[piosenniel]

'She should be there by now.' thought Pio. She looked toward the North and wished that she were there with her. Bird would protect her, she knew that. Though the nagging feeling of unease she felt was not allayed by this assurance to herself.

It was hot out on deck, the sun blazed brightly overhead. She had stripped down to a lightweight, no-sleeved shirt and a pair of short breeches, and bound a rolled up cloth about her head to keep the sweat from her eyes. Her arms and legs glistened with it as she practiced with her blade and knives. She was alone now. The others had earlier begged off any further sessions with her when her blade had left them sore and bruised as she put them through their paces. Even Khelek, whose skill was improving, had cried it quits when she knocked his legs from beneath him with a sweep of her leg, and placed the flat of her blade against his throat. 'Unfair!' he had shouted at her, flat on his back. 'It will be no fair contest when we enter the caverns!' she had answered him, extending her hand and pulling him to his feet. 'No game played by fair rules. You must seize the advantage as it comes to you, by any means.'

Tchunk! Tchunk! Tchunk! Her knives hit the mast squarely as she moved around it, moving further and further back at each revolution. Right hand, then left hand, then both hands - drawing the knives quickly from her baldric and sending them deep into the wood.

She had stopped, run out of knives to throw, for the moment, and was pulling them from the wood, when a voice spoke from behind.

'I think the mast is well and truly dead, Elf. Don't you?' Pio laughed and turned round to see Angara. 'It will be dead when I say it is dead, Wyrm!' she answered, stepping a far distance away from it, and readying herself for another round. Angara scurried beyond the perimeter of the throws and waited for her to finish.

'Come sit in the shade with me for a while.' offered the dragon as the last knife found its mark. Pio pulled her blades from the mast and sat down next to Angara, wiping her face with her shirt, and sighing loudly.

'You do realize you scared the rest of the crew with your sword play this morning? A little rough with them weren't you?. Most of them are afraid to come on deck right now, knowing that you're up here.' The dragon looked closely at Pio. There was no answer from the Elf whose eyes stared north, only another long sigh.

'Have you talked with Mithadan, as I asked you to?' said Pio, changing the subject. The dragon assured her she had. 'And have you bent your stiff neck and offered him some remainder of your old friendship?' It was the dragon's turn to be silent now. 'I thought not.' the Elf murmured. She held Angara's gaze, saying, 'I would have it so, old friend. Before we enter into battle against a new foe. Will you do that for me? I would have you both at my side, and not at odds.' Angara laid her head against the Elf's belly, and sighed.'So be it!' she said softly.

'Then you are sworn?' said Pio. 'Yes, Piosenniel, I am sworn.'

She watched as Pio resumed her practice. A dangerous and determined light shone in the Elf's eyes. 'She has plans!' Angara thought to herself. 'Perhaps I had better apprise my "new friend" that she bears close watching.'

[ October 06, 2002: Message edited by: piosenniel ]