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Tired eyes looked up into a star strewn sky, but found no comfort in the twinkling of far away suns. After a while, the watcher turned her head to look at the village set a short distance away.

Built in the grassy plains of Splithoof Valley, the tarous village was composed of a series of huts of varying size. The walls of the huts were made with the tanned and stretched skins of kordox; the large, lumbering beasts of burden used by the tarous. Sometimes the tents were decorated with paint or bead work, but that was mostly reserved for the more important members of the tribe. Occasionally the thundering bellow of a kordox or the whinny of a horse would echo through the still night, momentarily drowning out the song of the crickets before fading away.

Nadirah sighed as she watched the silent village. Everyone else was asleep with the exception of a handful of night guards, their fires reduced to glowing coals. She knew she should also be asleep as well, but the nightmares kept her awake, nagging constantly at her conscience and refusing to let her rest. After a while she took a deep swallow from her nearly empty flask. The strong drink helped to dull the pain and quiet her mind, for a time, but it could never seem to banish her dark thoughts in their entirety. There would be only one way to do that. With one last look up at the stars, Nadirah finally rose to her feet before silently making her way back to her assigned bed. Sunrise, and her first day of training, were only a few hours away.

"No no no!" Rakthon yelled, halting the combatants and causing them all to wonder which of them were to be the target of his scorn. "Nadirah, your stance is off again! How many times do I have to show you this before it sinks into that thick skull of yours?"

The other students snickered softly as the latest to join them was named, relieved not to be victim of the old bull's infamous wrath yet again, but they were swiftly silenced by an angry glare from the trainer. "Sorry... again." She said softly, her tone anything but contrite.

Rakthon's face seemed to soften slightly and he gave a weary sigh. "Sorry won't keep you alive when you face your opponent for the first time. Sorry won't deflect the swords or spears of your enemy. Sorry gets you killed!" He turned his harsh glare to the rest of his pupils, causing them to sober immediately. "This lesson goes for the rest of you as well! I don't teach you these things just so you can beat each other in wrestling matches! I teach you because the world we live in is a dangerous place, and if you don't learn how to handle those dangers, you won't survive in it! What I and the other battle masters teach you is to help you survive! How to fight back! Make sure the deaths are on _their_side! The _enemy's_losses instead of your own! And all the healers in the world can't help you if the necromancers lay claim to you!"

There was a soft murmur and scrape of hooves against grass as the old warrior's words sunk in. A few whispered softly amongst themselves of relatives lost to the army of undead. As Rakthan's eyes fell back to his newest pupil, he was surprised to find her watching him. He hated to be the focus of her attention. "Alright, it's late and I'm sure everyone is tired. Break for the day."

Nadirah followed behind the others as they all headed for the lake just a short distance outside the village. She kept her pace slower and she did not join in their joyful screams. Armor was shed in messy heaps and the other young tarous had began splashing joyfully like calves by the time she reached the lake's shore. Nadirah hesitated, watching them for a while until she finally turned away, going further down until she reached a large, moss-coated log. It was all that remained of some large tree that had fallen long ago. The weary tarin took her time undressing, folding her clothes neatly before slipping into the chilly water.

The coldness was immediately refreshing after a day spent under the hot sun. Nadirah rested for a few moments, listening to the sounds of her fellow warriors in training a short distance away, before letting herself slip under the water, drowning out the rest of the world. She stayed under as long as she could, listening to the relaxing gurgle of the lake in her ears, holding her breath until her lungs felt as if they were being consumed by a cleansing fire. Black fog was creeping into the edges of the doe's mind before she finally thrust herself back to the surface for a soothing breath.

As she rose, the cheerful laughter and splashing of the others once more reached her ears. Nadirah turned her head to look at them, but the log blocked her view, just as she had intended. She sighed softly and then turned away, giving no outward appearance of her growing weariness. "These are my people." She whispered softly to herself, rubbing some of the dust and grit from her short fur. "Why don't I feel like one of them?"

Although the other adolescent tarous spent more time with her than anyone else in the village, they had never once seen Nadirah smile, nor sigh, and never was she known to utter a word of complaint uttered within earshot of anyone. In fact, she rarely spoke at all, and when she did it was always softly, as if she were afraid to raise her voice.

When she had first been accepted by Rakthon, a few had tried to strike up conversations with the stranger, but they had all asked the wrong questions, wanting to know things she wasn't ready to talk about, so she had said nothing at all. It took very little time for rumors to be born in her silence, growing unchecked in the fertile ground of distrust and speculation and spreading rapidly throughout the small village, spoken only in whispers when they thought she couldn't hear them.

It was said that she was on the run after committing some terrible crime. It was said she was a traitorous spy. Once, while pretending to sleep, she had overheard was that she was a dead chieftain's daughter looking to settle a blood debt. Nadirah let them talk, doing nothing to affirm nor deny the rumors, but each new story made her feel more and more isolated.

No one dared to meet her eye or stand in her path when she moved about the village, some even hurrying away with mumbled excuses if she happened to come too close. Once a mother had nervously snatched up her calf and hurried away when she spotted the doe heading for her tent. While a part of the young tarin was glad to be left alone, part of her still wished she was not such an outcast among her own people, but she didn't know what to do to make them accept her.

Nadirah was snapped out of her dark ruminations as she entered the tent shared by all of those in training and was surprised to find that it was not empty as she had been anticipating. The occupant was a large, gray-furred bull that had been her sparring partner that day. He sat on the edge of his cot, gently probing his shoulder; a bandage covering the injuring she had caused after slipping past his defenses to land a strike with the practice sword.

The young bull grinned wryly as he caught sight of her. "Hey there." He called out with a small wave of his fingers. "You did a number on me. Good job! No one else has managed to even get close."

Nadirah snorted in annoyance at his words and turned her back on him as she dumped her clothes across the surface of her cot. "Don't mock me for your own carelessness." She snapped coldly before reaching for her pack to retrieve dry, clean clothes. "You were cocky. Cockiness leads to mistakes."

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry." The bull replied earnestly, rising to his feet and approaching her. "I'm not mocking you, honest. You really did get me good. Usthan said you just barely avoided cracking a bone or two." He walked around so that he was on the opposite side of her cot, trying to force her to face him. "I'm Jorthon, by the way. You're Nadirah, aren't you?"

"Yes." She affirmed as she watched the male suspiciously as she dressed, unsure of his motives.

"I thought so. Nadirah Wolfcaller, right? Everyone in the village knows about you." His wide smile was friendly and inviting. "I doubt any of the rumors are true, though. You know how it is, busy-bodies love to make things up when they don't know the truth." When Nadirah gave no reply but just continued to stare at him suspiciously, his smile faltered slightly. "Yeah, sorry. I guess that's the wrong subject to bring up. Well nev-"

"What do you want?" The doe interrupted, her eyes narrowing in warning of her growing impatience.

Jorthon seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile returned. "I want to be your friend." He replied jovially. "You really impressed me today."

"My... my friend?" Nadirah asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." Jorthon replied. "You're friend." His smile looked genuine and open, making the doe wonder at his motives. When she still failed to warm to him, Jorthon sighed and let his smile slip away. "I admit, I haven't been the most welcoming. And I'm actually ashamed of myself for it. I'd like to make it up to you now if you'll let me."

Nadirah continued to stare at him silently for a while. Finally, she looked away, dropping her harsh gaze. "I've never had a friend before." She said softly, her voice soft but lacking its usual tone of authority.

Why not?" The young bull asked curiously, leaning forward across the cot still resting between them. His expression suddenly turned mischievous, mouth curling into a grin. "You didn't kill them all, did you?"

The doe's eyes snapped to him, ears folding angrily. "Is that what you think?" She asked coldly.

"No. Not really." He replied with a light chuckle, returning to his open smile. "Look, I understand that vou have your demons and you'd rather not talk about them, that's fine. I won't ask about them. But you're a guest here among strangers, and we haven't exactly been treating you very well, have we."

Nadirah stood silent for many long moments as she studied the young bull before her. His words had struck her deeply, reminding her of her outcast status in the village, and at the same time claiming that it was not her fault. Unable to prevent it, a small spark of hope flickered to life within the tarin. Nadirah narrowed her eyes slightly, indecisive. She desperately wanted to believe that his offer of friendship was genuine, but it would not be the first time someone had tried to become closer to her to learn her secrets and use them against her. "And you plan to correct that, do you?" She asked warily.

"Heh, I'd certainly like the chance to try." He answered with a lopsided grin. "I suppose I can start by saying welcome to Thornhoof Village. We're not the biggest village in the Split Hoof valley, the Blue Arrows have that claim to fame, but we have the best warrior trainer. Everyone sends their calves here when they're old enough."

"So I've heard." Nadirah replied softly. "He is why I am here."

"Well you certainly showed up at the right time. Old Rakthon had only just started training us a week or so before you showed up, so you really didn't miss much, but boy was he mad when you interrupted his lesson." The young bull scratched at the base of one ivory horn, which was already impressively large for his age. "Hey, would you like to go for a walk? I can show you something."

Nadirah looked at him silently for a long time before finally giving a cautious nod. "Alright." She said softly, anticipating an ambush or prank. "But if you're planning a trick of any kind-"

Jorthon grinned and raised both hands, cutting off her warning. "Nothing like that, I promise! I just think we could do with a little fresh air and a nice walk. I'd also like to keep talking with you."

After another moment of hesitation, Nadirah finally nodded and followed him out of the tent and out of the village. The sun was just beginning to set and shadows stretched out before them like ethereal taffy, giving the few scattered trees an almost sinister appearance.

"The sun sets pretty quick out here." Jorthon commented as they walked, the grass hissing softly in the breeze. "But don't worry, we won't get lost. Not that you seem like someone who's afraid of being lost in the dark."

"Why would anyone be afraid of the dark?" Nadirah asked quizzically, bending down to pick up an oddly shaped pebble in her path, inspecting it a moment before tossing it idly away.

"Oh, you know, because that's when all the creepies come out." Her escort replied with a smirk. "The ghouls and goblins and bandits."

"Now you're talking like a milk calf." She muttered scornfully, casually tossing the pebble at his head. "There's not really anything worth fearing in the dark. I've seen a lot worse in broad daylight."

"Really? Like what?" Jorthon asked curiously, pausing beside a moss-covered boulder and looking at the doe as he turned to to lean against it.

Nadirah looked away, staring at the fading sunset. "Like me." She finally said, Jorthon barely able to hear her reply.

The young bull laughed heartily and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Nadirah, I don't know what you think you've done that's so bad, but I guarantee that it's not as terrible as you believe. I mean, it's not like you _really_killed someone, right?"

Nadirah's mouth opened as if to speak, the words just at the tip of her tongue yet unwilling to leave her mouth. For several long seconds, she stood there, silently opening and closing her mouth, but finally she turned and walked away without response. Confused and feeling vaguely ashamed for crossing a line he had promised he wouldn't, the young bull did not dare follow her.