[o] whispered arrival

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

Wren did not remember deciding to board the skyship. She remembered only the feeling of needing distance, of movement, of an escape that felt safer than standing still. Safer than being there, looking into the memory of a horrified man. The memory of the festival lingered like smoke in her lungs, sharp and disorienting, but the panic that had driven her onto the vessel had long since ebbed into something quieter. Not peace. Just exhaustion.

By the time the skyship dipped toward King’s End, the world below looked softened by distance — rolling greens brushed with gold, rivers threading like loose ribbons through the land. It was nothing like Stormbreak, and somehow that cracked something in her chest and lifted an interest. Maybe this had been a good choice.

New Haven greeted her with the gentle sounds of a town that carried on without urgency. Boots touched the dock with a faint thud that felt more final than she expected. The air smelled of grass, woodsmoke, and something faintly floral drifting from somewhere deeper in town. 

Wren breathed them in slowly.

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

A dog runs up to the girl, joyfully slamming his head up into her hand and leaning his long, lithe body against her legs with the rapid tapping of a tail. Wren had made the mistake of being hands-free around Smooches, which meant he intended to relieve her of that burden immediately. ”Sorry!” Colt calls out, her hands cupping her mouth to let the apology carry, the dog having run on well ahead of her.

She does not bother to call him, which perhaps seems like poor ownership, but in truth she knows there’s no godsdamned point to it so she doesn’t waste her breath. Instead, her heels urge her horse into a quicker gait, tawny legs trotting over the gap. Shifting deeper in her saddle and holding her feet away from the mare’s sides, Biscuit halts in response, tonguing her bit before lowering her head to snuffle at a weed.

”Apologies for him, he’s too friendly for his own good,” she laughs, skimming two fingers along her hat brim in greeting as she nods towards the woman. ”That’s Smooches, by the way. I’m Colt, rancher here. Hope he didn’t trouble you too much.”

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

The quiet had only just begun to settle into her bones when motion broke it. A blur of mottled gray and black skidded to a halt directly in front of her, eyes bright with the uncomplicated certainty that strangers existed solely to become friends. Wren blinked down at the blue merle dog as he pressed into her without invitation, tail wagging so forcefully it seemed to move the air around him. She laughed in a soft huff, taking this as good of a sign as any. “Well, hello,” she murmured, scratching the dog's head.

She could have stayed in that moment forever. Stayed in the warmth of the dog's presence and embrace, looking down into its soft eyes with as much honesty as she'd ever seen in a creature. But then the voice called out. Wren lifted her head, drawn by the noise, and the sight that followed held her still in a different way entirely. A horse moved toward her with quiet power, each step deliberate, carrying its rider as if the two were one creature rather than separate beings. Her breath caught, eyes widening with a childlike wonder she didn’t bother hiding. How had her day turned into this?

She had read about horses and heard passing mentions, but seeing one up close with its height and strength, the effortless partnership Wren immediately noticed, felt almost unreal. Her hand stilled against the dog’s fur as awe replaced uncertainty. King’s End, it seemed, was already showing her things she had never imagined. For a moment, she forgot the man with her eyes. "Uh, it's okay. I, uh, I like dogs." She admitted freely, no caution behind her voice, as she looked down from the wrangler to the dog again.

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

Smooches loves Wren. That much is clear to Colt the moment she draws upon them. Most travelers move with too much purpose, their destination clear in their mind, their hands busy with their haul, and even a few shrink back as if frightened. Not Wren though, she lavishes pets like his hair is exactly what she’d been looking for.

She does not recognize the girl, part of why she’d tossed out her name. Not that she knows everyone in King’s End, but all the more reason to introduce herself and her dog if she doesn’t. More than that though, this woman seems, out of place. A wideness to her eyes, a wariness to her posture, like she’s still learning how to settle. Colt leans in on an arm over her saddle, leaving Smooches be to abscond with more affection.

”Good,” Colt asserts with a nod. ”The best people do.” Cats and horses have their places too, but she has found she can never quite trust someone fully if they don’t like dogs. Even worse if dogs don’t like them either. ”Where you headed? We could walk with you.”

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

A group of Speaking Squirrels bursts into view, chattering excitedly as they scramble over roots and stones. Tails flick wildly as they wave their little paws and shout in unison.

“Come!” one calls, racing ahead a few steps before stopping abruptly. “Follow!” another adds, pointing in a direction that leads directly into a dead end or an entirely unremarkable patch of ground.

They regroup quickly, whispering among themselves before trying again, utterly convinced of their own usefulness. Whether they ever manage to lead anyone anywhere is doubtful, but their enthusiasm never wanes.

---

Speaking Squirrels Areas Found: Hollowed Grounds, King's End, Greatwood — Common Appearing like a slightly larger version of a common ground squirrel, the speaking squirrels - as their name suggests - can speak. Or they appear to. Their vocabulary is limited to "yes", "no", and "follow me!" Though it is entirely unclear whether or not they understand actually speech and the words they are saying, they nonetheless will answer questions and will lead wayward souls further astray. Calls of "follow me!" have led a number of victims to their death, as the squirrels have absolutely no idea where they are going. Challenge Rating: Easy HP: 38 | To Hit: +30 | Dmg: 9 Movement: Scurry 30 ft.; Climb 30 ft.; Leap 15 ft. SPECIAL SKILLS Limited Speech: vocabulary is only “yes,” “no,” and “follow me!” and it’s unclear they understand the words; Misleading Guide: will confidently lead wayward souls astray without any sense of direction; Chorus Echo: nearby squirrels pick up the cry, creating a misleading chorus from multiple directions; Gap Squeeze: slips through holes and hedge tunnels too small for most pursuers

TRAITS Slightly Larger Ground Squirrel: looks like an upsized ground squirrel with bright, curious eyes; Tree & Wall Climber: agile on trunks, ruins, and hedges; Hedgerow Local: nests in the twists and hedgerows, popping in and out of tiny gaps; Fearful but Curious: skittish at noise yet drawn to travelers and their shiny gear ACTIONS Chatter Reply: answers any question with “yes” or “no,” regardless of sense; “Follow Me!”: darts a few bounds, stops to look back, then scurries on, luring travelers deeper; Tail Flag: flicks its tail to signal others or draw attention to a false turn; Dart & Vanish: bolts up a trunk or into a hedge-gap, reappearing on a different branch a moment later

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

When Colt didn't immediately call Smooches back to her, and accepted Wren's reciprocated love of the creature, she smiled again. "I'm Jesse." She said, looking down at Smooches before back to Colt. But the woman's next question made her smile falter and her brows knit together slightly. She hesitated, fingers still buried in Smooches’ fur as if the contact might anchor her long enough to respond honestly. "Uhh, don’t know, actually.” She admitted, the uncertainty soft but unhidden. Her gaze drifted away from the rancher out towards King's End proper, and she willed a faint, apologetic smile, wishing she could offer something more concrete. “I just arrived. I’m from, uh, Stormbreak.”

Then, a sudden explosion of chatter shattered the end of Wren's sentence. She bristled quickly, head turning as a cluster of squirrels burst into view, their tiny bodies vibrating with frantic enthusiasm. They scrambled over roots and stones with theatrical urgency, tails flicking as they waved their paws and shouted overlapping instructions. One darted ahead only to stop in front of what appeared to be absolutely nothing of importance, while the others gathered in an urgent huddle, chattering as though plotting something revolutionary.

The sight of the squirrels made her press her hand into Smooches' head again, as if she could keep the creatuer there. She hoped the dog didn't take off after the squirrels. But between them, the rancher, and the dog, Wren felt like she was the only one without a plan.

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

”Jesse,” she repeats, committing it to memory, though there’s an amused edge to it. ”I have a ranch hand named Jesse. You guys don’t seem a lick alike though,” she reassures, before suddenly pausing, features drawn up with mock concern. ”Unless—you aren’t a bit of an opinionated ass too, are you?” Even if her answer was yes, well, clearly Colt puts up with that and even pays for it.

The humor levels out to something genuinely curious as Jesse seems to struggle after her name, like maybe it’s the only steady thing she’s got to her. ”Oh, I see,” she murmurs, and though there’s not pity that edges in on her expression and tone, there is something that gentles. ”You have somewhere to stay already, right? If not, I could help you look. I know there’s a lot of organizing for Breakers right now at the skyport. Everyone’s welcome, and we want to ensure you all have what you need to settle.” This is not the first time they’ve taken in the displaced city members, but it is the one that will be permanent.

Biscuit’s head pops up, less with alarm than outright annoyance as the squirrels sprint by in a cacophony of nonsense. Colt rolls her eyes, and Smooches absolutely takes off like a dart after them, barking out a chorus that sounds oddly like get off my lawn. ”He’ll be back,” she reassures, catching the almost insistent way the girl tried in vain to cling to the four-legged bullet. ”The speaking squirrels are much faster and more agile than him. Don’t tell him that though, Smooches is sensitive.”

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

Wren’s mouth parted in quiet offense at Colt’s teasing, though the expression dissolved almost instantly into something sheepish. “I—no,” she said quickly, a breath of laughter slipping through despite herself. “I don’t think so.” The idea of being opinionated felt foreign enough. The idea of being an ass even more so. Still, there was comfort in the way Colt delivered it, like she had already decided Jesse could take the joke.

Her smile faded more slowly when Colt asked about somewhere to stay, and her brows knit together again. She shook her head once, small and honest. “No. I didn’t plan that far.” Her fingers twisted briefly in the fabric of her shirt hem before she forced them still. “I just, uh, got on the first skyship I saw.” Saying it plainly made it sound reckless. It probably was. But she couldn;t shake the image of the man with her eyes, looking at her like she were a ghost, as it now swarmed again behind her eyes.

But the dog’s surge forward and away, despite her attempts to hold on to whatever Smooches had offered her, made her stumble forward a step. “Oh—” The protest died quickly as Colt reassured her. Smooches would come back. She watched the dog disappear in a flurry of dust and indignant barking, tension easing as laughter bubbled up instead. ”I’ll be sure to keep it to myself.” She murmured, warmth returning to her voice.

Then, more earnest, and somehow more at ease despite the man’s face lingering in her memory, she looked back at Colt. “I’d appreciate help. With, uh, wherever people like me are supposed to go.”

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

Colt’s grin races like wildfire, a deep approval of Jesse’s ability to maintain a secret, even a frivolous one, or more likely because of it. ”People like you,” she drawls warmly, shifting back upright in her saddle. ”Can go wherever the fuck they want.” Not just because King’s End is very accommodating in that regard, but because now more than ever Jesse has the freedom to mold her future. A terrifying thing, truly, to have a wealth of opportunities, but how rich she is to be able to choose.

There is almost an edge of envy to Colt’s expression as she regards the girl, who clearly lacks the foresight but not the gall to leap into adventure and see what happens next. ”You got guts, so I’d keep trusting ‘em. I only ever get in trouble when I ignore mine.” Sweeping past the monument of decision making in theory, Colt asks for it next in practice, one hand gesturing out at the side of her mount, reaching back and patting the horse’s ass. ”D’ya ride?”

She doesn’t expect a yes, but she gives Jesse the chance to answer, although Colt offers a bit more clarity. ”Could sit behind me, it’ll be faster and save you some walking. In fact, barely even consider it riding, more like hanging on, which you’ve already proven you’re capable of.” She shrugs though, proving there’s no pressure to the ask. ”If not, we can walk as is, Breaker benefits are attaway.” She nods with her chin towards a horizon line.

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

Wren blinked at Colt’s answer, the blunt freedom of it landing somewhere unfamiliar. Wherever the fuck they want. The words felt too big to hold all at once in her small hands. No one in Stormbreak, at least not that she had met, had ever phrased belonging like that. It had always been structured, assigned, ordained by the gods. This sounded like standing at the edge of something wide and unscripted, like a cliff with clear and deep water beneath it ready to catch her. Her gaze lifted back to the woman from the dog and horse, eyes bright in a way they hadn’t been all day.

“No,” she admitted quickly, but there was no hesitation behind it this time. “I’ve never even — I mean, I’ve never been this close to one before.” Yet, the invitation sparked through her like struck flint and set a bright blaze within her belly. The idea of climbing up there, of feeling that strength move beneath her, of seeing King’s End from higher than her own two feet, chased away the lingering image of the man with her eyes far more effectively than she expected.

“But I want to! She added, almost breathless. “If you’re sure it’s okay.”

There was nerves, undoubtedly, but beneath them there was something steadier. Perhaps it was from the way Colt spoke, for from the way that Smooches had accepted her so quickly, but Wren trusted this woman. So, when Colt was ready and offered her the hand up, Wren climbed behind the cantle of the saddle and settled herself on the edge of the skirt. She couldn’t help the mega watt smile that plastered across her features, nor the slight shaking of her hands from both anticipation and excitement.

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

The smile that gentles Colt’s features is built from countless times she’s reassured someone into a saddle. More times than she’d like, to be honest, but old irritations over that have since died out, replaced with the quiet patience of waiting for someone to become brave. She does not have to wait long with Jesse.

”Excellent job,” she praises once they get situated, glancing back over her shoulder with a twist, murmuring softly to the horse as she shifts to accommodate the new weight. This is Biscuit,” she informs with a pat to the mare’s neck, flopping her mane back and forth in rough affection. ”She’s one of my favorites.””

Pressing her calves in on the side of the horse, the mare moves out into a walk, not quick, but not the slow plod of an animal dragging out an undesirable task. ”Hang on,” Colt warns as those first strides are taken. ”You can grab around my waist, it’s usually easiest, or the edges of the saddle.” It’s startling, how this too, manages to flash a silver memory behind her eyes. A first meeting, the initial brush that left more heat than wanted, and a curious tether unspooling into the dark.

She blinks and it’s gone, no better than mist burning under the morning. A swift shape races from the brush at their side, Biscuit’s ears twisting and head lifting faintly as Smooches ricochets around the trail with them. ”Ah, he’s back, guess he got tired of losing the squirrel race.”

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

The moment Biscuit shifted beneath them, Wren felt it everywhere. Quickly, and with a small nervous laugh, Wren slid her arms around Colt’s waist. The contact steadied her immediately, though her fingers still trembled with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Riding wasn’t like walking, and it certainly wasn’t like riding in a skyship where the motion stayed distant and removed beneath layers of wood and rope. Each step rolled through the horse’s body and into Wren’s legs, her hips, and her spine, until she felt like part of the movement whether she meant to be or not. 

”This is different than I thought it would be.”  she breathed softly as Biscuit took another few strides. Better, she almost said. The motion was strange but rhythmic, like learning a dance where the horse already knew the steps and she just had to follow along. The wind shifted against her face as they moved, carrying the warm scent of sun-touched grass and dust. 

She was still smiling when a familiar blur bounded back toward them. Wren twisted slightly, careful not to upset her balance, watching Smooches zigzag triumphantly through the brush before rejoining them. “Oh good,” she murmured, “I was worried he might actually win the squirrel race.” Her gaze flicked back over Colt’s shoulder to their path ahead after a moment, curiosity rising easily now that the nerves had settled into something more manageable. “Is he your companion?” she asked. “Smooches, I mean.”

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers

Colt

A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun
Can't trust anyone

She can’t see Jesse’s expression, but she can hear the touch of wonder in her voice, the way it softens her tone into something striving to grasp this feeling. ”Right?” Colt tosses back over her shoulder with a smile. ”Get going fast and you practically feel like you turn into the wind itself.” A few Attuned with faster and more aerial shifts might have a thing or two to say about that, but for her, this is as good as it gets. Well, that and the few times she’s ridden a pegasus, but even on the ground, the horses get damn near close. ”Makes you feel alive, and you realize all this time you’ve just kinda been sleeping.”

She could go on until her mouth ran dry, but she minds herself before she talks the girl’s ears off. Instead, her focus pivots to the dog trotting alongside them, stopping occasionally to sniff at a blade or two of grass and then surging ahead to catch back up. ”One day he just might,” she laughs, although she highly doubts it, and so do the squirrels, but Smooches believes and she supposes that’s enough.

Shaking her head faintly, wig shifting beneath her hat with the motion, Colt glances back down at Smooches. ”Nah, I ain’t bonded to anything like that, if that’s what you mean.” She’s considered a dragon a time or two, but she’s secretly reserving her soul for a pegasus, not entirely sure it’s possible but hoping there’d be some sort of connection one day when she could manage to brave the top of the world and break one. ”Besides, he’s Frey’s dog. Brought him as a pup to their shrine as an offering. Frey kissed ‘im, but left him here, so I said I’d look after him until he grew enough to look after himself at their shrine.” He’s passed a year now, still puppy-like in build and manner, so she doesn’t deem him ready quite yet. Might be deluding herself that he ever would be, honestly, with what a goof he is. ”That’s why he has the name he does.”

I was so sure what I needed was more
Tried to shoot out the sun

Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father

Wren listened with quiet fascination as Colt spoke, her smile lingering as the horse carried them steadily along the trail. There was something infectious about the woman’s enthusiasm, the way she spoke about riding like it was more than travel, like it was freedom itself. Wren could feel a little of that now, even at the horse’s easy pace. "Do you have more horses?"

When the explanation about Smooches came, though, Wren’s attention sharpened with a flicker of surprise. “Frey?” she echoed softly, almost to herself before realizing she’d said it aloud. Stormbreak had been full of reverence for the gods, but the idea of someone casually bringing a puppy as an offering felt oddly personal, almost intimate in a way she hadn’t quite expected. But, she supposed that felt right for Frey. At least one aspect of them. Her gaze drifted down to the dog again as he trotted proudly beside them, occasionally darting ahead before circling back as if checking they were still following.

“And they… just let him stay?” she asked, curiosity threading easily through her voice. “After blessing him, I mean.” Wren studied Smooches with new interest, wondering if the god’s touch had changed him somehow, or if he had always been this bright, friendly creature bursting with enthusiasm. “He seems pretty happy about the arrangement.” she added with a small laugh as the dog bounded ahead again, tail high.

Wren

Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers