How Not to Poach a Unicorn

Seven

Dawn came slowly in the dense forest. The heavy cloud cover had cleared overnight but the sunlight was slow to bleed through the thick canopy. It fell in drops between the leaves and gradually pooled at the mouth of the cave. Whatever breeze there might have been above the trees was completely absorbed by the forest.

The group slept soundly through much of the morning. Though they had made their beds of rocks, their bodies reveled in the meager sense of security that their little cave had offered. Every one of them slept soundly through the night and woke slowly-all but two, that is.

One didn't wake at all. Kazé still showed no signs of regaining consciousness. His breathing, however, had deepened. He appeared to be resting rather than clinging to life. The other snuck out in the first light of dawn.

Prag woke up feeling well rested. He was, as usual, the first to wake up. He rarely slept past dawn and his finely honed instincts would wake him if there was the slightest movement near him. Knowing that the others likely wouldn't be up for hours unless he woke them, he stepped outside to relieve himself and then inspected his sleeping company. He was horrified by what he saw. Not only was he not the first awake, but somehow the clumsy idiot-boy had managed to wake up and move past him without his knowing. His blanket was empty and he was nowhere to be seen.

Prag stepped back out of the cave and realized that the sun had already climbed high in the sky. It was probably halfway to noon. He cursed himself for sleeping so late and dashed out of the cave in search of the boy. He said a quick prayer to an imagined patron deity of dumb luck that the kid hadn't yet given away their position.

The veteran mercenary moved like a serpent through the forest. He flowed between the bushes and trees, barely disturbing a leaf. He found the boy's trail easily and followed the bent blades of grass, displaced twigs and three inch deep tracks to a small clearing.

He approached, sword drawn... and stopped. He sat and watched for several minutes before he turned his blade on a quiet footstep from behind him.

He found the tip of his blade at the throat of a dark skinned woman with long wavy brown hair and very distracting cleavage. "Sorry to startle you" whispered Kish, who was finishing buttoning her heavy green riding jacket.

Prag was again impressed by the woman. She had managed to get almost within striking distance of him before he heard her approach. What's more she had managed to arm herself and tack him without him noticing. More still, she had barely reacted to having a sword drawn on her. "Have a look at this." He said with a bemused grin.

They both stared out again into the small clearing.

"What's he doing?" Asked Kish, baffled.

"I think he's practicing."

"Practicing what?"

"Walking. He's learning to walk." Prag concluded.

They both continued to watch the bizarre spectacle that the boy was putting on. He would use a tree at the side of the clearing to balance. Then he would walk unsteadily to another one at the far side of the clearing. He repeated this again and again, all the while grinning stupidly.

Prag stepped out into the clearing and the boy stopped. He turned and beamed at Prag and promptly fell gracelessly onto his face. Apparently, he had not yet mastered the art of standing.

After some extensive explanations and frantic gestures, Prag managed to get across that he wanted the kid to come back with them to them to the cave.

The trip back was not even comparably stealthy as the journey to the clearing. Prag continued to slither silently between the trees and Kish moved through the underbrush like a jungle cat on the prowl. The kid, however, insisted on walking which was a noisy and awkward endeavor and Prag was certain the idiot had managed to find every dry twig in the forest to step on. It baffled him how the clumsy twit had managed to sneak out in the first place. He was even starting to think that the boy was somehow hustling them.