A Forest On Fire

Someone's Let The Dogs Loose

It took Elliot a few moments to realize that she was awake, and, then, even longer to realize that she had fainted. Lydia was looming over her; her face was contorted with emotion, and her hair was riotously disheveled. She was breathing heavily and bleeding in several places. "Merlin!" Elliot called out. She sat up on her elbow, pushing Lydia away from her.

"Governor?" His voice was frayed with anxiety. He was bent over Maribelle, who laid motionless on the floor.

"Save him!" She ordered, pointing toward the bartender which Merlin himself had shot.

Merlin looked at him from behind his shoulder. "But M-Maribelle?" He stopped, hesitating terribly.

"Blackwater, take care of Maribelle," The Governor barked, roughly shoving her away. She tremulously got to her feet like a newborn calf learning how to walk.

"Uh-uh," came a quiet, timid, stuttering noise from behind them.

The girl was clutching the little boy in her muscular arms and was harshly pressed up against the wall, as if doing so would protect them. She looked petrified, and the boy was in her lap, clinging onto her shoulders and burying his face in her chest. Elliot stared at them and had no clue as to what to say. The girl, too, seemed unable to speak. Lydia and Merlin were both preoccupied with caring for Maribelle and the bartender respectively. The telé was mostly motionless, except for the occasional moan or twitch. "Do you know these people?" was the first thing Elliot thought to ask.

"N-no, I-I- only the bartender, but barely," the girl managed. "His name is- is- Isaac Koppel. But- I- you- how did he-why?" She stumbled over her words.

"It's- Well, it's private official business. You would be well to leave."

She nodded swiftly, and she left hurriedly. Elliot watched them go; Lydia looked disapproving. She looked down at her shoulder, which had been bound, theoretically, by Lydia. The man was darkly muttering something to Merlin, who, in turn, was completely ignoring him and rather begrudgingly tending to his wound with the limited supplies he had brought in his umbrella-bag. Lydia looked helpless over Maribelle, and it would not have been far-fetched to suppose that she was purposefully doing as little as she could.

"Governor, I believe that we should search for help soon," Lydia advised. "Maribelle is in a most unfortunate state."

"And tell them what? She was attacked by a telé when we were interrogating a bartender for the whereabouts of a dead man who may or may not have murdered his lover?" Elliot growled, agitated more by her pain than the situation.

Lydia smiled warmly. "I see, Governor. But what about Mr. Volleh?"

The Governor knew Lydia would say something along those lines, but she wasn't sure how to address it. "Alright," she began slowly, thinking. "I'm trusting you, Blackwater." Elliot gave her a severe look. "Take her and find someone who's willing to help, but do not tell them where we are from or what we are doing here. Understand?"

Lydia stood and nodded. "Completely."

She then hoisted Maribelle onto her shoulders with difficulty, although Elliot knew she might have been faking it to fit in an out-of-place satirical performance. Maribelle, was, after all, quite a bit heavier than Lydia, but Lydia had more than enough strength to carry two men. The noblewoman's blood coated the skin on her face and the back of her neck and caked her hair together like water, but she did not seem to mind; in fact, she seemed as cheery as ever, and, as she stuck her hand out toward the door to make way, she turned to Elliot with a broad smile plastered on her blood-soused face and called out with a giddy laugh, "Aur vwéna, nitt liere!"

And they both disappeared.

Elliot moved over toward the telé. It huffed and growled at the sight of her. She looked at the creature's body and observed the cuts and bites that Lydia had inflicted upon the monster. She looked to the right and saw that Lydia had left Maribelle's rifle behind. She hobbled over to it and picked up the long, wooden object. Elliot found it to be surprisingly light. There was a moan and a scuttling noise from behind her, and, when she turned, the beast launched itself toward her with all of the strength it had left, baring its yellow teeth and its chipped claws.