Trees blended together in one continuous dark landscape as Xanthy and June darted through the night. That thing bounded after them, roaring like a drunk Noble in the breeding stables. The ground shook with each step it took.

"What in Rudik's ass is that?!" Xanthy screamed at June who ran a few paces ahead of her.

"Spawn of the devil? Ah, I do not know!" June yelled back. "Where did it even come from?"

"You are asking me?" Xanthy's reply was drowned out when a booming bleat slammed into her ears.

Fog blurred most of her view. They seemed to be going east, following the curving path of flat land. To Xanthy's left, the earth sloped upward in a steep incline. Shadowy trees peppered the mass of rocks, soil, and grass and reached up towards the greenish sky.

The dirt was compact and soft underneath Xanthy's soles. She doubled her speed to match June's. Xanthy risked a glance and narrowed her eyes against the dim moonslight. White fur hung in matted locks down the creature's body and brushed the ground as it ran. Two curved horns jutted and curled from the creature's head, complimenting the menacing green eyes amplified by the greenish skin.

It's a sheep, Xanthy thought as an image of the fluffy animals grazing on the empty field between the Disfavoreds and the Commons popped in her mind. Then again, sheep weren't meant to be as big as houses. Nor were they meant to have teeth as long as Xanthy's palm.

The sheep opened its jaw and out came a screeching bleat that threatened to make Xanthy's eardrums erupt. She pressed her hands at the sides of her head and she was reminded yet again of the change in her body.

Could this day get any worse?

Turns out, they could. June whipped backwards and barked a string of words too fast for Xanthy to catch. From his hand, twin bursts of magical light speared towards the creature. Xanthy pumped her fist in the air as the spell set off on the creature's hide. A pained shriek emanated from the stirred up fog.

June caught up to Xanthy and they slowed down. Both of them looked back. The fog hissed as it gave way to the same set of green eyes.

June cursed like a businessman. "They are immune to magic? Unbelievable."

Bile rose to Xanthy's throat as they turned to run. "I am going to try to summon my magic," she shouted to June. "Perhaps I can do it."

"Negative," June rasped, looking back briefly. "That was one of my strongest attacks and it did not even faze that thing. Unless you got the Virtakios or something, you would not make a dent either."

Xanthy had no idea what in the world a Virtakios was so she inclined her head at the sloping mass of land. "Fly?" she suggested.

"That creature might be sensitive to foreign magic," June replied. "We do not want to attract more of them."

The image of a hundred house-sheep bearing down on her took over her mind. Yeah, that didn't look good. She shook her head. "Can we try to tame it?"

"I remember them now," June skirted around a tree that might have smacked Xanthy in the face. "You did not tell me that the forest in the Disfavoreds was part of Asopus."

"What does that even mean?" Xanthy demanded, slapping a low-lying branch out of the way. "Speak in Ylanenla!"

"Do you even know what the most common thing here is?" June tore at his hair in frustration. "Graspel. Flesh-eating sheep."

Oh.

June's expression was grim. "There is no taming them."

A sickening sound of a trunk snapping whizzed to Xanthy's ear. A tree slammed into the ground. She yelped and covered her head with her hands as branches snapped and pelted her. Her feet took her straight into a thick bunch of upright trunks. The sheep would have a hard time reaching her here.

She panted as her chest heaved to catch her breath. She looked around her immediate scene. June. Where was he?

Xanthy squeaked as she peered from her hiding place and past the clearing, there was June. He was scrambling back with his hands and his rear, looking up at well...the flesh-eating sheep.

Oh, gods.

Xanthy pressed herself against her trunk again. She prayed to every god she knew of for all of this to be just a nightmare. When she didn't wake up back at her house, she slapped her temples.

"Okay, okay," she muttered to herself. What else did she have with her? Clothes. Boots. Branches. Leaves. Trees. Fog.

Branches.

Xanthy's breath hitched as she snatched a broken branch as thick as her three fingers combined from the forest floor. Her fingers clenched around it as she steeled her nerves.

"Uh...Xanthy?" June called. "Any time now."

Xanthy whimpered. She would really die today. Her heart sank with guilt. June saved her from the Civil Guards earlier. Without him, she wouldn't even survive getting past the border. Besides, who would give her her house when all of this was over?

House. House. I will get a house after this. Xanthy chanted it to herself like a poorly-written mantra. It did nothing to calm her beating heart. June needed her.

With a scream, Xanthy burst from her hiding place right as the sheep lunged for June's face. "Hey, fluffbutt!" she called and let the branch fly.

Time slowed as her eyes tracked the branch's trajectory. Then, it thumped noiselessly against the creature's fur then fell to the ground with a weak clatter. Xanthy took a step back and grimaced. Oh, no.

The creature trained its beady green eyes at her and bleated. Xanthy was sure she skidded a few inches backwards from just the volume of the voice. Her ears rang. Then, the creature lowered its head to the ground and charged.

Well, at least it forgot June.

Xanthy rolled aside and the sheep barreled straight through the trunks in one resonant crunch. The creature roared. Its feet pawed uselessly as it tried to extract its horns stuck in between the trunks.

Xanthy jogged to where June was and helped him up. June smiled at her but ultimately died as the creature threw its head back and snapped the trunks in half. That motion sent a torn half of a tree speeding towards the both of them.

A whimper broke free from Xanthy's lips as she scampered away. The tree slammed into its brothers at the foot of the incline. Leaves rustled and birds squawked in anger before flying into the dark night.

Xanthy's breath didn't quite reach her lungs as she whirled to come face to face with the sheep. Up close, it's even more terrifying. Those green eyes held such intensity that could make a grown man wet his britches. The creature snapped its jaws open, giving her a view of at least four rows of sharp teeth and an experience of what corpses mixed with embalming herbs smelled like.

She curled into a ball, closed her eyes, and waited to be torn apart. One. Two. No pain.

Slowly, she untangled her limbs and blinked at the wreckage of trees. What happened?

A hand was extended towards her and she took it. Xanthy came face to face with a person that didn't make sense.

The new person smirked. "Nice throw."

Xanthy pinched herself. This dream was becoming weirder and weirder. Now there were butterflies as big as humans too? What was next? Vulkraine the size of the Palace?

"...around these parts," the newcomer was saying with a voice carrying a feminine vibe. Xanthy noted light brown skin, golden hair sheared up to the ears, and the orange-and-black, blanket-like wings folded by the creature's back. Mismatched eyes flicked to Xanthy's direction, giving her a glimpse of purple and teal gems sparkling in the moonslight.

June was dusting his cloak of tree needles as he nodded to what the butterfly said. "I figured," he nodded curtly. "What is a varichria doing all the way here? You are on the wrong side of Cardina."

Varichria? Apparently, it's what these creatures were called.

The varichria crossed her arms, her arm greaves clacking against her bark chestplate. Oh, they have armor, too?

"Well, thanks for dealing with the sheep," June wiggled his fingers in front of him as if checking if he still had them all. "We could not have done it ourselves."

The varichria palmed the pommel of a sword sheathed by her hips. "I merely stunned it. It is bound to wake up soon," she toed the creature breathing shallowly by their feet. Xanthy's throat tightened. She relaxed when the sheep didn't budge.

"I have a shack not far from here," the varichria offered. "Kym would not mind having a few people over for the night."

Xanthy cleared her throat. "We really should get going," she smiled. "But thank you."

"Let me guess," the varichria propped her hand on her hip. Xanthy felt a twinge of envy at the shiny, knee-high boots decorating the varichria's feet. "Fugitives? There are quite a lot of those passing here on the way to Gulstead."

June chuckled. "No, not fugitives," he edged towards Xanthy. "We should go. There is a cart to catch up with our aunt by the Magic Road. We do not want to miss it."

Xanthy whirled to June. What nonsense was he speaking? They didn't have an aunt! June elbowed Xanthy and disguised it as a motion to scratch the back of his neck. She clamped her mouth shut. That's smooth.

The varichria nodded. "If that is the case, then take this," she removed from her neck a pendant glowing with an ethereal blue light. She presented it to Xanthy.

Xanthy peered at it. "Will it explode on my face?"

The varichria laughed. "You are funny for a fairy," she shook her head. "No, it is a cloaker. Poachers will claw their way towards you if you keep walking around with a trail like that."

"Trails again?" Xanthy's eyebrows met as she frowned at the varichria. "And I am not a fairy. Are varichrias fairies?"

"Why, yes. We are," the varichria answered, pushing the pendant into Xanthy's grip. "Consider that as a gift from me."

"But why?" Xanthy searched the mismatched eyes for anything. The steel-like sheen in them revealed nothing.

The varichria shrugged. "That was a nice branch throw," she blew a strand of hair off her face. "Well, I wish you luck with your aunt," she gave a small wave.

The varichria turned and started walking west.

"Hey, um, what is your name?" Xanthy blurted.

The varichria turned and smiled. "Reeca."

Reeca. It's a name Xanthy would try to remember forever.

"Oh, by the way," Reeca paused to tap a finger to her chin. Then, she pointed vaguely to Xanthy's direction. "That cloaker only works for one person. If you need to hide the two of you, skin-to-skin contact is the key."

Xanthy glanced at June and winced. Eugh. Okay, scratch that. She won't remember the varichria's name forever. No.

Xanthy whirled to call Reeca back, to demand she give them another cloaker, but all she found were a snoring graspel and the fog obscuring the clearing they curbed on the heart of the forest.

"So..." Xanthy whipped to June. He flashed her a sheepish grin and offered his hand. The image of her gritty nails flashed in her mind and she shook her head to erase it.

"Come on," June jerked his head to the east. "We have got our aunt's cart to catch."

"I hate my life," Xanthy muttered as she followed June into the forest with only the moons for company.