__The sounding of hooves against moistened soil was barely heard, nearly drowned out by the idle chirping of crickets and shrill calls of wild birds who weaved and bobbed between the thick mist. Vard pressed his fingertips against Tenar's shoulder, and the phyri stood its ground. The fog seemed to creep and curl around them, alive, as if some wispy creature fought languidly to rip through the grayish white encasing. Dark brown pupils scanned behind squinting eyelids. A tangle of gnarled tree branches agonizingly rose up from the soil, but nothing else could be seen except the nearby bodies of rotting forest wood.
The cry cut through the thick mist and its accompanying silence, startling Tenar. His left ear flicked back, quickly unfurling into a tiny puff of ashen gray, then reforming whole again. He trotted in place.
"Shh..." Vard hummed, rubbing the tense Phyri's shoulder. His mind did not vibrate with fear, and so his ease remained. "There are friends here."
"I am not afraid," the Phyri whispered, basking in his air of feigned courage. He brought his gray shoulders back, and puffed out his chest.
Vard smiled, his eyes and his mind still focused on piercing the blinding mist before them.
"Very good then..." he whispered absent-mindedly.
Vard slid his torso down against the slick-furred side of Tenar, dropping to his feet with a muffled thud. The heavy ground mist scattered away from his leather boots like frightened butterflies.
"Although, Tenar, there is no shame in fear," Vard concluded solidly as he walked further from his four-legged companion.
Tenar's jaw clenched tight as he nodded. "What of the voice?"
"We find the mouth from which it came," Vard's voice sounded, trailing off as he disappeared into the haze-white labyrinth. Tenar found no time to question his friend's intentions, and so scuttled after him.
"Hello?!" Vard called, fanning the mist like a hoard of flies.
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