before, and it wasn't often that humans traveled due to how dangerous the land outside of towns and villages was. But these humans seemed haggard and injured. Feyrith could see that even in the dark, the human's blood-soaked clothing and splatters of blood, dirt, or both on their faces and hands.
"The beasts that attacked us were fast," the woman in the front of the group of newcomers said, her voice exhausted and pained. "Faster than any we've ever seen. We could barely catch a glimpse of them before they attacked. We're the only ones who survived." She hung her head. "Our village is...gone."
Feyrith watched as the humans of Sunwood ushered the newcomers in, voices overlapping, leading them in the direction of the local healer, or at least Feyrith assumed that was the case. They did look like they needed healing, which made Feyrith's guilt rise, but there was very little he could do. He could perhaps heal the scrapes of one of them and then be too exhausted to do anything else.
