[Sytze]

“Shht.”

“What is it?” Amara inquired softly. Sytze had covered his lips with his forefinger and gestured the druid to stop and stay low. He gazed in the distance and brought his hands above his eyes, squinting. The setting sun shone brightly upon the forest and troubled the archer’s vision heavily, though it did not make it an impossible view. In the far distance he could see a few distinct figures, the shining sun on their dirt covered armour giving them away.

“For as far as I can make anything of it, I am guessing a couple of orcs,” he replied, breathing heavily. Yesterday, they had left the druid grove with all haste and had only taken the utmost necessary supplies, including food and water. Although it had replenished some of his energy, he still felt exhausted. The last days were an endless run and sleep had not come easily to the hunted rogue. Now, after travelling more than an entire night, his legs felt heavier and heavier, occasionally getting cramps. He had tried to cover his pains by stopping and then acting as if he saw something suspicious, turning his face away from Amara’s. Whether or not it had fooled her, he did not know. She hadn’t made any comments at any rate.

“I thought you knew where all the orcs where camping at?” Sytze muttered irritated. He really couldn’t contemplate the possibility of a fight right now: it would only weaken him further.

“I… I am not sure where they came from,” Amara answered, a slight surprised tone apparent in her voice. “They weren’t camping there when I came past here a while ago. They could have possibly branched from the major sector to the East, or maybe even…” Sytze finally tuned her ramblings out. She continued on even without his attention, utterly baffled, for when she had come upon this place a few days ago while on her way to inform Faldorn of the events going on farther south, there were no traces of orcs camping or moving around in this part of the woods.

When she was able to conclude she had no idea where the orcs had originated, she returned her mind to the present. “How many are there? What are your intentions? Do you want to fight them?” she asked inquisitively, throwing a wide arsenal of unanswerable questions at the young man.

Sytze turned around swiftly, eyes wide open. Amara didn’t know the rogue very well, but she could’ve sworn traces of panic were showing on his face. “No way!” he replied, almost screaming. “I’ve no idea how many there are. Besides…,” he moved around again to face to orcs, “the less attention drawn to us, the better. For both your goal and mine,’ he murmured as an afterthought, suddenly all too aware his last sentence was quite audible in the quiet.

Amara, noticing the surprised look his face, decided to make a mental note of that last piece of information he had so carelessly tossed her way. She was intrigued by this mysterious man who had appeared out of nowhere yesterday and whose goals where, for the most part, a mystery. While she was so preoccupied with her own thoughts Sytze drew his cloak tightly around his body and slipped his hood over his head, walking away from the druid.

“Where are you going?” Amara asked abruptly when she saw the rogue slowly move away from her, her big blue eyes looking at him, questioningly.

“To scout the surroundings. I need to know how many there are and if we can easily avoid these creatures,” he declared as if it were obvious. He then stepped towards a large bush, finding his way trough the branches and twigs remarkably easy. Amara tentatively watched him leave, not really sure if she should stop him or allow him to do as he wished. Finally, she decided to let him go, doubtful she’d be able to stop him anyway. The man had a mind of his own.

It was only a few moments later that she heard him again, though the sounds of his voice were all she received from his presence. She hadn’t an idea of whether he was near her or not because the rogue himself was nowhere in sight.

“Just stay here, alright? You’ll be safe where you are,” Sytze whispered, a little haughtily. He had come back, afraid as he was that he hadn’t left clear enough instructions.

Amara threw a suspicious glance at the direction she though the voice was coming from. “I had no intention of moving from here,” she returned, somewhat indignantly, “But in the future I would ask you to address me more like if you were my guardian, not my baby sitter.”

Sytze grinned inwardly. “As you will have it, milady. I am simply concerned about your well-being.”

You just had to add that last part, didn’t you? Amara thought at him in response to his smug demeanour.

“As it should be,” she said simply, “That is, after all, why you’re my escort. Should I define the word?”

Sytze opened his mouth to snap something back at her, but saw a slight smile luring in the corners of Amara’s mouth and decided to let it go. There would be opportunities enough for discussions and matches of quick wit. Amara, meanwhile, waited for a reaction but got nothing but silence as an answer. The wind and the trees were her only listeners. Sytze had already left.

Only a few minutes later did she hear the sounds of footsteps and branches being tugged aside, followed by Sytze’s heavy breathing. “I’ve found a safe route,” he gasped, his chest heaving greatly.

“From your state it sure doesn’t seem ‘safe’,” Amara replied worriedly, her eyes moving over his body evaluating, looking for possible injuries. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” he nodded a little hesitantly, but he knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t be fine. The scouting and hiding had cost him more energy than he’d expected. His body was burning up from the inside, and his mind was racing to keep hold of its concentration. Oh, how he wished he could simply lie down and not get up for the next couple of hours. But that was unrealistic at best. He couldn’t rest here and he knew that perfectly well. Resting this close to an orc camp was asking for trouble. Sytze took a deep breath and tried to focus his energy. They needed to walk for at least another two hours; they needed to get away from this place. He grabbed his pack and gestured Amara to follow him, slowly and silently.

The druid watched him suspiciously. Amara had eyed the rogue cautiously ever since he had come back from his little scouting trip. He looked like hell when he’d returned and she feared he was ready to collapse on the spot. Grabbing her leather bag of maps – on which she had encircled certain parts, indicating orcish presence -, she silently followed him, keeping her comments to herself. For now.

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