The White Ghost of Hart's Cove

16

.^^ Average Druidic Sigil ^^

— Teilin —

Joanne stepped closer to me cautiously. "Teilin? Are you... all there?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm a little tired, yeah... but not crazy."

She let out a heavy breath. "Oh thank Hel... you realize you're glowing, right? Like... demonically."

I blinked and looked at my skin, seeing nothing out of ordinary, until I shifted my eyesight, and looked at my aura. Blood red aura filled my view, stretching about thirty feet away from me in all directions, and the reason for Joanne's fear became abundantly clear.

I sighed and reigned it in as best I could, then cracked my neck. "Sorry about that. Didn't think about it. Where's Gwynn?"

She snorted and shot a thumb over her shoulder, sitting next to me. "Feasting, like all the rest of the Beasts. You unleashed a lot of hidden things, you know. Hibernating bears, giant rabbits, more deer than I've ever seen..."

"You're leading up to something, but my give-a-fuck is broke. Spit it out." I said dryly.

"What happened?" She asked.

"The Mages were being slowly eaten by a Sacred Mangrove, twisted by a group of Silent Sect Druids, it looks like. A Druid, the last of his family, was attacking them and giving them to the tree. I fought him a bit, but the tree, which is sentient, realized I was not only stronger, but simply a better magic user... so it transferred its Sigils to me. I still can't read them, but I'll figure it out." I sighed.

She blinked slowly. "Oh-......-Kay? What now?"

"What about it? I go back to work, you give me those animals I asked you to get for Gwynn, and that's the end of it. Threat ended. My Day's work has been accomplished." I shrugged, and stood, dusting myself off.

She yelped, covering her eyes, and I blinked, looking down, and covered myself quickly. The tree had eaten away at more than my boots.

One of the riders nearby, watching their beasts hunt, laughed and threw me a pair of oversized leather overalls, which would have to do. I nodded my thanks, and slipped into them, tying my belt to get them to stay on, as I refused to wear the shoulder straps.

As I was walking towards Gwynn, a collection of spirits, the ones who'd been around the young Druid, started buzzing around me.

I sighed and altered my bag, once more. Now the auditorium, which housed Gwynn's stuff, (collected by the thieving bird in his 8 months of existence,) was a Meadow, complete with little stick figurines they could inhabit, though they were confined to the auditorium. The craggy walls stayed, though, for Gwynn's enjoyment.

The spirits swam into the opening, joyously praising me for being so kind as to host them. I snickered at the double entendre, and made sure to enable several dozen layers of protection against spiritual influence in my mind, and Gwynn's, as well.

He perked his head up, a few hundred yards away. "What was that?" He chirped.

"Protection from spiritual influence. Now enjoy." I waved at him.

He needed no encouragement to devour several dozen deer, boars, and even a turtle or two big enough to catch his interest. The other beasts were wary of stealing from him, but also hungry, so they stole and fought over the rest of the food.

Their riders and handlers seemed to think this was healthy, because it got all their aggression out in a controlled situation. I respected their wisdom, because it seemed a lot like raising a child, to me, and I didn't see any red flags, yet. Kleptomania was one thing, but at least Gwynn returned the things he stole... Sometimes.