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Nyl landed in front of Fen, shaking her head. "Fen, please...Neko...he didn't attack you. ...Well, he did. But I think he - idiotic sensei and student of mine that he is - was trying to...to test you somehow. Which, obivously, the rest of us didn't like at all. He shouldn't have done it." The rest of that sentence - and he will pay - was written on Nyl's face.

"I'm only letting you go if you promise me you're going to come back." Nyl stepped in front of her again. "If you can't promise me that - and I hold people to their word quite strongly - then I'm following you." Nyl looked at her squarely, half-smiling. "We do need you there, Fen."

Hm. Guess I'll be satisfied with that. Now, to business...
...right? To business?
Sure.

Nyl flew off toward the dojo again.

As soon as Seph stepped onto the porch, the fog faded into nothingness. He sat on the steps, scratching his head. He swore, fumbled over the four-letter-word, swore again, and tore the cloth around his head off, throwing it to the ground infront of him. What was he trying to do.. Listen. Jesus, that didn't even make sense. Throw a rock and attention is drawn from the enemy to a decoy, as simple as that.

He kept the scarf around his neck. The soft fabric.. It never ceased to amaze him. By all standards, the scarf should be worn through by now, but it was still as soft as the day he obtained it. He gazed at it and smiled softly. Deep down, he knew why he still harbored such affection for the scarf, but he hated admitting to himself that even after all this time, he still longed for her touch. Her voice.

He sighed at the nickname, looking away. "Both." He said. The back of his leg was bleeding, but not too badly. He'd re-wrap it soon, after cleaning it. He leaned forward, then reached up to the Halo over his head. "Y'know.. I don't even remember why I took this damn thing.." He said, releasing it. He let out a frustrated growl. He looked out over the field, to the treeline.

"I want rid of this thing. Rid of that damned fog. I haven't made any progress in getting to the bottom of it. It sits back, waits. It won't attack the dojo, and I don't know why. Ever since it's first showing, when countless knives and shuriken flew at us, remember? That was the only time. Like someone told it to just.. Stop. Don't attack the Dojo. But as soon as he's off those grounds, he's free game, and everyone around him.." He was rambling, now, and probably needed to be quieted down.

"Yeah, I've thought of that.." He said. "But what is fighting Fog? It's swinging at a mass of misty air.. In this case, that can throw stuff at you. It's not even -real- weaponry, either. It's made of the mist, of the fog." He looked at her, loss in his eyes. "I should just.. give up, throw in the towel, reduce myself to a hermit, live inside the dojo for the rest of my life.." He ran a hand through his hair, then winced. He heard the distinct whistle of an arrow, and looked out at the forest. It wasn't heading for either of them, directly, but it was headed for the dojo.

He stood and caught the arrow before it could make contact with the dojo. He made sure not to put too much pressure on his injured leg. He examined the arrow and sat back down. At the tip of the shaft was a small peice of parchment, rolled up. He removed it and unrolled the paper. It was a solid black peice of paper with one white symbol superimposed over the black background. And the mere sight of it made his blood turn cold.