[PRP] The Night is Dark & Full of Terrors (Inside)

[xo maho]

This is a private roleplay between Ithillún, Tinúviel, Paris, Calixte, Lynnea, and Bedwyr (Mahogany Sunset) & Pachelbel Amachi (Lady Argentum Draconis).
Please do not post without permission.

 

[xo maho]

Lún watched the squirrel with eyes big as walnuts. It was sitting in a tree at the threshold of the forest, daring her to come closer. She could have sworn that it was watching her, too - and she had, several times, sworn it up and down. She knew the creature's schedule: every morning, it would scurry down its tree just after dawn had broken, and run off into the forest. About fifteen minutes later, it would scramble back up the tree, claws scratching at the bark, some kind of flower bulb or nut caught between its front teeth. Its favorite were pine cones, but for some reason, it rarely brought those back. If it did, it would sit up there in its little nest in the hollow part of the tree, munching away at its pine cone like a corn cob. Sooner or later, little petals of bark would rain down over the branches, adding to the red-brown piles at the bottom of the tree. Apparently, the rodent liked to keep a clean nest, even if the tree itself was littered with bits and pieces of old meals and bedding.

Today, though, Lún was determined. Rather than just watch the squirrel, she was going to follow it. It was time to figure out where it got those flower bulbs and put an end to the sad floral carnage. Those flowers needed to bloom, not get eaten! Spring was here, and if Lún could rescue those flower bulbs... Maybe she could start a garden of her own.

So lost in her reverie was she that it took the clatter of toes on bark for her to realize that the squirrel was starting off on its morning venture. She only notice when her ears involuntarily flicked forward. And then she was off after it - though she was quite slow, as the forest was unfamiliar to her, the squirrel was surprisingly slow himself. Every few feet he would pause, look behind him, glare at her, and then he would be off again, his tail undulating as he scampered about. Soon, Lún realized she would only have to walk a few feet every couple moments, and slowed down to take in the scenery.

The forest wasn't scary, like her parents had said. It was pretty. Still grey from the poor dawn light, at least under the canopy, everything had a shadow. Absently, Lún wondered if this was what Ama saw when she talked about the shadows she saw. The trees smelled earthy and strong around her, holding her like her basket once had. Where were the monsters that were supposed to be skulking about? She certainly didn't see any.

Stepping carefully after the squirrel, silent in wonderment, Lún paused to think. What if there are monsters out here? she asked herself. And Mommy and Daddy don't know I'm out here? Turning around, she looked for the Herdlands. They weren't there anymore! How could they disappear like that? Lún was certain she had come from that direction... Suddenly a little frightened, she turned back and looked for the squirrel, only to find that he had disappeared, as well. She had hoped he would lead her back the way they had come - but perhaps he would come back this way?

Worried and hoping that someone had seen her run off, Lún laid down to wait, huddling between tree roots. The squirrel would come back. He had to.

 

[xo maho]

She was munching on her morning meal when the voices whispered to her that something was wrong, something was running off away from the Herdlands. They brought to her the sounds of light footfalls, so faint that they could only belong to a foal, growing fainter as the source vanished into the forest. Tinúviel lifted her head just in time to see the glow of one of her sisters disappearing into the forest. Whether the glow was the pale cream of Ithillún's lilies or the orange of Faun's fire, it was too difficult to tell, but one of them was running off in the direction of the forest - where they were expressly forbidden from going.

Cursing the unthinking filly under her breath, Tin looked around. No one else had seen her leave; most were under the eaves of the meeting tree, setting up the next patrol or gathering for a briefing of some sort. In her next breath, Tin cursed her mother from calling attention away from the borders and not paying attention to her own children, but it was halfhearted; her mother was a busy mare and had other pressing concerns. Lún was likely supposed to be in the custody of a nanny or Enaran for the day, and Faun was usually self-contained enough to not need a guardian... Or was it my turn to watch them? And then she cursed herself, for it was, indeed, her day to watch the young troublemakers. Swallowing one last mouthful of the rich green grass that had begun growing since winter had finally thawed, Tinúviel lunged into a gallop. If she didn't hurry, her ears would lose her sister, and there was no guarantee that the little one would be able to find her way back in the unfamiliarity of the forest.

It seemed like forever before Tin reached the edge of the forest. The trees and brush encroached on the plains of the Herdlands, but they never seemed to get very much further; the Gatherers kept the brush at bay, clearing the bushes and brambles that grew underfoot at the edge to keep the trees accessible in case the herd needed to hide. It would not do for the members to trip and go sprawling in an emergency.

Leaping over roots, Tin paused several yards into the forest. If she went any further, she realized, she would likely veer off in the wrong direction, and every step would increase that chance. Sighing, she realized she would have to call out to get her sister's attention. Though she didn't like to draw attention to herself in these woods - especially since the Vanaras might hear and come running - her ears weren't tuning in to any more footsteps. "Lún! Faun! Whichever one of you is out here, get back here this instant!" she called, looking around and hoping to catch some sort of glow on the edge her vision, whether it be eyes, lilies, or flame, but there was nothing. Not a dang thing.

If I get in trouble for this, she is going to be in deep herself, Tin thought, imagining her parents' reactions. Dad would let it go if nothing happened while they were out here, but Mom would probably give her extra chores or something. Instill you with a better sense of responsibility, as she put it. The thought made her irritated. She might be firstborn, but her mother should know how to handle her rebellious daughter better than that. Whatever, Tin thought. As long as nothing happens and Sis doesn't go ranting about her adventure in the woods, it'll be fine.

It wasn't going to be fine.

 

[xo maho]

Draped comfortably over a tree limb, Paris was asleep. Her dreams made her twitch and shake, but through it all, she stayed asleep. They were haunted with images of a twin long dead to her, males who had given her worthless children, and children with whom she had traded disappointments. Only in her sleep did they mean anything to her - they grew strong horns and hard, calloused hearts, and brought forth the beautiful heirs that would one day usurp her. In her sleep, she was paranoid.

But when she woke up, all her dreams did was make her irritable, and she was already volatile. So when a delicious-looking little filly came to hide beneath her tree, Paris sat up, purring as the sun warmed her back. Her golden eyes examined the foal that lay far below her, sizing her up. If she leaped down on her from above, the little thing would never have a chance.

She pondered the attack for a while more, standing and stretching, raking her claws along the bark of the tree and rippling the sleepy ache from her pelt. The sensation of the pressure against her nail beds felt just as good as stretching did, so she unsheathed her claws and scratched at the tree one paw at a time, leaving deep scores in the wood. Honing her nails to thin points, Paris looked down again. The filly still lay below her, but something had caught her attention - her ears were perked toward some unknown noise.

It was then that Paris heard it: a voice, sweet and young and feminine, was shouting through the forest. Her ears laid involuntarily against her skull. Whomever this mare was, she had intruded upon Paris's hunt, and the skinwalker did not like interruptions. Leaping silently from branch to branch, Paris landed lightly on the one just above the filly's head. When the mare came into sight, she decided, she would allow her to see her query dispatched before killing the intruder for her trouble. And then she would have a nice snack. It had been too long since she had treated herself to rich horseflesh.

Laying down on the branch and lashing her tail, Paris waited for the intruder to appear. This was going to be fun, as long as she didn't get her coat dirty. The river was still ice-cold, and she was not fond of trying to wash blood from her coat and freezing afterward. These deer-soquili were nimble and swift, but they were frail and weak, too. Or at least, so she thought. Surely, it must be so. She could only imagine them dying like a deer, screaming as it tried to run... But she could use the exercise. It would keep her beautiful and healthy.  

[xo maho]

Lún perked up at the sound of her sister's voice ringing through the trees. Tin had seen her! She let out an exhale of relief - she wouldn't have to wait for that squirrel after all. But if that was her sister, she sure needed a bath. Lún wrinkled her nose. She could smell Tinúviel from even this distance, and she smelled like she'd rolled on a skunk and bathed in river slime. Sitting up and supporting the front half of her body weight with her forelegs, Lún called back, "Where are you? I'm over here!" She wasn't about to leave her spot - if Tin was her guardian today and they were already out in the woods, that meant they could play hide and seek!

Grinning at the thought, Lún hopped up, prancing around in a little circle under the tree, completely unaware of the predatory presence above her. It only lasted a few seconds, though, and then another wave of stink hit her and she almost keeled over from the tang of it. That was when she realized that there was no way it was her sister - it smelled like death, like dying, dead, rotten things. Horror and revulsion and fear leapt upon her all at once, and she gagged so hard that she almost wished she could vomit. And that stink, that horrid stink, was wafting down from above her.

Without even knowing what she was doing but somehow regretting the action before even doing it, Ithillún looked up.

And met the golden eyes of a cat the size of a mountain lion. It smiled wickedly down at her, unsheathing and then contracting its claws.

She couldn't even scream. Even her whimper got caught in her throat. She just knew. She just knew.

She was going to die.  

[xo maho]

It was Lún. Lún was the one who had dragged her out here, right in the middle of breakfast, without so much as a "Can we go into the woods today, pretty pretty please?" I mean, seriously, that's all it would have taken, Tin thought to herself. Shaking her head, she let the voices direct her toward her sister. Forward and left, they whispered, hurry, forward and left.

Tin paused. Something about that didn't seem quite right. Hurry? That was a new one. Was there something wrong out here that she hadn't noticed? She tried focusing, but all she got was static and Hurry, hurry, hurry---. Then all at once, it stopped. Lún had gone suspiciously quiet. After a question like "Where are you?", Tin expected at least a "Come play hide and seek with me!" But she'd heard no such thing.

Lurching forward, Tin fought her way through a bush and finally caught sight of the glow she'd been looking for. There was Lún, lilies and eyes and all, but it was strange - she was looking up. Shifting her own gaze up, Tin caught sight of what Lún was looking at, and panic flew through her, its wings brushing her stomach and lungs and heart all at once, before flying out her mouth with a shriek. "No!" she screeched, and something propelled her forward. She should have run, saved herself, but she couldn't. Common sense said she should, but her entire body said move. A shapeless screech tore out of her throat as she flew across open space, over rock and root alike.

This was what she had feared above all else. Her worst nightmare had manifested.

Somehow, she knew that this was no ordinary cat, despite it's unusual size. It smelled familiar, but less foul than the others she had met. Its gaze was bright and predatory, and shifted from Lún to meet Tinúviel's eyes. Something in that golden gaze laughed at her, and something in Tin snapped. She wasn't going to let this one off easy. She was big now, grown up strong and trained well. Whether this one was a wanderer or was the one that she had been smelling since Rishy and Frostbite had run off that day, it would never venture into this forest again. It wouldn't dare, after the beat down she was going to give it. Cursed or pure, it was still smaller than she was, and it wouldn't have time to shift back into its soquili form before she was upon it.

Whatever happened, Tin knew one thing for sure: no skinwalker would ever make a snack of one of her siblings. They had yet to succeed, and they never would. She would make sure of that.  

[xo maho]

Paris would have laughed at the foal cowering beneath her if the intruder had reacted as she had expected. But when their gazes met, the mare shot forward like some kind of hellish projectile, going against the laws of prey and predator. Still, though, Paris's paw made a single stroke downward, claws extended, reaching for the warm throat of that filly - but she hit nothing but the cool morning air, her claws whistling slightly as they flew sideways, looking instinctively for her prey. Puzzled, she bent forward, leaning her head around the bottom of the branch. The filly was gone, shoved far beyond harm's way - for now - and in her place was the dark mare, the intruder.

Letting out a hiss, Paris aimed a swipe at the mare's face, then turned and leaped from the branch and onto her back. She was small and lithe, but surprisingly well-muscled beneath Paris's claws. That sent a shot of disdain through her; she had been expecting easy prey, and a fight definitely meant that she would get dirty. Hoping to end it quickly, Paris stuck her face into the mare's long, tangled mane, searching for her spinal cord. The hair was thick, though, and snarled between her teeth. You have to be kidding me, she thought. I'm going to have to do this the messy way.

Extracting her claws from the bloody holes they'd made in the mare's back, Paris reached around for her throat, hoping the mare would go down easy. But then suddenly, the world tilted and she lost her grip on gravity.

And then all was pain and darkness.  

[xo maho]

One moment she was staring into that bright white smile, and the next, her breath had been knocked out of her and she was sprawling into a holly bush. Lún looked wildly around. What's going on? she thought, and then her gaze landed on her sister and her ears heard that hiss - and then the cat was clinging to Tinúviel's back. It was her turn to scream. "Tin, no!" Scrambling to get her feet back beneath her, Lún shot forward unintentionally, running straight into Tin just as the giant cat was unhooking her claws and aiming for her sister's throat. A vision of red seeping into her sister's mint-green markings added even more desperation to her movements, and it was enough to send all of them off balance enough to propel them sideways.

When Lún rose from the resulting tangle of limbs, she took a quick inventory before checking her sister. She herself was unharmed, if a bit sore, but Tin was a different story. Blood ran in lines down her sister's side, and that was only the side that Lún could see. Her sister's eyes were closed, and she was breathing heavily, blood running over her eyelid from the cut on her face. "Please get up, Tin," Lún said, not even thinking. "Please." She couldn't handle being the cause of her sister's death, because to the filly, that was what her sister's lack of movement looked like. She's breathing, though, Lún told herself. She's alive.

She wasn't sure if the same could be said for the cat beneath her sister, though. She couldn't tell whether or not it was breathing, but it certainly wasn't moving. Thankful for at least that much of a reprieve, Lún heard her sister groan after another moment, and her eyes widened. Any second now, Tin would get up and vanquish the creature, just like a hero in a fairytale. It would happen.

But our people don't believe in killing, she thought, and frowned. Obviously some people do, though.  

[xo maho]

Tin grunted as she was shoved sideways just as she was about to roll to get that damned cat off her back. She heard a thud as she hit the ground hard, and then her eyes closed to the sting of blood in her eyes. She watched the fight in her mind, replaying every moment as she lay there.

She had flinched back when the walker had struck at her face, but the edge of a claw had made a clean cut down the center of her nose, all the way down to the soft tissue of her muzzle. And then, suddenly, pain had pierced her back as claws sank into and tore at her back in so many places that her whole back felt like it was on fire. Something pulled at her mane, and then she caught sight of a paw trying to connect with the flesh of her throat, claws extended.

That's never going to happen, had been her thought, and then her knees bent and she began to roll sideways. Something shoved her along even faster, though, and when she landed, the walker was well beneath her, cushioning her fall, though the wind had still been knocked from her lungs.

And that was it. The fight was over.

She just wanted to lay there, breathing against the fire in her ribs, her hide, and her face. But her sister's voice pulled her out of it, and she groaned. Of course, Tin thought. Just when it would be a good time to go back to sleep for the night. Her brain paused. It's not night. I just had breakfast. Shaking the blood out of her eyes, Tin blinked. Sunlight dappled the green canopy above her. She must have hit her head pretty hard, if she thought it was time for bed.

Groaning even more loudly this time, Tin rolled into a better position, getting her front legs beneath her and then lurching to her feet. She was dizzy enough that she almost fell over again, but she steadied herself somehow. Looking down at the skinwalker, a delirious grin broke over her face. "She won't be waking up any time soon," Tin said, and then looked down at her sister. "I uh... I think I need to go see Mom and Aunt Lynnea, Lún. Do you remember which way I came from?" Though she was pretty sure she was on the wrong side of the tree, all she knew was that she had to go back under that branch to head in the right direction. Her voices weren't telling her much of anything, aside from confusion and static.  

[xo maho]

Lún stepped back from her sister's side as the older mare got to her feet. Tin swayed a little, and aside from the thick, red liquid making its way down from the claw marks on her body, she seemed relatively okay. Still, for Lún, who had rarely had so much as a scratch, so much blood almost made her swoon. Looking carefully away from Tin, Lún was just leading her sister back under the tree when the squirrel decided to make his repeat appearance.

The fluffy creature gave the cat a wide berth, bright green bulb in mouth. Lún would have glared at him for his crimes against flowerkind, but he was her only way home, as Tin was obviously in no condition to tell right from left. "Come on, sis," Lún said softly, walking slowly beside her sister and trailing along after the squirrel.

It seemed to take forever for them to reach the squirrel's tree, and when they did, he seemed to glare at Lún just as vehemently as she had considered glaring at him. But that didn't matter now. They had reached the Herdlands, and Tin needed a healer. "Mommy!" Lún cried, trying to get Calixte's attention. Over by the meeting tree, the briefing was dispersing, and dozens of ears and heads swiveled toward them. Calixte, farthest from them, was the first to start toward them, followed closely by Aunt Lynnea and the traveling healer that had taken up residence with them for a short time. Daddy must have been on patrol, because he was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Faye, but Lún didn't know where he ever was of late.

When her mother finally got close enough to them for Lún to feel safe - like there was nothing closing in on her from behind - she began sobbing. She didn't even know why. She wasn't hurt; Tin had taken all the damage for her. The cat hadn't even managed to touch her with a single claw. But still, tears ran from the corners of Lún's eyes as she moved away from her sister to let the healer get close to her.  

[xo maho]

Calixte knew something was wrong before Lún's voice reached her ears; something about the way her voices whispered frantically in her mind during the briefing, not just once, but three times - something had been wrong in the forest, and not very far away. She couldn't very well leave in the middle of the meeting to investigate; no one was supposed to be in the woods during the briefing, because the rest of the herd would be too far away to detect trouble should it strike. Leave it to her girls, though, to find it. It seemed almost a dream as Lún's call turned her ears and head, along with those of all the others gathered beneath the tree.

And then she was off, sprinting through the crowd as it parted before her, hoofbeats echoing hard across the plains, close behind. The distance was not great, perhaps one hundred and half again as many yards, but it was enough to feel as though it took years to cross the field of golden winter-grass. When she reached her girls, Cali was forced to make way for the healer who was close on her heels, but she was able to gather her younger daughter close to her, reaching with head and neck to pull the little one into an embrace. "What happened?" she demanded, to no one and anyone. Either Tin or Lún would answer, she was sure... The real question was how long it would take for them to spit out the story. Calixte glanced back the way they appeared to have come, but there was nothing but the seemingly peaceful green of the forest, glowing beneath the light of the morning sun.

Cali watched helplessly as the healer poked and prodded her eldest daughter with his horn as Ithillún cried into her scarred chest. Reaching down to comfort the little one, Cali rested her muzzle on top of the filly's head. "It will be alright, sweet one," she said, partly to herself and partly to Lún. "It will be alright."

It had to be alright. And someone would have to pay, because though Cali preferred peace, she was not about to let such violent acts against her family go unpunished.  

[xo maho]

The tang of blood reached Bedwyr just after the cry of Calixte's filly called her away. That was what sent him running after the matriarch and the mare named Lynnea - if there was blood, there was an open wound somewhere, and open wounds must needs closing. And, indeed, there were open wounds: many of them. As he neared Tinúviel, Bedwyr almost had to stop and take in the whole scene.

Blood streamed from her back down both flanks, and her face had a long cut that ran from forehead to muzzle, leaking blood into each eye, depending on which way the young mare turned her head. He almost panicked when he saw her back - the whole of it seemed to be covered in slowly congealing blood, but rather than the long, narrow wounds he thought he might see, there were instead several rows of puncture marks, each bleeding and trying to clot itself. Taking a deep breath to steady himself as Calixte moved from his path, Bedwyr stepped forward. "Tinúviel, I am a Unicorn healer," he said softly, unsure whether or not she could see him through the sticky crimson that coated her eyelashes. It seemed as though she swayed in response, and he plunged ahead. "I'm going to try to gauge the severity of your wounds. You might feel a little pressure around their edges, and possibly some pain if I get too close to the soreness within them. I need you to stay very still. Can you do that for me?" he asked, and with her murmured affirmation, shuffled a bit closer to her.

Leaning slightly toward the wound on her face, Bedwyr set his horn gently along the edge of the cut. He had no doubt that that cause her a certain amount of pain, but the mare did not flinch. The closer he got to the wound, the more he could see of it; it was not very deep, but it was long, and head wounds bled more fiercely than wounds in other places. Best not to spend all your energy on this wound, he told himself, but enough that it will stop blinding her. "You may feel a little tingling and tightness, and perhaps a little bit of an itch," he said. "That is a good feeling. It means that your wound is healing." When she murmured something again, he took it as confirmation that she had heard him, and began to concentrate. Though he had grown stronger with age, accessing his healing magic was no less difficult. The amount of concentration it took often gave him a headache at the end of the session, especially if he was under a time crunch. Like now. He could only imagine the migraine he would have later.

Running the tip of his silver horn down the length of Tinúviel's face, Bedwyr watched the wound's edges become less frayed and begin to grow closer together. Thanks to the shallowness of the cut, it was not long before a thin film of protective skin covered it, stemming the tide of blood.

Turning his attention to the wounds on the mare's back, the healer set his horn to each of the small holes in turn. He didn't put as much energy into these - with puncture wounds, allowing them to scab over sometimes trapped the corruption inside. Instead, he healed them so that their edges were less ragged and they became the shape of smooth circles. If they were cleaned regularly, she might even escape scarring after her fur had grown back. "Is there anything aside from the wounds that is bothering you today, Tinúviel?" he asked, backing up so that he did not tower over her so much anymore. Like her mother, she was small, even for her breed. The Vanaras had been kind and allowed him to stay with them for a time, learning more of their culture and learning other ways of healing, using his own magic when someone needed immediate medical attention, as Tinúviel did.

Casting a glance toward her younger sister, Bedwyr judged Ithillún's state of being. She was, at least outwardly, alright, though she was a tearful mess. From the state of her sister, however, Bedwyr could not blame the filly - something terrible must have happened out there in the woods, and no one had been around to pay attention to them.  

[xo maho]

Tinúviel shook her head in response to Bedwyr's question, and then regretted the movement. Her head had begun to pound as she had followed Lún blindly back to the edge of the Herdlands, but it was nothing compared to the fire that had ridden in her back and between her eyes - a fire now quenched. The pounding in her head had taken its place, and her thoughts and balance were as fuzzy as ever. "I think I hit my head. I fell down," she told the healer, numb to his touch. She had felt the itch, but in truth, it had been less irritating than it was soothing. It put out the heat in her wounds, trading it instead for that slight tightness he had mentioned. The next thing she would need was a bath. But with the way she was swaying, she would probably need assistance to avoid drowning herself.

As Bedwyr tended to her aching head - the feeling was different this time, tingly instead of itchy - Tinúviel addressed her mother. "Lún met a skinwalker in the woods," she said. "Couldn't tell if it was cursed or pure. 'Parently they can turn into animals, 'cause it was a giant cream-and-pink cat... Smelled like a walker..." she trailed off, exhausted. That was all her mother needed to hear. She would send out a search party or something now, or go looking for the beast herself. Tin didn't care anymore. She was just glad that her sister was safe in their mother's embrace, and that she could go take that bath as soon as Bedwyr was done with her.  

[xo maho]

Calixte inhaled deeply when her daughter told her of the walker in the woods. Just what the herd needed, another skinwalker scare. Though the beast had probably scampered off by now - from the beating it had given her daughter, she could only imagine the shape it was in - she knew it would only be right if they went after it. And with Kenton elsewhere, she would have to lead the search herself.

Lowering her head so that she was level with Ithillún, Calixte met her daughter's eyes, glowing fiercely to match her own. "Go with Aunt Lynnea," she commanded, but softly. "You should help get your sister cleaned up. She might need your help for a while," she added, and gently nudged Lún toward Lynnea's side. The filly looked reluctant, but if Cali was going to form a search party without the little one's protests, Lún would need to be well away from her before she started talking about it.  

[xo maho]

Bedwyr lifted his horn from Tinúviel's temple and nodded to the matriarch. His healing done, he addressed Tinúviel and her keepers. "A bath would do her good. She will need assistance with washing the blood from her wounds, especially on her back and face. I recommend that you do not leave her unattended for at least three days, and she will need a bath on each of them. Not that you cannot take care of yourself," he added to Tin, "but we can never be certain how long it will take for head injuries to heal, and you may still feel dizzy from time to time. If you feel unaccountably sleepy, tell somebody to fetch me and make sure you don't fall asleep," he finished. Hopefully they would heed his warnings and care recommendations, but as Calixte and Lynnea had both heard them, he was sure that the dark little doe would be well-cared for.

As Lynnea ushered both Tinúviel and Ithillún from their mother's side, toward the river, Bedwyr turned toward Calixte. "I assume that you mean to go after the skinwalker that did this?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "I will accompany you." It was not a request - he was not about to let another mare venture out alone and be handed a similar fate. "It will be some time before I feel the full affect of the drain of my power," he added. He had - perhaps not completely thinking it through - shared his weakness with the Vanaras, in hope that they might have some remedy to the symptoms caused by his power's drainage, but there was no such luck. It seemed that he would have to suffer the consequences no matter how he tried to avoid them, but he could, sometimes, put them off.

Gesturing toward the trees with a turn of the head, Bedwyr said, "Shall we, then?"