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After the fires and strange weather across much of the land, Wyrran had tracked a dark colored cervitaur out from first her friend's shack and then later the outskirts of Everpine. The village was large and covered in ruins and the gray equine initially suspected the stranger to have hid somewhere nearby, dealing what trouble he could when her back was turned or her watchful eyes closed, often at night. On other occasions she’d tracked him down to give a piece of her mind, yet he didn’t ever get the picture.  

The cervine man was easily identified, with a gray pelt, mottled with leopard spots, dark points on his legs, and stark red hair. He bore two sets of horns, or rather, horns on his forehead and antlers atop. There was also that strange amulet he wore, pristine gold and looking somewhat like an arrow with a sun behind it. The only thing Wyrran could piece was that perhaps he was tied with the weather, spouting on occasion some nonsense about stopping those looking into the phenomenons. Was that magic or just nature out in force, it all seemed so odd and several villages had befallen the disasters that ensued.  

Kol and Lukkja had been looking into it as well, and the next day they found the woods near their home alight. They’d since moved to a safer area, but the damage was done. She’d found hoofprints around the burned zone as well as their shack, and while both the newcomer Mirror and her adopted son, Tiernan were deer themselves, the prints weren’t theirs and they’d no reason to burn the home they very much appeared to appreciate. She had no choice. Leaving the newest addition to the family with the older deer, a young colt named Feldspar, she set out once again to track down the troublemaker.  

About half a day's walk and she found him hunkering down in some ruins a bit farther from the village, now just a partial wall, a crumbling stairwell and a section of rotten wood as a roof. The trees and plants formed most of the cover, and sitting near a minuscule fire was Hawari. He noticed her far before she made any noise to alert him, something she took note of. He was always vigilant and on guard, but this time instead of having to wrestle him to the ground or fend off knives he didn’t stand to immediately fight her. He probably intended to, but not at the moment.  

“Didn’t I tell you to get out of here?”  

The man would turn his eyes her way, standing then. He had no response for her, but he reached for a knife tied at his side, pulling it from a leather sheath.  

“On with that again? How many times now? Is this  you trying to kill me or are we just having a fun spar?”

“You should stay out of my business.” He warned.

“I would if your business stayed out of mine.” Wyrran wouldn’t take more of his nonsense. He’d assaulted a few people, scared the youngest of her group and even threatened the lives of Kol and her children. Surely he wasn’t aware of the little ones, but regardless, ignorance wasn’t an excuse and if he was to blame for the fires at least, then he needed to be gone.  

Hawari narrowed his eyes, burning bright like the embers of the fire at his feet. A breath later and he was leaping over both the fire and distance between her, a glint of his knife at ready. Wyrran sidestepped, the whistle of the blade filling her ears as he missed her shoulder by a hair.  

This time she wouldn’t be so nice in trying to just pin and disarm him, nor would she fend him off at the point of a spear. Now was time for a swift kick. She’d lash out with her hind legs, intending to give the lean and shorter deer a solid hit to the ribs as he’d followed through his bound. He did not seem to think of the power or range in a horse’s legs, and while abound he couldn’t change his course either. His eyes briefly showed his realization, cut off as her hard hooves cracked into his side, pulling the air from his lungs and sending the man into the rubble.  Wyrran spun around nearly as quickly as she’d kicked him, eyes searching for the blade. It had fallen close to her, well out of reach of the stag. She picked it up, it would make a decent trophy once he was gone and it would keep him from attempting to stab her at every moment in one another’s presence.  

“Any energy you have got left, should be used in leaving this territory. You’re not welcome and if you try anything else, I’ll use your knife against you.” Maybe a more serious wound would paint the picture for him, but she wanted to avoid anything that could bring infection. He was still a living being, but a bruised or cracked rib was easier to heal from, he could travel slowly still. By his adornments he came from somewhere with resources, she was sure he could go back to where he came and then heal. Spending some time to consider his actions as well, but that was a longshot.  

With that she’d give him a final once over, he was practically crumpled over the rubble on his side, but he still had that look in his eyes, like he could set her ablaze. However, he stayed down this time, freeing her from the work of pinning him with her weight and strong legs until he relented. It may have merely been from him trying to regain his breath, but she liked to give some credit. He was smart.  

“Good, have a good night then. Go home in the morning.” She’d flip his blade a bit in hand, admiring the strange symbols etched into it. The sheath was still attached to a leather strap at his side, but she could have something else fashioned for it by Lukkja. With a slight sigh, Wyrran turned to depart, her mind hopeful that this would be the last time they’d lay eyes on each other. Should she see him again in the future, which she hoped was the far far future, perhaps he’d be a better person. Maybe he’d let that fire of whatever it was simmer down, hate, anger, determination, defiance, anything she could think of seemed to fit.

What a strange man and a stranger month…