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Naita hadn't realized it until she landed in the dark land, but she had never been to Soldul before. She grinned at its sights and smells, all new. “Well, Cid.” she said to her Leklan, who wobbled on his feet after having been carried o the long flight over the ocean to Soldul, “What a place, right?” She gawked at the towering mushroom trees of the Endeldarth coast, “I wonder what those will smell like if I crisp 'em?” she wondered. Cid couldn't care less about that, although he disliked her fire magic. He nosed at his still freshly-groomed coat, as if to make sure everything was in order. “Oh come on.” protested Naita, “It wasn't that rough of a flight. I flew smoothly on the thermals, just for you.” Cid Maaaed at her and trotted over to some leaves to munch on. “Ungrateful b*****d.” she cooed adoringly, “Eat that, and then we're going in to see whats what in this place.”

~~~

Malta had been training. She had been training, and training, and training. And, when she hadn't been training, she had been sleeping because training was now all day. Her cauldron lay abandoned, and it was only through virtue of some slight leeway time between when she woke up and when the elder came and got her that her garden hadn't gotten completely out of whack. If it wasn't the elder bothering her, it was her 'servant'. Siksyl'gra made sure she got out of bed and out into training, and when the elder wasn't around, it was he who barked the orders and scolded her efforts to skirt the training. He was only about the size of her foreleg, at most, but he was full of confidence and commanding and Malta was not the bravest of khehora. She quailed, even before him, and he – as he often told her – was going to change that.

The night of the ritual was approaching fast, and though Malta ached perpetually now, she had to admit she was getting better, faster, and stronger - not to mention less likely to have a wheezing fit after a run. Which was what she was doing now. The Elder had said that she was to run a set course once a day before the rest of their training, and Malta was in the process of doing so. She hated it, of course, but Siksyl was behind her so she couldn't stop, otherwise he would nag her. She glanced behind her and, not catching his pelt or glowing eyes, she allowed herself to stop for a moment and breathe. She slumped, gasping, her nose barely touching the ground, her legs tingling with muscle aches she didn't have the focus to repair before they started again.

“Hey.” said a voice. Malta looked up, jumpy as she usually was, to see a blue khehora step out from the trees, “Are you okay?”

Naita regarded the green khehora. She had only just spotted the heavily patterned female through the trees, and her movements – and subsequent lack thereof – had aroused the wanderer's interest and concern.

“Yes.” Malta said, shrinking back slightly. She was not afraid of Khehora, and this khehora did not smell of the Soldul swamps and thus was not a member of a different tribe, here to kidnap her. But she did smell of fire and smoke, the nemesis of her own magic. “You are a Firani, aren't you.” she said, eyeing her with wary, glowingly blue eyes.

“I am! And I'm guessing that from your colors and the fact that I couldn't smell you at all that you're Ysali?” Naita chuckled, “Don't worry, I won't be starting any forest fires.” she reassured the green khehora, noticing their rotundity.

“Thats good.” said Malta, looking back nervously, “I'm sorry, I can't talk now.” she said, stretching her legs, “I must be off...” Siksyl'gra would get there soon and Malta didn't want to be lashed by his sharp tongue.

“Oh? Where are you going? Maybe I can come with you.” said Naita, grinning, “I've got nowhere else to go.”

“Just... running.” Malta said uneasily. She started to trot briskly along her route. To her uncertain dismay, the Firani began to trot alongside her, glancing back curiously.

“Whatcha running from?” she asked, “If it's dangerous, better two than one.”

“It's nothing like that.” said Malta. She was using very few words, but already she felt them steal her breath. “Just running.”

“Just running?” Malta didn't answer as her trot became a jog, “For...” Naita screwed up her sharp-snouted face, “For training? Or for fun?”

“Training.” Malta panted out as she upped her speed.

“Neat!” said Naita, matching her easily, “Whatcha training for?”

Malta was quiet, panting in exertion and breathless from talking. “Battle.” she managed.

“Whoa, seriously?” Naita blinked at the chubby khehora, easily keeping pace with her, “Forgive me for saying, sweetheart, but you look pretty wimpy.”

Malta declined to respond.

“Guess that's why you're training, then.” Naita said, “Ha! Well, I'll help you.” she said, “I've got nothing else to do, and I've always wanted to see a Ysali fight!”

“Not that... impressive...” muttered Malta, her sides beginning to burn again from exertion. She hated running. She hated it so much.

“Aww, come on. I'm sure it...” Naita paused. Surprised, Malta turned back to her unexpected companion. “Hang on.”

The Firani dove into the brush, and Malta could hear signs of a struggle. Likely, she was hunting. This is my chance Malta realized. She could leave the strange Firani behind and not have to be bothered by another khehora. Normally social, Malta didn't want a stranger to see her fail as she always did – it was somehow more embarrassing than Siksyl or the tribe seeing her. Or her mother. She turned to go, but – As usual – she took too long to leave. The Firani appeared, a fluffy bundle of fur draped over its back. It was alive, Malta noted, it's sides breathing heavily in exhaustion.

“This is my pet Leklan, Cid.” Naita said, introducing her friend to the Ysali, “Ain't he cute?”

“Er.” Malta blinked, “Yes.” She had thought she was the only one to keep pets. Unsure what else to say, she resumed her run, the Firani trotting and chattering happily by her side...

~~~

Reegel, who helped with her training occasionally, was not happy to see the Firani newcomer. The Shadow's Maw tribe was wary as a whole, having vicious and territory-hungry warrior khehora tribes at it's borders, and he voiced his suspicions that Naita was a spy, there to take their crafter from them.

But Elder Surhur believed the khehora's claim that she was from a sea tribe unrelated to the Soldulan front, and gladly accepted the young, energetic khehora's offered help.

Much to Malta's displeasure.

With Naita along, training became more than just gruelling running and fighting – it became annoying. Naita was somehow able to keep enough breath to natter on about something or other, and her pace was effortless compared to Malta's awkward run. And fighting... Oh dark lady's breath, the fighting...

Fighting against Naita was like an Orakoi trying to attack its mother. Naita held off Malta's attacks with barely a claw, and she didn't even use her fire magic. Malta went all-out against the other too, as much as she could, anyway, and still was easily held back. And then Naita laughed. She laughed. And Malta felt an emotion that she was not used to feeling.

Hate.

And that hate was what kept her going now, even when her legs felt like water and she wanted to lie down and die from exhaustion. She hated that Firani, and she would make it so that she wouldn't laugh at her anymore.

Naita for her part, was enjoying the whole thing. The chubby one was cute – in every possible way. In running, in fighting, in training... it was hard to believe that she was an adult, she was so cute. And ineffectual.

But she need not worry, for Naita was here, and good thing she was too! She would whip this alchemist into shape, double time.

And so she did. Powered by anger and constantly training, Malta's fat gradually turned to muscle, and her claws sharpened. She fought far fiercer than before – which wasn't saying much – and the day that she finally scored a hit on the nimble Naita was a proud day for the Firani, though the Elder wasn't so impressed.

There was only one more month, after all, before the Ysali would be called to fight in the ritual arena, and she was far from ready.

~~~

“Oh, so we're hunting today?!” said Naita, excitedly, “Oh boy!” the Firani loved hunting, for food or fun. Cid followed behind her, trusting the other khehora – aside from Malta – far less than his fear of the firani. “Okay, so what are we hunting.”
“Magbits.” Malta said, grimacing at her, “For their fur.”

“Oh yeah?” Naita asked, intrigued, “Why do you need their fur? They're tasty, after all.”

“For a potion.” said Malta, a little cagily. The elder had expressly forbidden her to craft potions or gather materials during her training, and she was not happy about it. The only time she was allowed to gather anything was when she killed it's former owner... another thing she was not happy about. And, to top it off, the annoying Firani had to come too. For supervision, said the elder, to make sure you don't kill yourself. Malta would have once been grateful at the company, but after all the training she had been through – and with the nature of that company – she was thoroughly tired of the whole affair.

“What sort of potion, huh?” asked Naita, curious, “What do potions do, even? I know you drink them but...”

“Potions are magic.” said Malta, shortly, “They are magic in a drinkable form, to heal, harm, or bolster.” She edged away from the Firani, “And the potion I'm making is none of your business.”

“Ohhhh, a secret, huh.” said Naita, grinning, “I can keep a secret. I'll keep that secret all the way down to Davey J's locker, I will.” she swore impishly, “So whats the potion?”

“I told you. It is none of your business.” said Malta, sniffing the air. She could smell the hot char of the magbit's heated magic and the ozone it left in the air. They were close. “Just kill a few.” She hated the words as she said them, hated how cruel she sounded. She didn't want to kill them at all. She'd never wanted to hurt anybody. Why, then, why did she have to train? Maybe if they split up, Malta could sneak up and clip the fur tufts off the magbit's heads... maybe. “You go that way, I'll go that way...” Malta said, gesturing.

“Nuh-uh. I'm not to let you out of my sight.” admonished Naita, “And your elder looks like she'd be mightly pissed if I did!”

“Ohhhh!” Malta huffed, puffing up in frustration, “Who's going to tell her, you? I can do things on my own, thank you!” she said, unhappily, “I don't need to be... I'm not a hatchling.” she deflated slightly, “I'm really not.”

Naita laughed. “Sure, fine. But only if you tell me what this mystery potion is.”

Malta muttered under her breath. “Fine.” she said, hissing slightly, “I'll tell you.” her eyes narrowed, “If you get the tufts.”

“No deal, sweetie.” said Naita, smirking, “Tell me now, or we're going running...” her smirk became wider, “Instead.”

Malta groaned. “Fine! You wan't to know that badly?! Its a potion that enhances speed. I need the lightning magic in their forehead tufts to power it. Are you happy now?!” she said, glaring.

“Happy as a clam in surf.” said Naita, amused. “All right, then, our little secret. We'll go off on our own... but if you're in trouble or something...” her expression changed, wary, “You shout for me, you hear?”

Malta grumbled and stalked off, evading the raucous laughter of the Firani as she left...

~~~

Naita sought out the nearest litter. They really weren't difficult to find – out foraging, their spiky tufts were very easy to spot, and the bitter's chirps and cries as they played were easy to track. Spotting a cluster of the creatures, Naita grinned. She had no idea how much the alchemist would need for her potion, but with thick, luxurious manes like what they had, surely it would be enough. Naita did want to help the cute little Ysali, after all.

She leapt from hiding, careful – as she had been with the Ysali – not to flame them. Fur, even flame-resistant fur – tended to burn and it was the fur that the alchemist wanted, after all. She pounced at the bitters as they played, hoping that it would prompt the mother – with her sultry mane – to protect her children and thus not run. Running – and chasing – the fast little monsters was, in Naita's personal experience, not entirely fun. Cid stayed far back, trembling as he watched Naita squish bitter after bitter, pouncing and stomping despite their mother's cries.

Finally the mother magbit had enough. She charged at Naita, shrieking, and clawed a swath of blood red through her scales with her sharp little claws. Naita tried to counter, but the magbit dodged and struck, dodged and struck, driving Naita back. It was very annoying.

Naita bit, catching the magbit on the leg and the thing screamed, louder. Naita heard an answering cry and, bounding out from the forest around them, was a male. He was supercharged with electricity and with a shriek he leapt, biting into Naita's surprised side with a painful chomp and then – moments later – an even more painful charge.

Electricity seared through her body and she jerked, struggling against the bite and against the charge, managing to shake off the male in her convulsions. She breathed a gout of flame to cover her escape as she hastily retreated, turning to seek the alchemist... if she was having this much trouble, she could only imagine how much trouble the poor Ysali was in.

~~~

Naita bounded through the forest, her side aching and twitching with every movement, as if the electricity remained, still, in her blood. “Hey!” she called out, once her voice returned – it had hidden, choked off by the electricity for a while, and her throat had closed, silencing her. But now it came back, a panicked roar. “Malta!”

“I thought I was the one to yell if I needed help.” Malta said, her face deadpan. She walked out of the woods and Naita realized she was close to where they had split off. “I was not expecting...” her eyes widened at the sight of Naita's injuries. “Lady below... you're hurt!” she said, bustling over and nosing at the wound.

“Yeah, Guess I am...” gasped Naita, lifting a paw, “Sorry, I'm supposed to be the reliable one.”

Malta gave her a look and closed her eyes, resting her nose at the wound. It was just a flesh wound, though the electricity running through it had caused some burns. Malta felt it tingle along her own body to it's sanctuary in the ground, her back shivering as it passed through her.

She had thought it would give her satisfaction to see the Firani injured, and had imagined it in her bitterest moments, but now that it was so... Malta let her healing magic sink into the wound, sloughing burned flesh and knitting healthy skin together carefully and professionally. Healing wounds, she knew now, was far nicer than gloating over them. Or causing them.

Naita watched her, entranced. “I take it you didn't find none.” she said.

“Actually... I found two.” Malta opened her small pack to show two neatly tied off magbit fur tufts.

“Two?! You killed two of the beasts?!” Naita whistled through her teeth, “I'm impressed.”

“Mmm.” said Malta, “Lets go back.” she said, “I'm sure the elder has more training for me to accomplish.”

“Sure she does...” Naita said. She stared at the khehora as she followed the Ysali back, thoughtful..

(2745/2600 (500 for Malta, 2100 for Naita)