Pallas watched the woman and her companions out of the corner of his eye. "I guess the mice aren't entirely without their fangs and claws."
The woman nudged the side of Pallas's face with the barrel of her rifle. "Yeah. And we have no compunction about using them either. So back off."
Pallas allowed the sword tip to dip, no longer pointing it at the human at his feet but rather the snow. "Sure thing."
As if to punctuate his intention to surrender, Pallas took a step back, raising his other hand to make him seem more harmless.
The woman didn't fall for it, keeping her rifle trained on Pallas as her companions helped the other man to his feet. "You're trespassing."
Pallas scratched an eyebrow with his middle finger. "Is that so? We had no idea."
"How's that possible?" someone muttered. "Everyone around here knows to warn visitors away from this area."
"Blame her for that." Pallas tilted his head at Kira. "She refused to let me stop in any of the nearby settlements."
Kira wasn't even surprised at how he tried to shift the blame to her. He always was a liar.
Graydon chuckled lightly as he straightened, his stance relaxing a bit as his earlier caution fell away.
Kira would call his confidence arrogant, but having seen his reflexes, she knew he didn't have much to fear from these humans. Despite the weapons—both the ones they could see and the ones they couldn't—trained on them.
Like the rest of her companions, the woman wore a pair of goggles that served to hide the upper half of her face. Their lenses had a greenish cast to them that Kira was guessing meant there was night vision built into them. Maybe a few other bells and whistles as well.
The stranger's coat was lined with fur around the cuffs and hood and looked thick, capable of keeping her warm even in this freezing temperature. Her hood had fallen back, leaving her pigtails visible.
She was also armed to the teeth. A rifle in her hand. The hilt of a bladed weapon sticking up over her shoulder. Not to mention the belt around her waist that held an assortment of tools that Kira didn't recognize.
All of a home design, Kira was betting.
Blue would have loved that. If the two didn't kill each other, they'd have something to talk about for hours.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the woman demanded.
Pallas smirked. "Yeah, Kira. I'd like to know that too. The second question. Not the first. I already know your name."
The woman's head twisted toward Kira. "Wait. Kira? As in Kira Forrest?"
A murmur ran through the humans. Pallas mouthed a fake "oops," not looking at all sorry.
The woman's rifle shifted until it was pointed at Kira. The rest of her team kept Pallas in their sights.
"Remove your hood," the woman ordered.
Kira glared at Pallas. "I blame you for this."
The woman advanced aggressively. "I won't ask again."
"Yeah, yeah," Kira muttered under her breath, reluctantly reaching for her hood. There was no point in continuing the charade now that her identity had been compromised.
Of all the things for Pallas to reveal, why did it have to be her name? It would have been easy to convince the humans that they were harmless if he'd just stuck to the script of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
There was a sharp inhale as Kira slid the hood back, exposing the burgundy of her shoulder length hair. Along with the face she knew had been plastered on more than one news broadcast during the war.
For a brief second, there was silence as Kira regarded the humans steadily.
Maybe her worry was for naught. Human memory was short and this group was young. They would have been only kids back then.
"I was right," the woman breathed, dashing that hope. Her muzzle dipped toward the ground. "You're Kira Forrest. You're the Phoenix."
