#baronyofthesilverwolf

"Nae ill-wrought beast or kin with heart of fomor, blood foul dark with... with..." He tries to remember the actual phrasing. "I should have brought the book. I knew I should have brought the book."

"Oh." He Steps closer to Gwen.

The Tiger growls once more, and paces. Finally, it speaks in a rumbling tone. "I am no trickster, though I would gladly have you trick yourself into dinner. Stand back, Stone Warrior. There is something I would see."

He paces, trying to glimpse the Nocker behind the massive troll.

"You may not have her, nor any of us, Great Cat. I am a Dairaenn, she is my ward. I am a troll. She is my charge. Do you understannd what that means?"

An excited whisper. "It talks!"

"Are you a Goblin, to be a creature of such greed? A BEACON that calls me, sweeter then blood on the snow." He lifts his head and sniffs the air, rumbling with growls. "Ward, Charge, have you no speech of your own, come, run with me, we shall bound through the snow." His voice, smooth as silk, though velvet growled.

Thistle peers around Gwen, her neon-cerise hair standing out vividly against the snow.

"You get a Tiger?! Thistle, I think you get a tiger!" Art breathes, excitedly.

The Tiger takes a step closer, up to the edge of the path, blinking slowly.

Rochallor says "People always tlell the truth"

Thistle drifts closer!

And getts BLOCKED as Thistle acts as a wall again "Thistle, dammit!"

"It's so cool, Gwen!"

"Fantastic." Art says.

As Gwen moves again to get in the way, SWISH, the hooking paw misses Thistle, and thuds against Gwen instead. Where it might have swept a light creature like the Nocker right off the path and into the snowdrifts around, instead it just thuds against her side.

A HISS.

Followed by.... ZIP! ZAP! BZZ! CHIME!

Not one, but FOUR nevers zip forward! One grabs each of the Tiger's ears! Another Tugs (quite uselessly) at it's Tail! The Last flies right into his face, berating the creature in high-pitched, angered tones!

"Hey! Guys! Don't, it could bite you!"

Gwen stabs forwarrd at the tigeer with a spear

Where each of the Never's touched... color spreads! It's paw that batted against Gwen is still silvery-white, but now with a deep hue of Dairrean green.

One ear is ocre red! The tail is prussian blue! The other ear is schiaparelli pink! And now, a splash of citrine yellow across his forehead around the eyes, where he is being battered at with the tiniest of fists!

And then the spear hits, and - well, the troll whacked with the blunt edge of the spear, and not the blade - so rather than blood, a dark brown that matches the well-polished wood across his nose, because it is on this sensitive part of the anatomy that he is WHACKED!

A yowl, that sounds more like it would befit a tomcat who was splashed with water (though MUCH louder), and it bounds off into the woods!

She extends her hands towards the buzzing Nevers, worried.

The nevers zip back over to her, chiming proudly!

"And leave Silverwolf people alone or next I'll SKIN You!" She turns to Thistle and Art "You two okay?"

Art is leaning out after the tiger, awed! "Maybe it was just hungry for some color. Thistle IS the most colorful one around!"

"Yes, you were very brave..."

"It tried to swat her off the trod..." She scowls ... "I'm tempted to turn this trip around"

"No, we can't turn back!" Art says! "What great adventures occur where they turn back? What if Frodo had never made it past the shire?"

The quartet of never preen and tinkle happily under Thistle's praise.

"We have to be at least halfway..." Each Never gets a little pat on their tiny head.

One of them PROUDLY presents her with... A WHISKER!

"Fine. You listen to me, all of you, do as I say on this trod or I'll have the darn thing sealed on our end"

Wait, no, not giving it. Now she's using it to tickle the back of Rochallor's neck.

"GAH!" Rochalor laughs then cougghs" Yes, very serious silver"

Art sighs inwardly, but nods. He steps back into line, behind Gwen.

"It was scary, I'm almost sure it eyed MY flanks for a meal" Blossom is sure it wsn't just about thistle

"Yes, ma'am." Thistle doesn't seem to think it was about Thistle.

Onward they walk! Why, nary a scratch on them. It's such that by the time they exit in Missouri, safe and sound, it's only the faintest bothersome twinge that Gwen has that something went awry. But it couldn't have been THAT bad, thought, right? They're all fine!

"Hey, you guys followed me!" Surprise at the quartet.

Gwen blinks a slight frown

They fly around in aerobatical maneuvers, acting out some ballet in the air that ends with them miming battering Art on the nose!

"Ack, hey! What?!"

"Weird little..."

She laughs. "They get ideas."

He laughs, though, even as he waves an arm to shoo them.

"Thank you" She says to the Nevers, not sure why

Zip zip zip! Three of them line up and salute!

One is still exploring the mysteries of Art's inner ear drum.

"That TICKLES!"

"Thistle, you might want to keep them with you. Sir Sergei, he has hawks, doesn't he? HIS birds don't know that nevers aren't for snacking on."

"You hear that?"

Do they ever hear? If they do, do they listen?

Blossom says "I'm going to se Sir Sergei"

"Hear what?" Gwen tries to listen