The shopkeeper brings out what outfits she has. The selection is rather limited, as it's mostly leftover stock rather than something she keeps around in the summer. Fortunately, the clothing as enough give that each can be adjusted to its wearer fairly easily.
"Here you go," she pulls a compass from a case behind the counter and hands it off to Eirikr. "Hopefully it will keep you from getting lost out there."
Evelyn would wait until last at the store taking whatever furs where left over, she knew the cold seemed to have a lesser effect on her than most other people in her caravan so if she got poor quality it might not bother her as much. "You can pay me back when your book makes it big deal?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Tiferet nods as Tessaraea hands her the three vials. "Your generosity humbles me. I understand this implies a lot of trust you're willing to put into a stranger's endeavor. I promise it will not go unhonored, in coin and deed."
Still, it appears yet another boon is to be bestowed upon them – and a most precious and meaningful one at that. Knowing how much an ancestral weapon means to any Ulfen warrior, Tiferet bows deeply as she receives the sword from Yuln's hands. Gratitude between warriors is implied, not expressed, so she only speaks a few curt, ceremonial words as she unsheathes it and weighs it in her hand. "I shall return it drenched in our foes' blood. This Tiferet, daughter of Odin, swears." That said, she carefully puts it back into its scabbard before politely taking her leave.
***************************************************************************
It takes but a few steps for Tiferet and Nathara to reach the nearby temple. As the tall warrioress stops to greet the priest, she catches a glimpse of her dusky elven companion striding across the nave before kneeling in front of a shrine. I hope your prayers are heard, Nathara. We'll need every blessing we can get, and none more desperately than the Queen of Angel's.
This thought causes a faint smile to appear on her lips before she turns to face her interlocutor. "You assume correctly, Father. I am happy to say Tessaraea's art has saved his life, and he is now resting. It's the nature of his wounds which concerns me, though" she says, a frown appearing on her forehead.
"He shows the initial signs of exposure, and he speaks of winter fey allying themselves with bandits. Though simply a traveler on her way south, as a servant of the Dawnflower..." she hesitates for an instant, unsure whether mentioning that particular fact this close to the Qadiran border would be wise. Then again, with Sarenrae having her own shrine within the temple, she figures people around here must be more open-minded than elsewhere in Taldor. "...my friend here has taken it upon herself to see this evil eradicated from these woods. As we march against this threat, I seek your wisdom on the matter. Tessaraea told us Heldren's been experiencing unnatural summer frosts lately. Has anything else happened around here, anything unusual that might give us a clue of what we're about to face?"
"I'd prefer sooner." Inire says to Evelyn as they work to change. "We'll see how things go, though. I don't really like debts. Gifts are okay, but an eight gold gift for someone you've known for two weeks is a very large amount of 'much'." she says, offering Evelyn a smile.
"But either way... we should hurry back. I'm not sure how useful I'll be in bringing fey down, though..." she says, motioning to her blade. "I'll try to deal with what I can."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Morgraine followed the others as they made their hurried purchases, loans, and gifts. She still had her furs and clothing designed for the frigid cold of her homeland, something for which she may soon have cause to be glad.
She wondered briefly if there were items and things she should be getting, but honestly had no idea what might be needed. The recent months of travel not withstanding, growing up as a young noblewoman, even in a land such of Irrisen, she had not received much experience in the life of an "adventurer".
Indeed, she briefly wondered if she wouldn't end up getting in the way of the others more than anything. Yet she could not, or would not, step aside.
The past few weeks she had been uneasy for reasons she could not put into words. Now, with fey and possibly the witches moving this far south, that nameless itch was digging into her skin deeply. It was all she could do not to stop and scratch right then and there!!
What possible reason could Irrisen have to be this far South. Or was it the fey themselves? Fey were always capricious, and did things their own way, in their own time, for their own reasons. Yet if they were wintertouched, it seemed unlikely that they would be here of their own accord. Was it some ploy between rivals at home? Was the Witch queen seeking to expand her power? Was it the workings of her own coven? Morgraine wanted answers. Whatever, it could bode nothing but I'll for these Southerners... or Morgraine herself. She wanted answers.
Yuln simply returns her nod. "May the gods watch over you and guide your blades. All of you." He lays back and his eyes close as he tries to relax and forget the remaining ache of his injuries.
The priest listens carefully to Tiferet's description of the man's condition. "Most curious. I'm familiar with the signs, but I've never had to deal with them around here before. Winters rarely grow that cold and there are enough hunters around to provide warm furs for anyone who needs them." He smiles at her hesitation. "Do not fear for your friend. My wife is a servant of the Dawnflower, just as I serve Erastil. You will not find intolerance here, even with the fanatics to the south. But to business. I have had many locals come speak to me regarding the strange weather, but I'm afraid I have few answers. These morning frosts and frigid nights have played havoc on the farmer's crops, but I cannot locate the source. My prayers for better weather have gone unanswered by both Old Deadeye and the Wind and Waves. I fear that whatever causes this may be beyond their power. And that frightens me."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Eirikr and Ashen wait for the rest of the group on the edge of the town, Eirikr leaning against the side of a building, his eyes fixed on the horizon, Ashen nuzzled closely against him. This was where his dreams had lead him. This was where he was supposed to be, he knew it. Snow on spring flowers. A year without summer, a poverty year, forty seven hundred and froze to death. He didn't know who had sent him here. This seemed like the sort of thing that Ashava would do, from what the Varisians had told him of her. But in his heart he thought--there will be blood, after this. There will be blood soon. There's already blood, blood on the snow, blood of from the lady's caravan and blood from the fey and soon there'd be his blood too. That seemed more like the sort of thing Jezelda would want, wouldn't it? Maybe they both wanted the same thing. There's only one moon. There can only be one moon, one moon with many faces, one face she shows the world and another she shows only to her children. Was Eirikr one of her children? He wonders that, and he can't seem to find the answer.
He holds the amulet in his hand, twisting it between his fingers, and he begins to mumble a prayer. The words are indistinct and he names no specific god, instead only whispering to the moon. May the moon's shadow always hide me. May the moon's face keep me safe. May the moon light my path and no others, for only me to see.
He finishes the prayer and returns the amulet to it's place at his neck, before taking the broken flute that hangs around his side from its place on his belt. He puts the flute to his lips and exhales slightly; the sound is shrill but quiet; Eirikr wonders if maybe only he can hear it, just him and Ashen. So he ties the flute back around his waist and now he begins to hum, making a sound that becomes a song, a quiet song but still a song, a song without words, a song that says I am ready--I am ready for the hunt.
Tiferet smiles warmly as the Erastilian tells her of his marriage with a Sarenraenite, of how in his temple faith is a matter of acceptance, not prejudice. Somehow, this makes her determination to defend this small village, whose name until yesterday she didn't even know, stronger than ever.
His following words are, however, a source of concern. And then, resolution. Sometimes what a god wants is not a prayer, but an arm willing to take up a sword in his name she thinks, paraphrasing and old proverb of her people. She knows better than to voice this notion out loud, though. "Gods often work in mysterious ways. I pray they'll bless our endeavor nonetheless" she states simply. "We'll let you know should we discover anything. Thank you for your time, Father."
She waits for Nathara to finish her devotions before leaving the temple. Lady Argentea's retinue was attacked on its way north, so finding the ambush site will be just a matter of following the main road in the opposite direction. It doesn't take long for Heldren to end and the fields to begin, and there, on the very edge of town, they find Eirikr and Ashen already waiting for the group to assemble.
Tiferet silently walks toward him, her gaze looking southward. After fourteen hundred years, finally a Heaven-talker once again marches against Irrisen, though surely no-one would have expected it to happen here of all places. Is this the glorious march I was promised, Tolc? She remembers the tale of a distant ancestor of hers, dating back to the Winter War – a story seldom recounted, and even then only in shame. A mighty warrior who challenged a frost giant champion in battle; thrice he fell, but only twice he rose. The third time, out-matched and witnessing the utter defeat of his people, he just laid down in the snow, and begged for a quick death.
I only ask this of you, Snow-strider she silently prays. May my body break before my spirit.
Mouse is quick to change and just as quick to return to the general store. When she arrives, Eirikr has left. She knew that the others had gone to the temple, but she didn't really have anything to ask them. So... she looked for the other two. It wasn't hard to spot Eirikr at the edge of town, with his big shaggy behemoth, so she headed that way.
Once there, she paused for a moment. "So... you can really speak to Ashen? Can you get him to nod his head for me?" Inire asked, once she arrived. Trust, but verify, was a pretty common thought process where she was from. She'd never met a person who could talk to their animals, short of casting a magical spell. It was strange to think that this young man had been blessed in so many ways. Prophetic dreams and the ability to speak with his closest companion?
Then... that begged the question. Maybe his closest companion was his friend because he could speak with animals and not the other way around. "Where did the two of you meet?" she asked, as her train of thought switched tracks.
Since Evelyn had taken care of everything in town she needed Eve followed Mouse as a silent shadow for the time being.
With their business resolved in town, the party heads out along the south road toward the site of the attack. As they move south, it gets colder and colder and they begin to feel the nip in the air. Fortunately, their new winter clothes keep them mostly comfortable. As they near the woods, they see something truly strange. Snow is blowing out of the trees. A thick layer of white covers everything, several inches deep and still building up. Working through the snow slows the group a bit and it's nearly an hour and a half after they've left the village before they find their way to the sight of the battle.
The road is littered with debris and corpses of both humans and horses lay strewn across the road. A carriage stands against one side of the road, the only intact things left at the site. The horses were cut free and likely slain while a second carriage is wrecked and overturned not far behind it. Further south, more bodies litter the road and a strange statue-like figure made of ice stands in the middle of the road.
Mouse moves along with the rest of the group, and when they approach the battle sight, she slips quietly through the nearby woods. Or rather, she would like to. As she sweeps away from the others, and towards the cart, the unnatural snow and ice crunches beneath her feet on occasion. Given the situation, it was a dangerous prospect, but discovering any clues in the area took precedence for Mouse, over prudence. Worse, however, was that her focus was so great on where she was going, she seemed oblivious to her immediate surroundings.
As they move further south, Tiferet feels invigorated. The cold air on her naked skin, the gusts of wind making her gown flutter... and then, the snow. For the first time in her life, Tiferet sees the snow.
It would be perfect, if it weren't for the gruesome scenario on display in front of them. Speaking no word, she carefully makes her way across the frozen carnage and stops in front of the ice statue, examining it closely.
Eirikr smiles up at Inire upon hearing her question. He looks over at Ashen and says "Ashen, walk around the lady two times". Ashen responds by staring at him, his tongue hanging slightly out of his mouth, as if he didn't understand what Eirikr was saying. "Ashen, c'mon continues Eirikr, glancing back at Inire. After a brief whining sound, Ashen gets up from his spot at Eirikr's side and walks around Inire twice, before sitting down beside Eirikr again.
"Meet?" says Eirikr at Inire's second question; he quickly glances back at Ashen before answering her. "I, uhh, guess we've always known each other. Ashen would come around town and he needed somebody to talk to. So he talked to me. Simple as that, right" smiling sheepishly up at Inire.
***Meanwhile, in the future***
Red paint on white canvas. Blood on the snow. This is where it happened; this is where it would start. Like Tiferet, he is drawn to the strange statue of ice. He walks towards it as well, but first he draws upon the magic within himself to give him the power to see if there is any lingering power in the area.
As the group begins to search through the site, they quickly discover that every body has been stripped naked and left to rot, though there are an unexpectedly large number of bodies lying on the bloodstained snow.
"Hm. That's neat. I had no idea wolves lived anywhere near as long as humans!" Inire said, way back when, completely believing him; after all... what reason would he have to lie?
*Later*
Mouse continued to slip across the snow with a preternatural grace that she couldn't really explain. She just... didn't sink into the snow. Even still, her footfalls crunched on ocassion as she made her way towards the carriage to try to discover what was left. As she looks over the scene, she realizes that not much at all is going to be left inside, probably.
Evelyn places a hand on Mouse's shoulder, causing a quick pink spark to erupt at the point of contact, before moving forward to examine the scene of the attack. "We should bury the bodies, they don't deserve to be left like this."
***The Past***
"Ashen's going to live forever, I'm pretty sure. He'll live longer than me at least" says Eirikr to Inire while scratching him behind the ears. He looks back at her and smiles before continuing. "You ask a lot of questions. Good questions though. Where are you from?
***The Present***
"No magic," says Eirikr, surveying the ruins around him. Not even the statue. Was it a statue? He wasn't sure. But if there was no magic--maybe he could find a trail, figure out where the fey had gone or maybe Ashen could catch their scent.
Morgraine frowns as they came upon the grizzly scene of the battle. She stops, and bends down to inspect one of the corpses, then notices the odd ice sculpture. Curious, she makes her way over to inspect it.
At mention of burying the bodies, she shakes her head. "The dead are beyond aid. We need to find a trail leading from this place. If they did not use magic to whisk themselves away, then there should logically be a trail which we should follow without delay. They have quite a lead on us as it is, no?"
As Morgraine approaches the statue, it becomes clear that it's not made of pure ice. A human arm hangs out of the ice, a sword still grasped in half frozen fingers while the rest of the body is trapped inside of a thick layer of semi-transparent ice. The man seems to be the only one still wearing his equipment, as whoever stripped the bodies could not be bothered to break the ice to retrieve it.
Morgraine reaches out as if drawn by morbid fascination and touches the sword. Her eyes wander over the frozen corpse.
His hands feel cold to the touch and a slight layer of frost covers his fingers. Through the ice, Morgraine can make out the white lion that signifies an officer of the Taldan military emblazoned on his breastplate. Yet his body is entirely unmarred, as if he was frozen in an instant. His sword is of exceptionally fine make and is held slightly loosely in his grip, perhaps loose enough to slip free.
More evidence, if it is needed, that Irrisen is at work here. A particularly cruel way to go. I would not be surprised if they toyed with him at the end, Morgraine muses silently.
The woman from the 'North' glances over at Tiferet, whom she seems to just notice was standing nearby.
That symbol there. A man of rank, perhaps captain of our noblewoman's guard? His sword appears to me a thing of worth. It may be well if one of us that may wield such a weapon take it that it might at least obtain justice for its owner, should fate allow."
There has been a gleam in Nathara's when she saw Yuln's sword, but she did not dare to ask for it. When Tiferet offers the sword she accepted it with a broad smile and took it gracefully in both hands. Outside of the village she tried its balance, dancing a particularly difficult passage of a well known sword dance.
As the group approaches the site of the battle site she holds back at first, let the scout swarm out first as she was trained. Mentally she tries to steel herself for the sight up close - she has never seen so much death and destruction before, but she represented the honour of the spelldancers and had to be strong. Without thinking much about she mumbles in elven: "Arcane flow, resonate in my eyes."*
She enters the scene of the raid, trying to step only in in trails of already trampled snow, the sword in her firm grip.
"I have a feeling that they fey may have disposed of their human support before they left. I would not be surprised if their were no tracks leading off this site to be found. But if it is so... what happened to all this equipment? Could fey carry equipment for so many creature which must seem like giants in their eyes while they fly and transport their captive?" She looks over to Eirikr whether he has any clue what happened after the battle.
Nathara starts moving from body to body and checks thoroughly for vital signs. It is often surprising under which conditions under which grim circumstances there can be life left in a body, even though the pulse may so low that it is hard to recognize.
"I agree that the dead must be taken care of, but to do that might cost us a day, particularly on the frozen ground without pickaxes and shovels. I shall run back to the village and inform the priest of our findings."
She drops her backpack next to Tiferet. "Could you watch out for my equipment in the mean time?"
Tiferet ponders Morgraine's suggestion, but finds no flaw in its rationale. "I agree. We'll honor his legacy by carrying on his battle." That said, she puts her hand on the frozen captain and whispers some words, heat slowly emanating from her palm.
As Nathara volunteers to bring news back to the village, Tiferet picks up her backpack, briefly interrupting her work. "You're right about burying those men being hardly feasible in our current condition. But other than confirming Yuln's tale, we still know very little that wasn't known before" she thoughtfully says. "I say we press on, search for a trail. I don't want to believe this is a dead end. In the meantime, we can lay the bodies in the carriage and let the cold preserve them. We'll carry them to Heldren on our way back, by the strength of our arms if need be, where the priest can give them a proper burial. I believe you'll be far more useful as... Hush. Did you hear that?"
The faint thump seems to have originated within the intact carriage. "There might be a survivor still inside" she whispers, slowly approaching the blocked door, axe in hand. "Still, we should be careful. Feys are known for leaving nasty traps in their wake."
Nathara goes into an defensive fighting stance. She lifts her left into the air, raises to fingers and circles them briefly - the sign for "gather around me" as she approaches the carriage on Tiferet's side. She is so caught in her training that she does not seem to consider the possibility that others might not understand military hand signs.
"Open it so that I take the heat... if it attacks I can cast a shield." She stares at the door trying to figure out whether it's a trap, but she has no clue about fey traps.
I assume Yuln's sword is a cold iron masterwork sword. Correct me if that's wrong.
Female NG Elven Tiefling Magus (Spelldancer), Level 1, Init 3, HP 9/9, Speed 30
AC 17, Touch 13, Flat-footed 14, CMD 16, Fort 3, Ref 3, Will 2, CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus 0
Claws +3 / +3 (1d4+3 / 1d4+3, x2)
Longsword +3 (1d8+3, 19-20/x2)
Cold Iron Yuln Oerstag's Sword +4 (1d8+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt (+4 Armor, +3 Dex)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 19, Wis 11, Cha 10
Condition None
Tiferet briefly locks eyes with Nathara, then silently nods. She lets the swordswoman take position straight in front of the door before carefully removing the broken spear holding it shut.
"I grew up in Absalom... but I'm from Irrisen. The Pathfinders took care of me when I was little. What I've been planning to do has been a sort of 'thank you' to them, for all they've done." she gives him a small smile, looking to Evelyn to see if she had any questions.
Mouse did her best to stay quiet to keep anyone from knowing she was there, which is why she didn't acknowledge her companion's words. She continued to shift quietly around the scene, rather than through... once she'd made a full circuit and nothing had spotted her or attacked her allies, she moved inwards.
"We should do something about the bodies, but there's not much we can do. We couldn't dig through the snow and earth. There's a castle with people who work there who can do that... and know who each person is. It would be wrong for us to bury men who have families." she suggests.
She stays out of direct view of the carriage opening, around the side, when they suggest opening it. She had no intention of being spotted before she learned of the situation.
It takes Tiferet only a moment to release the captain's icy grip on his weapon. It seems that her spell could free his body from the ice given enough time, though she's uncertain of exactly how long it would take.
While she works on the statue, Nathara examines each and every body, taking a minute or two with each. Yet her search seems to be for naught. The winter fey and their allies seem to have been very thorough in their massacre and every body is well and truly dead. She finds several with throats slashed and wrists opened to ensure they died before the bandits fled. Yuln's survival is seeming more and more a miracle.
With the new sword freed from the officer's grip, Tiferet returns to examine the carriage again. There is another small thumping sound, but loud enough that anyone nearby can easily hear it. With the others getting into position, the skald pulls the spear haft free. The door explodes open in an instant, with three bodies seemingly crammed inside tearing free with gurgled growling sounds. The bodies leap at the nearest individuals, swinging arms wildly and grunting.
Nathara barely has time to cry out her spell and raise a barrier of arcane power as one of the creatures is on her.
The first zombie attempts to deliver a powerful overhand blow to Tiferet, but his stumbling to get out of the carriage makes his blow clumsy and he misses badly. The second lunges at Nathara much the same way. The third takes the chance to lumber forward a few steps, searching for another target to attack .
Inire is up.
Mouse continues to appear completely inept as she slips around the corner, drawing her weapon as she does. She catches her arm on one of the tethers, but doesn't react overmuch to the sounds it causes.
The normally graceful Inire lashes out with a wide, horizontal strike that would, in theory, follow much of the curve of the blade... But unless the zombie wanders into the strike, it's likely to come up short, as she flinces away as she realizes that she's attacking a person.
Assuming that Ashen gets to go after Eirikr, he will five foot step towards the zombie as well and then attack with his bite.
(1 BAB+1 str bonus+2 flanking+1 bless)
If Ashen hits, the zombie is now tripped.
unless something huge happens Eve would move outside the AoO range of the other zombies to flank the one with Mouse and attack with the sword cane.
The zombies lurch forward again in a display of thrashing limbs, attempting to bludgeon the heroes into submission.
Seeing Inire battered by the undead menace, Evelyn picks her way across the snow and gets behind the zombie, drawing out a sword from within her cane as she does so. She lashes out, but her blade misses, catching nothing but air.
The remaining undead lashes out at Nathara with a heavy hand. The creature's closed fist connects with her temple in a brutal slam and nearly sends her to the ground with a single blow, though she just barely keeps her footing.
Seeing Nathara wounded, Tiferet lets out a war cry and her blade surges with arcane power. She raises the greataxe and delivers a brutal overhand blow, rending the creature from shoulder to hip. It crumples into silence and stops moving.
Eirikr channels holy power into his body and releases an aura around himself, instilling divine focus on his allies then commands his wolf friend forward as they both close in on the undead menace. Ashen snarls and leaps into action, sinking his teeth into the dead flesh and dragging the shambling corpse to the ground.
Nathara is up!
Female NG Elven Tiefling Magus (Spelldancer), Level 1, Init 3, HP -1/9, Speed 30
AC 18, Touch 10, Flat-footed 15, CMD 16, Fort , Ref , Will -1, CMB +3, Base Attack Bonus 0
Claws 0 / 0 (1d4+3 / 1d4+3, x2)
Longsword 0 (1d8+3, 19-20/x2)
Cold Iron Yuln Oerstag's Sword 0 (1d8+3, 19-20/x2)
Chain Shirt, Shield (+4 Armor, +4 Shield, +3 Dex, -3 Misc)
Abilities Str 16, Dex 16, Con 12, Int 19, Wis 11, Cha 10
Condition Shield 9 rds, Critically Wounded, Disabled
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Fearing what will happen if she gives the creature another chance to pummel her, Mouse lashes out with reckless abandon, elven blade carving through the creature's neck, the blade dragging through its flesh like a knife through butter, despite her lack of strength.
'Just use it like a pen. Pull, don't push. Allow the blade to do the work..'
Nathara staggers back and elects to conserve her strength rather than risk attacking and leaving herself vulnerable when she's injured. Morgraine sees her companions wounds and hurries across the battlefield, channeling the power of her patron spirit into her hands to seal the magus's wounds. With no other choice, she dashes past the zombie knocked prone by Ashen only moments before. However, the undead isn't even able to get close with it's flailing.
Morgraine touches her hands to Nathara's side and Nathara instantly feels some of the pain and light-headedness fade.
Mouse sees her mistake, as she notices the blackened edges of the creatures, the open throat and wrists, her eyes widen, and she barely has time to react, as the zombie nearly slams her to the ground. As she regains her footing, she sees it go down, almost as she hears Nathara get pummeled into the ground beside her.
Fearing what will happen if she gives the creature another chance to pummel her, Mouse lashes out with reckless abandon, elven blade carving through the creature's neck, the blade dragging through its flesh like a knife through butter, despite her lack of strength.
'Just use it like a pen. Pull, don't push. Allow the blade to do the work..'
The zombie's head tumbles off of it's shoulders and the creatures goes still on the frozen ground as Mouse's blade severs it's neck with a single perfectly placed blow.
Evelyn is up!
Evelyn moves behind the zombie so she's flanking with Nathara she focuses her gaze on the zombie as she brings her blade down on it.
Evelyn's sword slashes deep into the zombie's flesh, leaving it staggered, but as she tries to force her will on it, she finds there is no mind to affect. It's attention drawn by the blow, the zombie wheels around and attempts to strike at Evelyn with a powerful blow.
Unfortunately for it, the deep sword wound makes it difficult to move and it misses badly.
Tiferet is up!
Those abominations are fast. Must be freshly raised, probably just after the attack.
Roaring her challenge, Tiferet pounces on the last standing undead. The throbbing pain in the arm she used to clumsily parry the initial onslaught, though, prevents her blow from matching her previous one in effectiveness.
__________________________________________________________
Tiferet's axe rises and falls in another powerful blow and finishes Evelyn's attempts to cut the monster in half. The two halves fall opposite directions and the undead creature ceases moving for good.
Combat Ends
Once sure the three that jumped out at them where dead Eve moves, with her weapon still drawn, to inspect the inside of the caravan that had hidden the undead.
Nathara lowers Yuln's sword as Tiferet's axe cleaves the last creature of darkness. "I love you guys", she whispers and totally means it. "You just saved my life." She tries to hug and squeeze Morgraine if she allows it.
Pointing at the chopped of head of the zombie which "Mouse" killed decaptivated she mumbles: "Would you mind if I called you 'cougar' from now on? You're just not a mouse." She leans to the cart and takes her breath for a moment, not thinking about what comes next, but just enjoying to be alive after her first moments of real combat to the death.
Mouse takes a moment to shake the cobwebs out of her head, but her ears are still ringing. She winces slightly as she slips out of her fighting stance, and rolls her shoulder; if not for all of the leather straps and the thick fur, that'd have probably broken her shoulder. She manages a small smile to Evelyn as she reaches into her belt pouch and pulls out a rag to wipe her sword clean before sheathing it once more. She looks over to Nathara, wondering just how hard she'd been hit as she does so.
"You okay?" she asks quietly, not reeling away, as she looked over the Tiefling who just suggested she was a cougar. "I sort of prefer Mouse. Cougar gives negative connotations. I've never met anyone who didn't like a Mouse."
As Eve slips towards the Caravan, Mouse is right behind her, watching her back... and drawing her sword back out, nearly immediately.