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Three or so days had passed, and the egg had not hatched. ”Guess you made your choice, eh matey?” Naita murmured as she scented the Oblivionite in the air.

She'd held out some hope over the past few days that the egg might hatch while Ebalia was gone, but apparently that was not to be.

”Well.” she said, shrugging her wings, ”I guess ye thought it was for the best.” she said, sitting up as she looked, expectantly, for her friend...

”Who?” Naita asked, stretching. She had no idea who this old man Taal was, but yeah, elders tended to not shut up. Ever. They always had something to say. Naita couldn't fault them, but that had been part of the reason why she and the Stormwinds had set out on their own – too many old khehora telling them how to run their lives.

”Oh, I'm right rummy, I am.” she said, nudging the egg towards Ebalia, ”Could use a snack, though! Didn't want to leave this 'un alone for too long, so I've been living off o' what I stuffed meself with before and the occasional brave bouken” she grinned toothily, happily illustrating the fate of said bouken.

”So, if we're going t' hunt...” Naita trailed off, turning to look where Ebalia was looking. Her eyes arrowed, intrigued.

Smoke, eh

Where there was smoke, there was fire, and... well... That was literally Naita's element, be it the literal or figurative kind. She sniffed the air, noting the scent of wood and oil – not a forest fire then. ”Sure.” she said, starting along next to Ebalia, ”Lets go see what that is.”

As they got closer Naita spied axe marks on trees and footpaths: sure signs of habitation. And she smelled blood.

Well. That's interesting

”Hey!” she said, sniffing again, ”I think thats a village up there.” And she heard screaming...

Even better.

Naita wasn't exactly un-moved by the scene before her, though not for reasons that Ebalia probably would have approved of. The Stormwinds, after all, had been raiders, though their activities had been relegated to the water and to uninhabited coasts. They had never hit a village... but it would have probably been worse than it was. Still, the carnage and destruction remineded her of her old friends, and how much she missed them.

She sniffed around the ruined buildings, partially out of curiousity and partially out of theivery.

Ahh She could smell Orderites. She had nothing special against Orderites, just as she had nothing against any of the other twoleg races of the world. They were powerful, dangerous, and tasty, and the Stromwind's had killed (or fled, sometimes, she admitted) any they came across on their open water patrols.

She'd seen Magescians hunt their own kind, which made no sense but Naita wasn't one to judge. This, at least, was more sensible. Oblivionites were not Orderites, after all. Not their own kind.

She looked up at Ebalia, swishing her tail before following along gamely, looking at the villagers impassively as she passed. She'd sort of been interested in finishing the village off – killing the wounded beast and all – but hey, dead magescians were dead magescians and she was adventuring with Ebalia. If Ebalia wanted to kill raiders, Naita was happy to go with her.

She trotted ahead, catching the raider's scent, her blue body lithely turning as she followed their blood-smelling steps to...

”Ooo...” she rumbled approvingly.

It was more than a boat, it was a ship. She was a beautiful thing, as ships went – well made with good strong wood and a tall mast. A flag hung limply from one of them, no wind to send it flapping, but Naita wouldn't have been able to read it anyway – why should she? Normally, she had burn the ship, or rested on them with her group after killing the crew.

Still, she could appreciate it, and she wanted it... even as the ship's current crew – shockingly brightly colored in this shadowy land – loaded their vessel with their ill-gotten booty.

”Well, Eba, how do ye wanna go in?” she asked. Silently, she counted: about twenty raiders outside, maybe more inside. She could probably take them, but not in a full frontal charge. Not even she could handle seasoned sea veterans on her own, and Eba... was a kid.

Naita sized up Ebalia quickly, judging her weight and how much effort it would take to fly her. And, moreover, how much more effort it would take to fly her quietly.

Its doable she determined with a huff and a nod.

”Nice plan.” she said appreciatively, glad there was someone with a brain around – it had never been her. Usually, she barely had the common sense to not charge in, breath flaming. She crouched, giving Ebalia a clear path to the area just before her wings – where, frequently, Cid himself rode in all his sheeply glory. ”All right, get on.” she said, waiting for Ebalia to be securely on before she stood.

Oof. It wasn't that the girl was particularly heavy, but she was heavier than Cid, and Naita wondered if she could get off the ground. Well, lets find out. she said. ”It's gonna be bumpy, matey.” she warned, ”So hang on, but don't be chokin' me.” she started towards a promising outcropping of rocks out of view from the raiders, overlooking a stretch of ocean. First, she went at a walk, then a jog, then a trot, and then a run as her momentum – from her new weight – pushed her forward. She unfurled her wings with a smart snap and began to flap them experimentally as they hurtled towards the end of the rocks. If she failed, they'd be in the water. If not, they'd be in the air. No harm, no loss, no foul... cept to her ego.

”Here we go...” she said as her feet left the solid rock. It was the moment of truth. Her wings flapped down, deafeningly powerful once, twice, three times, and her belly skimmed the surface of the water... and then rose again. ”Woo!” she said gleefully as she forced her way higher into the air, higher and higher until they were at a level with the trees, ”Well, we're in the air!” she said, flying out into the coastal water a ways before banking, ”Don't ye get airsick now, matey...” she said, as the ship and its bay came into sight, ”Or if ye do, try to get yer sick in the water, or on them.”

She flapped for altitude and then began to glide towards the ship, carefully silent as she kept a keen eye out for lookouts on the ship's deck. Naita liked this whole plan- Is was exciting and fanciful and it was well planned.

This was just like old times.

”We're here...” she breathed, as she came in for a landing...

Naita, freed of her burden, backtracked and gained altitude, circling around for a second pass... but not before she saw Ebalia use her blood magic. She left before the conclusion of the raider's life, but it was enough to send a chill all the way down her spine to her tail.

Naita was all for killing. Killing was fun. But there was something about how Ebalia had turned that man into a puppet that made her uneasy. She'd stolen his will and made him kill his fellows, and he hadn't even been able to lift a finger against it. Naita couldn't help but imagine the Stormwinds. They'd come up against blood magic before, but they'd always managed to blast everything to smithereens before it got too far. Their prey hadn't exactly been the best protected ships, after all – they'd chosen wisely up until their last ship. But what if they had? What if a Stormwind had been forced to turn against their fellows? What if Naita had? If there was one thing Naita held dear, it was her free will, her ability to decide her friend and her foe. To lose that would have been cruel, a fate worse than having been bonded to a magescian.

And there was also something about the whole thing that was deliciously fascinating. The look on the man's face had been entertaining, the look on his friends's faces more so. And it had been a clever trick, one which Naita wouldn't have been able to pull off. She'd always had a lot of respect for people who could do things she could not, and in the end it was a better strategy than whatever stupid s**t Naita could come up with.

Still, she could have kept flying, gone out to sea and left Ebalia alone. The thought crossed her mind at some point as she gained enough altitude for her loop back around. Who was to say that Ebalia wouldn't use that magic on her – control her like a puppet and force her to do unconscionable things?

But really, what would be unconscionable to Naita? Killing her friend? What friends did she have that weren't Ebalia? Or, she supposed, a Leklan or a mostly insane Orderite? The truth was, not many. So, other than make her dance like an idiot and maybe kill herself on a rock, there wasn't much Ebalia could do to her. In the end, Ebalia was on her side, and Naita had every confidence that she wouldn't turn against her. The more power the better, and if Ebalia was going to be with her for the long run – which wouldn't be so bad, to be honest, and Naita had no desire to throw out a friendship just because she was a wee bit squeemish. Frankly there was little worse than being all alone.

Besides, if Ebalia turned on her, Naita could deal with her before she had a chance to cast her spell. But that wasn't happening, because Naita was going to stick with the plan.

She made the turn and came in right as the raiders were running around like a nest of ants. They were so focused on the chaos on the ship that she was practically on top of them before any of them noticed.

And by that point, they were on fire.

She roared, her flames powered by magic and hotter than any campfire, sizzling flesh and melting metal before belatedly being sheilded away by a shimmering magical shield. She finished her pass, coming around again.

Mages, eh? She reared, midair, as if to blaze again, and then dove, dodging arrows and bullets and all manner of projectiles to strike at the mage. She burst through the shield, coordinated to stop the heat and damaging magic of her flames short, but unable to stop a careening khehora. She shoved the mage to the ground, clearing the area around her with well-timed lashes of her tail.

She ravaged the mage until their struggles ceased and their screams became gurgles and then nothing.

“Ha!” she crowed, leaping aside to evade the downward strike of a cutlass before sending a ball of fire in the raider's direction, “Weren't expectin' that, now were ye?!” She sent another blast of flame at the group of Orderites that decided to engage her, and, to her satisfaction, they backed away.

”You lot are a pitiful remainder of yer crew.” she noted, ”Theres, what, six o ye now? Four.” she corrected, as she saw two of them run for the ship. Let them run. Let Ebalia have a little more fun herself. ”I faced worse than ye not a few years back.” Naita taunted, dodging one of their feints, ”A real seasoned crew, they were. Had me pack running. Now they were real pirates... You lot hit soft targets like villages. Got no real backbones on ye. Well, that's fine.” she said, lunging, preceded by a coppery gout of her own flame, ”'cause I'll break 'em all th' same!”

And with that she laid into them, not particularly caring about the kind of injuries she was getting. All she cared about was the screaming, the blood, the adrenaline, and the sharp, acrid smell of smoke...

Naita splashed in the salt water, washing off the blood and grime and, incidentally, getting it into her wounds. She had more wounds than she had realized she had, and she yelped as the salt stung her. She shook off the water as she left, trotting onto the ship to check on Ebalia... who apparently had indeed taken care of herself. The dried up husks did give Naita pause, and she gave them a long, odd look, but perhaps she was getting used to her new friends's methods. That, or she had become philosophical about the raiders – they were shitty pirates anyway, and deserved their fates for being such poor examples of the craft.

Musing done, she turned to Ebalia, a fanged khehoran grin flashing bright white... and red... against her dark coat. ”Aye!” she said, ”I'm always awesome, ain't I?” she made a show of preening, her eyes glittering with amusement.

That was when she realized. There was a ship. The ship had no crew. Which meant she could do with it as she wished. In her claws it was nothing more than a creaky lair, but it was a freaking gorgeous lair, just from looking on the outside, and Naita found herself wondering... what if? What if this could be her home? Wouldn't that just be perfect? The best lair ever.

“Why don't ye go do that.” she said,scanning along the deck almost hungrily, “While I go take a look-see around this fine vessel here?” If it was to be her lair, she should go and look around. She was sure the villagers would want their stuff back, and Eba seemed the type to give it to them and hey, Naita would want her stuff back too if crappy raiders had stolen it. But Naita wanted to see what else was in here, and what she could claim as hers.

“Meet me back here, later?” asked Naita, grinning. A thought stirred in her head. It could be a lair... but it didn't have to be Naita's alone, did it? It was a thought that was delightful, but needed more mulling... For now, potential treasure called, the best part of any fight. “Let me know how it goes with 'em?”