With the horde upon them, Elodie put aside all fear and hesitation as she cast her dress and skin aside.

Only to emerge with a high-pitched battle bleat as Little Claw, except they were not so little anymore.

Size was power and power was strength, strength to hunt and defend their pack, so they drank deep of the Magic and stretched their size to their utmost limits. Nowhere as big as Mama who towered over the compound walls, but they still stood more than twice Howie's height while down on all fours. Even higher as they raised their front paw and lashed out with a scything blow that cut down the shells of the Soulless with ease. As they should, as their talons were for meant for digging into giant whitewoods to get at the soft, sweet pulp wrapped around the heart of the tree. A treat they did not eat often, because it took many, many years for a whitewood to develop this delicious interior, a mixture of wood fibres and sap that naturally fermented deep inside the tree's thick trunk. Little Claw had only tasted it once in life, a last resort from her mother to keep her starving cub alive, but it was not enough.

That was why Little Claw was always so sleepy, and why she was so unfamiliar with this larger size. She spent most her short life asleep in her den, too weak to go out and forage for food for herself or even play all that much with her siblings. Today though, Elodie needed Little Claw to be strong, so strong they became as they tore into the Soulless with reckless abandon. Using talons only, because they were not for eating, all foul and rotten like they were, but even then, Elodie yearned to tear into them with fang and fury.

Mama had explained all about the Great Enemy before Elodie left for her trip, but seeing it made her angrier than she'd ever been before. The foul magics of the Great Enemy were an affront to the world itself, with these cold, dead puppets injected with dark magics to mimic life and animation in a mockery of all things natural and wonderful, and this she would not stand for. So she swung her three-taloned claws left, then right, then left and right again, while screaming her fury for all to hear.

Even in her rage, Elodie had to admit that Little Claw had a very cute scream. Their throat was not made for making angry noises. Only squeaks, which Howie adored oh so very much, as he hugged and kissed her every time she made noises on the first day that they met, but he refused to hold and cuddle her the same way ever since. There would come a day when he did so again, but only if they survived this battle against the Great Enemy, one for which they were all ill-equipped to handle. Though their talons were sharp and strength formidable, Little Claw was similar to Dancing Hooves, as neither had experienced much of life and knew little to nothing of being the creature that they would grow into. So now, they learned together, and Elodie was learning that chopping trees and cutting down the Soulless were not the same thing.

Trees were strong, sturdy, and rooted to the earth, so when their powerful blows rained down upon them, their claws would bite deep into the wood with ease. While Zombies were much softer and weaker, they were also lighter and not rooted, so when Elodie and Little Claw's sharp talons cut through rotten flesh and touched upon solid bone, the force was enough to lift their foes off the ground and fling them aside.

But not kill them, which is what she needed to do.

Aim for the soft neck, that was what she told Howie, but this was not so easy to do with talons as large as theirs. Nor was Little Claw all that skilled or nimble, for she lacked the energy to play fight with her siblings and learn how to properly utilize her strength. Again and again they lashed out at the Soulless, and they both grew frustrated to see their efforts do nothing besides send those torn and tattered shells flying. Shells which Mended oh so very quickly, for there was a powerful Herald of the Great Enemy supporting them, one stronger even than the Wights engaged in battle with Monseigneur Edward Elton of Chelveston, the Sovereign's Talon and Harbinger of the Crown.

As well as Sir Bailey and Sir Rawlings. They were all very strong, and so too were the Métis braves battling atop the rampart walls, but there were so very many Zombies, Ghouls, and Wights over there. Much more than over here, but it was still too much for Elodie and Little Claw to handle. She was not alone however, as she had her pack to fall back on. A fresh pack that had only fought together for a few days, but one led by the greatest hunter of their generation who would not balk at doing battle with the Soulless.

"Hold!" Howie called as Elodie sought to advance, his rifle already emptied and being reloaded by his Mage Hands as he shot his tinny pistol into the horde. "Stay inside the Ward!" Each shot took a Zombie in the head, but one Bolt was not enough to disperse the Spirit holding the shell together, not even with help from his Hunter's Mark. The dark magics animating the Soulless with the false impression of life also insulated the shards of Spirits hidden within, while Mending their bodies and empowering them with speed, strength, and durability much to Howie's chagrin.

He had his own pack however, a pack of two who'd fought alongside one another for years now. Trundling up to take point, Cowie unleashed a gout of compressed flames with his Dragon's Breath. This was not the widespread blaze he typically loosed upon his foes to engulf everything before him; this was instead a concentrated stream of heat and flame no thicker than his torso. Its reach was similarly limited in range, only six metres ahead at most, but any Zombies caught in the blast were completely incinerated into ash.

Thereby freeing those slivers of Spirits instead of keeping them trapped inside their shells for Elodie to cleanse and send on their way. Better to only damage the shells and Spirits both, so that they stayed trapped a little longer and Elodie could free them from their torment forevermore, but she did not blame Cowie. He knew not the ways of the Diné and the lessons they'd learned in battle against the Great Enemy. He knew only to strike with hoof, horn, and flame, so he could not be faulted. For Cowie, this was not a battle to save the Spirits of the fallen; this was a battle to save the lives of his friends, and he would fight to his dying breath to keep them safe.

So too would Howie, as he shouted orders while firing into the horde. "Conserve your Spells!" he called, just after Harald unleashed another Scorching Beam, one that struck eight Zombies in a chain and burned them from the inside out. Even this was enough to free those slivers of Spirit, and Elodie watched as they split off and were captured anew by the Herald lingering in the skies above as a shadow upon the world. This was the true form of their foe, a Wendisa, that which commanded all the shells before them today. The outsiders called them Mimics, and this here today was the work of but a single one, a formless creature of Spirit lacking that true spark which came from a life lived.

And yet, it was formidable as could be, for today, they faced a single Herald of the Great Enemy, one who single-handedly maintained the dark magics empowering the shells inhabited by slivers of its will, while simultaneously commanding its troops to encircle and overwhelm all three of their groups.

The Wendisa was not a creature of the physical world, so Elodie and Little Claw could not reach out and swipe the darkness that was not darkness with their talons. Nor could Howie's Fire Bolts strike it down, or Harald and Astrid's Scorching Beams. Monsieur Askefjord's borrowed rifle punched holes clean through the shells, large ones that required more Mending, but not enough for the Wendisa to discard the damaged, like some of the shells that were burnt too badly to rise up again. Weaker Wendisa could be chased away with light and noise, but the one in the skies above was much too powerful to be scared. The only way to chase off this malevolent Spirit was to do enough damage to this horde of shells until it wasn't worth the Wendisa's efforts to maintain them, or until it ran out of Magic for the day.

Or for a hatałii trained in the Enemy Way to step forth and do away with the Wendisa. No one in Elodie's tribe knew the Enemy Way though, for those who could learn it were as rare as snow on the river. The outsiders also had methods of dealing with the Wendisa, ways of trapping or destroying them, but Elodie saw none of those at work here as she joined with Little Claw and their pack to fend off wave after wave of Zombies. They fought in two rows, with Elodie and Little Claw on the left, Howie in the centre, and Cowie on the right. In the gaps between, Monsieur Askefjord and Astrid fired their loud rifles and punched holes clean through the torsos, while Harald threw potions and fistfuls of flame into the horde. The flames ate away at the shells, but only for a few seconds and without enough intensity to destroy them. His potions were far more effective. The bright green ones exploded into sour-smelling Acid that ate away at flesh and bone faster than the Wendisa could mend it, while his orange red potions burst into puddles of flame that floated over top of the water and mud to incinerate legs and bodies alike as they fell and crumbled to ash.

And yet none were as effective as Howie, who stood as their pillar with axe and whip, chopping necks and crushing heads with grace and power both. No longer were his boots planted in mud, but rather balanced atop logs that shifted underfoot, but he understood this in a way he did not understand mud. He danced forward and back, never shifting or even leaning side to side so as not to get in the way of the shooting guns, yet that back-and-forth dance was enough to keep him safe from grasping hands and clamping jaws. All because of the Ward he insisted they fight behind, one that muddied the waters of the Spirit world and made it difficult for those slivers of Wendisa to control their shells. Inside the Ward, they were still as fast as the Zombies were outside, but their thoughts slowed and movements grew awkward and ungainly again, with wide, exaggerated swings and big, chomping bites. They moved like birds after feasting on fermented bapples, all groggy and muddled and unable to fly straight, allowing Howie to deal deathblows to every shell that stepped within his reach.

Shells that kept the shards of Wendisa trapped, alongside the captured slivers of Spirits passed. When the battle was over and won, Elodie could then lay those Spirits to rest and destroy the shards of Wendisa holding them prisoner, for then and only then would they deal a blow that the Great Enemy would not quickly recover from.

Pleased to see that Howie had listened to her explanation and understood why she must sing for the dead, Elodie bounced in joy as they struck out at the Zombies. Little Claw bounced with her, for she too liked Howie who gave her so many very good things to eat, though she did not much care for the bathing and washing. Their thick fur was very good at keeping water out, but not so good as to keep them dry when swimming, and once damp, it would take very long to dry out again. Howie did not know though, and Elodie had convinced Little Claw to try the bath because they were oh so very warm and relaxing.

The battle was not won yet however, so Elodie focused on the battle once more. Just in time too, as she spotted a Ghoul lurking amidst the shambling horde make ready to pounce. From outside the Ward no less, throwing harmful Magics of Fear and Bane to frighten and shake their will, and Elodie would not stand for it. Little Claw knew how to disperse the Fear, to shake it off without ever allowing it to touch her, and she did so time and time again as the Ghoul sought to scare them off. The Ward also did much to blunt the Ghoul's dark magics, and to counter the Bane, Little Claw shook her body and squeaked out a battle cry to Bless her friends and bolster courage. The Ghoul shrieked to see its magics countered so, but it dared not face Elodie and Little Claw both. Instead, it bounded forward and leaped into the air, hurtling forward with clawed fingers outstretched.

Not to strike at Elodie and Little Claw with her thick fur, strong hide, and powerful defensive Spells, or at Howie who was quick to dart back and out of the way, but for poor, sweet, soft Cowie who was breathing a gout of flame at the targets before him and unable to dance away.

Luckily Elodie was paying attention, as she darted forwards to slam her talons down and pin the Ghoul to the wooden logs underfoot. Monsieur Askefjord was not so quick to react and shot his gun into their elbow, but he did not mean to. The solid beam of Force hurt so very much, but Elodie grit her teeth and had Little Claw do the same as they held their prey in place for Howie to dispatch. And dispatch it he did, sending his whip and club over their talons to smush the Ghoul's head into paste, while Monsieur Askefjord stammered an apology that Elodie could not acknowledge because there were still more Zombies to fight.

She would speak with him afterwards and say that it was not his fault. It was a little bit his fault, but also Elodie's for moving in front of his firing arc, so she would not hold it against him.

Little Claw was not so understanding however, and she did not want to play anymore, as she wanted to return to her den to lick her wounds and rest. She was only a cub, so Elodie did not insist, because even if she did, they could not fight with one wounded paw. Returning to her own skin, she placed her foot down on the shaft of her billhook and rolled it towards her, before slipping her toes underneath to kick it up to her waiting hand. Then she made ready to call upon the strength of her Spirits, only to have her arm yanked aside as Monsieur Askefjord appeared with potions in hand. "Show me the wound," he demanded, his brow furrowed and demeanour flustered as he sought to help stem the bleeding which he could not find, for the injury was to Little Claw and Elodie was just fine.

Wildshaping was not the changing of bodies, or even the changing of shells like with the Aberrations before her. Little Claw's flesh was no shell to mask what lay within, but a second skin to slip into and become. Even then, the wound was more in mind and memory, for Little Claw's true body had long since returned to the earth, leaving only her Spirit behind to yearn for life. When Elodie Called upon her friends, they would work together to craft themselves a new body from magic and spirit, so even though they were hurt by Monsieur Askefjord's gun, Little Claw was hale and healthy as a Spirit could be.

Elodie could even call upon her now if need be and craft themselves a fresh new body without injury, though the scared cub might not care to answer. Pain was still pain after all, so she would need time to recover from the scare of it all.

Elodie did not know how to explain all of this, so she simply showed him her arm and said, "It is okay Monsieur Askefjord. Your Blast did hit me yes, but Elodie is not hurt. See?" It took some time for him to accept this, even though the proof was right there before his eyes, and Elodie was worried that Howie's flank would be left unguarded, but Harald shared her worries and called upon more of his magic to direct a Cloud of Flame to keep the Zombies at bay.

Howie was not happy to see this however, as he snarled, "Conserve Spells!" He was not concerned by his exposed flank, so much so that he shifted them back and around to expose it once more while directing Harald to send the billowing flames further out to keep the horde from encircling them. Howie wanted the Zombies to come at them from head on, to move into striking range where he could see them as opposed to attacking him from all sides, and while Elodie could not understand why, she wanted to fight by his side to keep him safe. He had different plans however, as he told her to stay back, and she did not know if this was because he wanted his flank exposed or because he did not know she was uninjured, same as Monsieur Askefjord.

This was not the time for questions however, as Howie was focused on the fight, so Elodie did as she was told and even slipped her dress back on at Monsieur Askefjord's insistence. So silly, all this shame over Elodie's body, but she was not ashamed in the least, only concerned for Howie and Cowie as they fought side by side and left the open right flank for Harald, Astrid, and Monsieur Askefjord to defend. Which they did not do as well as Elodie could, but she held back all the same and waited for her chance to strike, all the while watching the Wendisa as it grew darker and more solid in the skies overhead.

"What do you see, Child of Many Names?" The voice came from right beside Elodie, even though no one was there. She recognized it for Awenasa of the Rain, the witness to her trial who swore to guard her Spirit from the Great Enemy. The woman was very good at hiding, for no matter where Elodie looked, she could find no sign of the woman who truthfully claimed she would not be seen unless called upon to act.

So Elodie called upon her. "Awenasa Ugiga," she said, raising her voice so she could be heard, as she did not know where the Shaper was hiding. "The Great Enemy lies before us. Will you aid us against our foe?"

"No help is required, Child of Many Names," Awenasa of the Rain responded. The others did not know what Elodie was saying, and assumed Elodie was using a Spell, but Awenasa of the Rain said, "Speak with your heart, and you will be heard."

Looking at the Zombie horde before them and the Ghouls lurking within their ranks, then at the Zombies, Ghouls, and Wights laying siege to the wooden walls, Elodie did not agree with Awenasa of the Rain. Help was sorely needed, for though many shells lay fallen and broken, the Wendisa watching over it all was growing in strength and focused that strength upon those Shells which remained. Even Monseigneur Edward Elton of Chelveston, the Sovereign's Talon and Harbinger of the Crown and his two Knights could not cut their way through the wall of flesh surrounding the Wights, powerful shells who launched devastating attacks and Spells at the trio and the fort both. Inside the compound, the Métis braves were scrambling to keep the Zombies off of their walls and just barely eking by, wielding spear and tomahawk with deft skill but not endless stamina.

And though the Great Enemy would lose many shells for it, to Elodie's eyes, it looked as if their defeat would come soon enough without anyone to handle the Wendisa. They were the noble stag, bounding across the plains and forests with its powerful stride, while the Great Enemy played the part of wolf pack running them down. The wolves were many, their energy boundless, and sooner or later, the stag would tire and falter, only for the jaws to close in around its neck so that the pack might feast well.

"You see, but you do not see, Child of Many Names." Though Elodie made no effort to convey that with her heart, Awenasa of the Rain heard it all the same. "Look not with the eyes of a filly, chick, kit, pup or cub. Look not with the eyes of a callow girl either. Look with the eyes of the brave that you are and the eyes of the hatałii you will one day be."

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Elodie did not understand how this was possible, but she looked up at the Wendisa all the same. That was what a hatałii would do, for that was the true Enemy before them here today. Brave or not, there was nothing Elodie could do to stop it though, nothing besides stand and watch as it grew in strength and presence.

"What do you see?" Awenasa of the Rain asked.

"I see a Herald of the Great Enemy," Elodie replied, for to give voice to its name even in her heart was to give it power over her.

"Wrong, Child of Many Names," Awenasa of the Rain replied. "You see a sliver of a Herald of the Great Enemy. A large sliver, but a sliver all the same."

With that, the pieces all fell into place, and Elodie understood it all. It was the same as what Howie was doing here, only on a much larger scale. Howie sought to draw the Zombies and Ghouls inside of his Ward where he could easily fend them off and destroy them one by one by one. It was working too, for though his left flank was exposed, it was merely a feint, a show of weakness to drive the Great Enemy to act. Even as Elodie watched, she saw a second Ghoul ready to pounce same as the first, except this time she was not there to stop it.

And once again, Howie darted back out of it's reach, leaving Cowie as the only target, but he was also an experienced brave who was cunning beyond his years. As the Ghoul soared through the air, the bull pivoted about and lashed out with his powerful hind hooves, timing it perfectly to pulverize the shell's entire skull and upper body. When the corpse landed atop the logs, Howie gave it an extra whack with his whip and mace for good measure, but the shell was damaged beyond all repair with the sliver still trapped within, and they continued fighting in this manner with their left flank exposed because it meant they knew where all the Zombies and Ghouls would attack from.

In the greater battle, the Métis braves and British Knights sought to do something similar, only their quarry was not these Zombies, lowly Ghouls, or even the powerful Wights. No, their goal was to trap the Wendisa who controlled them all, not just the sliver guiding the actions here on the battlefield. The braves and Knights fought hard, but not as hard as they could, for they were feigning weakness and vulnerability in order to tempt their quarry to appear. And appear it did soon enough, for the gains to be had were dear, and the air thickened and grew cold all around Elodie. That was all the warning she received to say that the Wendisa was here in truth. Not merely a sliver that had grown as large as a branch, but the root and stem of it all, one that was trapped almost as soon as it arrived, for among the Métis braves was a hatałii trained in the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way.

A song and chant sounded out in Elodie's ears, one that had been playing out over the course of the entire battle but only now she could hear it. This was the trap, the net laid to capture this prey, a golden net of invisible light that snapped closed around the Wendisa and prevented it from jumping away. Caught like a fish, it struggled and fought to be free, for it sensed the power lingering within the net and knew that its days were numbered. The hatałii's net had been woven well, thin as a hair and stronger than steel, so it held the Wendisa in place as the braves responded as one to lift their bows and set arrows of light to string. Draw and release, the movements were carried out without hesitation and their aim was true, with ten radiant arrows blessed by the hatałii piercing through the air to strike that which was there but not there.

The Wendisa's death knell was terrifying to behold, a Spiritual attack that washed out over all who stood on the battlefield and shook them to the core. Even with the Ward to blunt its effects, Howie paused in his movements before shaking it off to do battle once more, only now the shells had lost their puppet master. No longer were they imbued with dark magics of speed, strength, and vitality, nor did they move with singular purpose. Instead, they shuffled and shambled about in search of their prey, a pack without cohesion and a flock without aim. Now they were no different from the shamblers they'd been fighting these last few days, meaning that aside from the one remaining Ghoul, Howie could even handle them all by himself if he was so willing.

The others would not give him the chance however, as they all moved as one, following the signal of those blessed arrows of light. No longer did the braves and knights hold back against their foe as they unleashed all manner of Arcane damage upon them. Massive pillars of luminescent Moonbeams shot down from the skies to land amidst the hordes while Elemental Lances of Flame, Lightning, and Acid struck down the Ghouls within the crowd with pinpoint precision. As for Monseigneur Edward Elton of Chelveston, the Sovereign's Talon and Harbinger of the Crown and his two knights, they did what Elodie thought they could not do and charged into the wall of flesh to hack, slash, smash, and stomp their way through the Wights on the other side.

One second, there was a horde of Zombies between the two, and the next, the Zombies were minced meat and the Wights impaled upon the Sovereign's Talon. Why the Monseigneur had his Sovereign's Talon was strange to be sure, but he used it quite well in his fights.

As for Howie? He did a little bit more cleaning up, smacking and chopping fallen Zombies just to be sure they were dead, but he did not look very happy. "Why'd they have to butt in all the way over here?" he grumbled, upset to have his quarry stolen away. "Now how are we supposed to know which kills are ours and which are theirs? Fact is, all this should be ours, because we had it handled, but no, they had to go stickin' their nose in all of my business when they better off handlin' what's on their plate first."

Howie had not known about the plan to draw the Wendisa out, not at first. If he had, he would not have thrown out a Fireball the way he did, for they were to appear weak so that their foe would let their guard down. He realized it soon after though, because he had seen the others fighting and knew they were capable of so much more. That was why he instructed them all to conserve their Spells, because if he had told them to stop entirely, it might well have tipped off the Wendisa to the plot afoot. He was a clever hunter, more experienced than any their age, and he understood the goals of the more experienced hunters even if he didn't know what target they were aiming for.

And Elodie? She'd seen the strength of the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way and yearned to learn it for herself. Mama, she was trained in the Evil-Chasing Holy Way and had taught Elodie some, enough so that she could defend herself and put those slivers of Spirit to rest. That was the purpose of the Evil-Chasing Holy Way, to restore balance after it had been tipped and maintain it after the fact. This was not so for the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way, for theirs was a path of action, like the hunters who cull the herd before it grew large enough to strip the plains bare of all grass and vegetation. Those trained in this way could strike at the Great Enemy directly and free those slivers at the same time, for when the Wendisa was killed and purified, those captured slivers of Spirits contained within also were set free to go on their way.

This was not Elodie's way. All she could do was sing for the Spirits to guide them towards where they needed to go. She could heal that which had been broken, but she could do nothing about the root cause, the Wendisas and worse who profaned these lands with their presence.

"You have eyes to see the Great Enemy," Awenasa of the Rain whispered, still hidden from all eyes, "Should you wish to learn how to fight them, then go to Adsila Ganvgi inside the Compound. Say that her sister of the Storm has sent you, and she will teach you her ways."

Elodie scrunched her nose and made a face. These were only idle thoughts about what she could do, and she had no desire to truly learn the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way. Especially not from one who was not her tribe and had pledged allegiance to the Métis Nation. They did not seem like bad people, but Elodie had no desire to become one of them. She was happy with her tribe and would stay with them until Howie was ready to join them or bring her away as his wife to start a family together.

This was the Path she'd chosen for herself, the Path of a Shaper, and eventually, a wife and mother.

Or perhaps not of a Shaper. To be a Shaper was to share your Path with the Spirits of those who still clung to life and regret, but the vision the Sun Keeper showed her opened her eyes to the truth. She had no Path to share, and instead the Spirits shared their Path with her, but that was no true Path, walking trails others had already blazed until she reached their end. She had come all this way to find her own Path, one she believed brought her closer to Howie, but now she saw a different Path, that of the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way, and she must choose which Path she wanted to pursue.

It did not take much effort to decide, as Elodie did not want to stay in the Deadlands. That was what she would have to do, to learn from this Adsila of the Wind, Storm Sister to Awenasa of the Rain. As nice as it would be to learn how to deal a deathblow to the Great Enemy and hunt alongside Howie, she could ask this Adsila of the Wind to teach her the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way some other time if he decided hunt here more often. Elodie would much rather continue learning the Evil-Chasing Holy Way from Mama in order to bask in the joys of life and share this with the Spirits who refused to pass on until their regrets were no more. There was much good to be done in following the Shaper's Path, much that she could do for these Spirits to keep them from becoming Chindi, vengeful spirits with unresolved issues who poisoned the lands and minds of all who dwelled nearby. That was why she asked Mama to teach her the Evil-Chasing Holy Way, so that she could mend those who would not answer her call, a Path Elodie much preferred to hunting these sad grounds and seeing so much suffering here in the Deadlands.

That was the crux of the issue. Elodie knew not what her future would hold, whether she would return home to stay with her own tribe, or leave with Howie to start a new tribe and family together. Though she very much wanted to go with Howie, he had not agreed to take Elodie as his wife, so she would be patient and wait until she was certain of her future, one way or another.

Even the possibility that Howie might not want her as his wife made Elodie very sad as she worked alongside him to line up the shells of the trapped Spirits so she could sing for them. There were very many shells to line up, so many she did not have enough herbs to render into ash, but Cowie led her to several nearby patches to help her stock up on supplies. Then she sang for the Spirits of the dead, sang to see them off so that they might continue their journey in hopes of one day being whole again, and Howie stayed with her the whole time. They were not husband and wife, but they were pack, and he would protect her as the leader protects his young. She was not his cub though, did not want to be treated like one, but he saw only the pup and not the mate she yearned to be.

"You yearn for him to see the woman you will be," Awenasa of the Rain said, still reading Elodie's heart even though their conversation had ended. "He sees only the girl that is, Child of Many Faces."

Meaning Elodie must show him that she was worthy of being his mate, of leading the pack alongside him. Sound advice, but she still did not want to stay in the Deadlands, for it was a bleak and cheerless place that made her oh so very sad. The sun never wholly shone on the lands below, always obscured by clouds and mist. The ground never dried, and the song of the bugs never stopped, while the gators never had anything worthwhile to say as they sunned themselves in the mud. The frogs were mean and ugly; the moths too silly to stay out of the flames, the monkeys rude and filthy, and the snakes quick to anger and quicker to strike with their venomous bite. She did not like it here, not like the forest back home, with so many furred and feathered friends to meet to say nothing of all the delicious treats.

And most importantly of all, home was where her family and friends were, where Howie would be, while here in the Deadlands, there were only the Soulless and heralds of the Great Enemy. A foe who would not easily be felled, for though Adsila of the Wind had purified the Wendisa so that it would never walk these lands again, this was but one soldier in the army of the Great Enemy who threatened all tribes.

This Elodie thought about, this and so much more as she weighed the Path she desired and the Path laid out before her. There was still much to be done, and Howie busied himself cooking the shells inside of the compound they had just defended, so Elodie sat with Chrissy and watched him work. Him and everyone else in the compound, for today's battle had not been an easy one. Some lives had been lost among the Métis contingent, whose braves were escorting a group carrying supplies to one of their outposts so deep in the Deadlands. They had been ambushed by the Great Enemy whose forces had laid in wait deep under the earth and surfaced from the muddied swamp only after the convoy was surrounded. The braves fought fiercely to break free of the encirclement and escort the wagons into the waystation here, and were it not for Monseigneur Edward Elton of Chelveston, the Sovereign's Talon and Harbinger of the Crown, then they would have lost many more lives before the battle was won.

As Elodie understood it, Adsila of the Wind set the trap for the Wendisa not because she was greedy for the prize, but because that was the best path towards victory. Had they purified only a sliver of the Wendisa, then another sliver would soon emerge to cast those foul magics again. They were all branches of the same tree after all, so pruning one branch meant there were many more still to be dealt with. By removing the root and stem of the plant, they put an end to the Wendisa that was, and though there were still many branches to be dealt with, those branches were no longer all connected and would need to spend time and energy placing down their own roots before they would be effective again.

A thought that made Elodie even sadder than she already was, for that was so very many slivers of Spirits that were trapped and tormented here in these Deadlands.

She was so sad she had no appetite for eating, so she sat with Chrissy and Astrid without uttering a peep while watching the braves at work. They each had a task, both on and off the battlefield. Some were healers, others cooks, craftsmen, or even simple labourers who washed bloodied clothes. There was not a single idle person in the compound, none save for Elodie and Chrissy, for even Astrid and Harald were of use to their father who helped tend to the wounded with his skills and his potions.

No wonder Howie still saw Elodie as a girl and not a woman. She had no task, no purpose here in this camp. No one expected anything of her, nothing besides to sit and wait until she could be fed and put to bed. That was the role of a child, not a woman standing at her husband's side, so of course Howie only saw the girl that she was. Elodie did not know what woman she would one day be, so how could she expect him to know this too?

Thus, when Howie emerged from the kitchen with a sweet cake filled with yummy fruits and spices, Elodie could not be happy to see it, for it was more proof that he saw her as a girl and not a woman. He even had a small candle to put in the cake, and when he sang her a birthday song, she realized that today was her eighteenth birthday. The twentieth of March was the day she was born, almost a year after the Advent when Papa and Mama stepped through the gate and found one another on the Frontier. Elodie had been looking forward to this birthday celebration, for they never celebrated one's day of birth in the tribe, and Howie had promised they would celebrate. She'd forgotten all about it in the days since, for here in the Deadlands, there was no good cheer to be found. Only pain and suffering and harsh realities, as Elodie stared into the burning candle and saw the child that she was, the Child of Many Faces and no Path before her.

"Make a wish," Howie said, looking oh so very sweet and concerned as he held the cake up for Elodie. "Then blow out the candle, and maybe it'll come true. Don't tell anyone what your wish is though. Gotta keep that a secret."

A child's fancy, but Elodie was a child in heart, so she smiled sweetly for what he had done and blew out the candle on her cake. It was still a sweet gesture, and he could not be blamed for seeing only what she showed him, so she enjoyed the celebration for what it was. Her eighteenth birthday, one that marked her as a child no more in the eyes of law, though that had little to do with truth and reality. She ate her cake with great delight, and danced with Howie and Astrid while Chrissy played songs that lifted the moods of everyone in the compound. Many sang and danced alongside them, and Elodie had so very much fun, for this was her first ever birthday party and one she celebrated alongside friends and pack.

Howie was very sweet too, for he had noticed Elodie was so very sad and was working very hard to cheer her up. So much so that when they sat down together towards the end of the night, he let Elodie sit in between him and Chrissy so she could feel safe in the centre with loved ones on both sides. Chrissy leaned in to snuggle, while Howie offered his shoulder for her to rest on, and Elodie hugged his arm and sighed as she did just that.

"I am very happy," she declared, and Howie smiled to hear it. Chrissy was happy too, and she slipped her hand into Elodie's, where they shared warmth and love together beneath the starry night sky. No more needed to be said, but Howie was one to talk and even ramble if given the chance.

"I'm happy you're happy, Ella-dee," Howie said, still saying her name wrong but only as a joke. Elodie did not understand why he found it so funny, but she did not mind so long as it was him. "Was worried there for a bit, especially after you took that hit. Scared me somethin' fierce it did, so it's good to know even a compressed Blast can't do all that much damage to you. Still gotta watch those lanes of fire girlie, because even if you can tank a shot from the Whumper, I can't imagine it was any fun."

"It was not," Elodie affirmed, and he smiled his warm smile and pat her hand twice. He did not hug her or slip his arm around her waist, just sat there and let her lean against him. Though Elodie should be content with this much, she was greedy and wanted more, but knew he would not offer it. For many reasons, not just because he saw Elodie as a child to protect. He was also protecting himself, because he still hurt from the loss of his beloved Josie and refused to properly grieve her. He clung to his pain like a wet blanket in a snow storm, unaware that it would sap away his body's heat and leave him worse than without.

That was what he desired though, to feel that cold and the pain, because he worried that without it, he would not remember the love and grief he so keenly felt. He had lost so much in life, and had gotten over much of his grief, but with these new wounds, he worried he had little more to lose, so he clung to it all the tighter. This was the child in Howie, the only way in which he ever allowed himself to be weak and vulnerable, because it was the only way he knew how.

That was why he would need a strong mate, someone to stand alongside him through the cold and pain. Elodie could not do that as she was, and she could not lift his grief with her good cheer. She could keep it at bay and brighten his mood for a bit, but when left to his own devices, he sought out the pain once again. That was who he was, the man he chose to be, and though Elodie wished to change him, she had no right to do so, no more than he had any right to ask her to change either. He never did though, because he trusted her enough to bring her along as she was, and never took her to task for not doing her part. She had come here to help him, to protect him, to guard his flank and his back, but he spent more time guarding hers and was upset at himself for allowing her to take injury.

Even though it was partially Elodie's fault, and a little bit of Monsieur Askefjord's too.

"I will not make this mistake again," Elodie said. For many reasons, but mostly because she realized Howie did not need her to guard his flanks, not as he was. He was better off without her, for she was an untrained child, one with strength enough, but no idea how to use it. Nor did she have reason to learn before, because she had Mama, Papa, and the rest of the tribe to protect her, and while Howie had people protecting him, he still sought out danger all by his lonesome for some strange reason Elodie could not fathom.

So she asked him, "Howie, why do you hunt? Money yes, training yes, but there are better ways, non? Why do you go on journeys by yourself and risk life and limb to do this, when you could do almost anything else?"

Howie tensed to hear it, then relaxed as he sensed the fear hiding under Elodie's curiosity. "Well," he began, drawing out the word over several seconds so he could find the proper words to answer. "It's simple really. Some people are farmers. Other builders. Still more are providers. Teachers. Healers. Helpers. Me?" Howie shrugged and leaned over to touch his head to hers. "I'm a fighter. A soldier. A hunter. That's what I do best, what I enjoy most, and what gets me the most value out of my time and effort, so why do anything else?"

Elodie nodded in thought while hearing the truth in his words. "I see." This was the Path Howie chose long ago, one he would never stray from, and one Elodie would never be suited to join him on so long as she stayed on her current Path.

There it was. The answer she did not know she was looking for, for though she did not want to stay here in the Deadlands, she saw a Path to strength laid out before her, and realized she truly desired to walk it. Not because Howie wanted it for her, or because one of her Spirits desired it. Nor was she doing this solely for Howie, so that he would see her as a woman instead of a child. No, Elodie wanted this for herself, because sad as the Deadlands made her, Howie's words were spoken true. He was a brave, while Elodie had it in her to become hatałii, one who could train in both the Evil-Chasing-Holy Way and the Enemy-Ghost-Capturing Way.

And perhaps one day, she might even take part in the war against the Great Enemy and help remove this foothold here on the Frontier.

Her decision made, she looked up at Howie's expression and asked, "Will you come to the Deadlands again?"

Howie grimaced to hear it, and stayed very silent for a minute. "I don't know," he eventually said. "Zombies are a decent payday and much easier to kill than an Orc, but things get a whole lot muddier when you factor in Ghouls, Wights, and whatever magics there be that make them all strong and speedy. I can take on a Ghoul by its lonesome, but if I run into one with a pack of super-fast Zombies, then I'm pretty much cooked. Can't outrun them, not on foot in these swamps, so I'd have to stand and fight every single time, and sooner or later, the odds might well catch up with me."

Elodie was very sad to hear this, because it did not seem likely for him to return, as these lands were far too dangerous for a pack of two. He was not finished speaking though, so she stayed silent and listened as he said, "Might be different if I could pick up some Radiant Spells though. Like them arrows they shot up into the air to disperse whatever it was bolstering them Soulless Abby on the ground. Now there's a trick I'd like to learn. Make fighting those groups a little easier if they wasn't all speedy and strong." Then he smiled, met her eyes, and said, "Don't you worry though Ella-dee. If you don't want to come back, then you don't have to. Was nice havin' you here to help me out, but once I got the hang of things, I got no qualms about goin' solo. Fact is, I'm feelin' pretty good about it already, so if you want, I can bring you back to Stillwater and you can stay there for a few days with Chrissy. How's that sound?"

Chrissy did not want to go back, but she was too polite to say as much, and Elodie did not want to go back either. Nor did she want to be a burden to Howie, so she shook her head and said, "I do not want to go back to Stillwater. I want to go ask Adsila of the Wind to teach me her ways, so our paths may part ways here."

Howie blinked in surprise and did not say anything, but she read the concern on his face. He did not dissuade her though, ask if she was sure or say that it was dangerous. He only paused for a long second, then nodded and asked, "If that's what you want? Then you got my support. You eighteen now, so ain't nothin' wrong with joining up with the Pathfinders. Considered it myself for a time, though I don't really speak French all that good and hear they pay taxes out the wazoo."

Elodie smiled, because he did not speak English very well either, but it was part of his charm. "I will go ask," she said, bravely going in to plant a light kiss on his cheek before walking away, and when she looked back with a smile, she saw him watching her leave with a sad, concerned look on his face. It was almost enough to make her turn around and go back to his side, but she could not stay a filly, chick, kit, pup, cub, or girl any longer. Not anymore, because she had found her Path, one that might well bring her away from his side today, but one she would ensure would bring her back to his side again.

And perhaps when they met again, she would no longer be a child to coddle and protect, but an equal to stand alongside, or maybe even a partner to love and adore.

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