In the Magic Forest

Willoughby took a step forward which just happened to be right atop Trueno's foot. That he leaned onto that leg, was no coincidence, even if he made it look as if it was. He pushed his head forward and in a grumbly tone. "...You might want to stop tugging my mane. I GOT it... miss."

Edward lightly skipped through the wood, barely leaving footprints, occasionally passing slender fingers lightly over leaves and trees or stroking Hunter's fur when he passed.

Really, this was quite silly! He was a grown man, after all. Not that he was particularly attached to his footprints, but he felt that a grown-up man shouldn't dance about like a young, graceful girl. Wolf-Hunter he could get quite used to, and certainly to Firebird (Willoughy he would judge only after he had more opportunity to judge his points), but himself ... he really wondered what evil spirit had chosen this for him.

The clearing he had meant (he could feel this stuff now, for heaven's sake!) opened now before them, a pleasant little brook in the middle and a circle of mushrooms at the edge.

"Let us rest awhile here and make plans! For I feel ..." What? No! But his tongue ran on. "... that there will be danger soon, and dark forces stir in the east!"

He would never be able to show his face in camp again! And what danger did he mean? The cold wind that came from there?

---

Trueno tossed his head back, swallowing a curse, and shoved at Willoughby's shoulder. His warrior's body was strong, and he didn't try to be gentle.

"Watch where you're going, you ... you ... birdhorse!"

Willoughby thrust the wing closest to Trueno against him, gave him a sound smack with it and then, as if nothing had happened moved on after the others. "If you want to pick an insult, horse, you'd better work on it a little longer." He was getting the hang of it. He had a strange sense of wanting to test his wings, to fly and experience the freedom neither man nor horse could ever do without getting killed in the process.

When their new guide, the elf, had stopped, so did he. Since it was suggested that they stop there and camp, he lowered one wing almost forming a step to get off of his back easier. He felt hungry , if a little, but he still did not want to eat grass. "There's a river close by, should we want to prepare something...but we will need to catch that first." Hunter, being the wolf, would be able to do that perfectly well, but he as a trooper, a subordinate, could not suggest that. Who ever heard of a trooper giving orders to an officer? Nobody.

Firebird slid off Willoughby's back easily. 'Catch what exactly? You really think you are going to eat meat or fish? Whoever heard of a horse doing that?'

Hunter on the other hand ignored the other's antics and butted his head against Torrington's leg, wishing to hear more about this supposed danger. Food could wait until they'd made certain they weren't going to become food themselves.

Trueno swept his flowing cloak from his broad shoulders and spread it on the grass for Firebird to sit on, glaring at Willoughby because his interference had prevented the stallion from helping Firebird down.

Then he puffed out his chest and confronted the unicorn squarely.

"I do not need to pick insults! You do not even behave like a proper horse!"
-----
Torrington carded his fingers through Hunter's thick underhair, tilting his head and trying to make sense of the strange impressions his changed senses picked up.

"The winds sing of a strange creature who has entered the boundaries of this realm. But it is hidden from my eyes."

Obviously there must be some law against an elf saying 'but I have no idea what it is'.

"That might be because I am NOT a horse, and I will not eat hay or grass." He made a face - as much as a horse could - at the thought. "..I'm a cavalry man.....well, I was and I am the one who is used to sitting on a horse's back rather than being one..." He snorted at Trueno, his wings lifting so that they certainly made him look bigger.

He tilted his head to look at the elf and the wolf. "A strange creature such as what we've become.. or a completely different beast?"

Hunter snapped at Torrington, suddenly irritated at being petted like a dog and trotted into the middle of the clearing, scenting the air as he went.

---

Firebird sighed and deigned to sit down on the spread out cloak, feeling tired: this human form was ridiculously weak she decided.

Trueno snorted back, not at all impressed - but most likely he had forgotten that he was smaller than Willoughby now.

---

Edward evaded Hunter's jaws with inhuman ease, but he was hurt anyway. Why had Hunter snapped at him? Even if the touch had bothered him, couldn't he have just moved away?

More sharply than he intented, he called for Trueno and moved away into the direction he had indicated previously. If Hunter decided to play around, he would investigate for himself.

Willoughby paused. So that is how it would be. He took a step back and then with all the strength he had - not yet quite sure how much that would be - he bumped into Trueno , intent on having him tip backwards.

His wings had given him an additional push.

The darkness stirred, feeling the delicious waves of discord between the group of travellers. It tasted it, wanting more. It wasn't often that it got to play with real ones. It wanted to attack, to devour them but the chain held it back.

'Now, now, my idea. It's too early. The other's aren't hear. Let's play a little game with them first,' said the witch and plucked a globule of what looked like fog out of the darkness. She whispered a few words and the globule grew, taking on a new shape.

'Go now! Crush them!" She ordered to the newly formed ogre. The ogre roared and set off at a lumbering run towards the discordant group.

Edward had reached the edge of the clearing when behind him a dull impact and a startled gasp sounded. He swirled around, long hair and cloak swinging out behind him. His fingers had without his consent taken the bow from his shoulder and fitted an arrow to it, but the danger turned out to be nothing more than Trueno, sitting on his posterior in the brook.

"Enough! What is ..."

He didn't end the sentence, because suddenly the gloomy feeling in his guts intensified. The birds had fallen silent, and from the east something like a rotten smell attacked his senses.

"Hunter!", he hissed, pointing his bow in this direction.

Willoughby walked around Trueno, his wings folding but his nostrils did flare, one ear flicking in Torrington's direction, while the other listened on. The wind seemed a friend to him, but brought more confusion than it did answers. It stank however and he shifted his weight, fighting the urge that a horse would have of running in fright. He had his senses still and he was .. had been a human before, not an animal that had its self preservation come first and above all.

"..I assume, we are no longer alone, sir." He spoke and shook his head, his main flying about and then settle again, not over his eyes.

Hunter didn't respond to Torrington's call: his nose already told him that something was wrong. He trotted over to Firebird, pushing her none too gently towards Willoughby. She squawked indignantly but went. Then he walked over to Torrington and pulled on the hem of his cloak, trying to indicate that they should walk back into the woods. Wolf or not, Hunter wasn't about to meet an unknown danger standing in a middle of a very convenient clearing.

Trueno pulled a large broadsword from the sheath on his back and firmly inserted himself between Firebird and whatever danger was coming. He didn't trust that bird-horse one bit to keep her safe. In his experience, dragoons simply galloped at everything without a plan, and then horses died. And the dragoons lost.

Edward followed Hunter's suggestion only once he was sure that the two horses and Willoughby were on their feet and retreating, too. Then he walked slowly backwards, searching the forest for the source of this foul smell. He had quite given up wondering about his reactions by now - and about his ability not to stumble while walking backwards.

Willoughby moved with Firebird and, he really wasn't sure. His subconsciousness was telling him it was either time for fight or flight, but he knew he had to follow the others and not do something stupid.

He could actually do actual flight, couldn't he? Only horses didn't really fly, even if they had wings, they were not supposed to have wings! he neighed and backed a little his wings flapping sharply.