Fickle fucking buffalo wing.
13
“The last thing any of us should be doing is sticking our noses into Gryphon business. Yes, we are obligated to help fix what our people did to them, but even if we have the best of intentions, they’re not going to see it that way,” a female Ouphe from the crowd comments, and everyone gathered in the center of the camp starts talking all at once again.
Several of them raise their hands to be called on so they too can voice their opinions. The middle-aged salt-and-pepper-haired lady who seems to be running the show here calls on a man.
“Even if we wanted to help, how are we supposed to identify which gryphons are good and which are bad?” he asks, and sounds of agreement from people around him rise up into the air.
I open my mouth to say that Lazza really is the only threat that needs to be dealt with, but if I can’t figure out how to break the Vow, one side will be fighting the other side, and this guy has a point.
“We could provide aid and healing to those who are willing to take it from us, but we can’t forget that many of the gryphons on both sides of this fight will happily kill us on sight. I don’t know whether we’d be of much help or more of a distraction,” a younger, pretty female calls out.
I release a deep sigh. I was hoping the Ouphe would be willing to help us, fight with the gryphons, and shore up the numbers against Lazza’s army, but I’m realizing that my hope was really fucking short-sided. I can see the willingness in many of the Ouphe’s faces, to help in what ways they can, but they make really good points about the fact that many of the gryphons who will be there won’t take kindly to their presence. There’s still a lot of work to be done on the front of Ouphe and Gryphon relations and peace treaties.
Wekun and I are leaning off to the side against a cart and watching the Ouphe have their say about what’s going on in the world between the Avowed and the Hidden. There are some gryphons spotted around the perimeter, including Ryn, Zeph, and Treno, but they’re keeping to the outskirts and staying quiet.
“They’ve hunted us to the brink of extinction; they can’t come to us for help now,” a man growls, and low murmurs of assent surround him. “No one came to our aid when we were forced to escape to this putrid wasteland and eke out our survival. Where was Awlon the Dark and his progeny then?”
The man spits on the ground, and I feel far too many eyes turn to me. Hostility ripples out toward where I’m perched, and it crawls up my skin in warning.
“No one person or bloodline was to blame for what happened,” Wekun interjects. “The Ouphe as a collective voted on the Vow and the Accords, and they passed with favor. We are all accountable for what our ancestors did,” he volleys into the crowd. “We must all work to do better and be better for our future generations.”
“Ourfuture generations?” the man argues, fixing his angry gaze on Wekun. “You only pop in when you’re here to pluck strings in a favor of a future only your kind can see. You ran for the gates and a new world, abandoning the rest of us to suffer and get picked off. Don’t talk as though we’re one people when you know that’s not true.”
Wekun shakes his head, like he’s disappointed. “Are we back to that again?” he asks, scanning the crowd like his question is for all of them. “Some Sentinels chose to leave, others chose to remain, what happened after was the consequence of that choice, on both sides. How is one side held accountable for the tragedies the other suffered? Tierit and its people have also known hardship and struggle; we’re hidden from the world there, just as you are here. Blaming others for our problems serves no purpose,” he points out, and the gathered crowd grows quiet.
“I think we’ve had our say,” the leader of the camp announces, her eyes fixed on me and Wekun. “I don’t think we are in the position to truly help. You should speak to Cree and the Gryphons, they would be in a better position to help,” she tells me, and I nod.
“Thank you for trying at least,” I offer, but she just looks at me weird. I remember that the Ouphe and Gryphons aren’t big on manners and just smile at her and wait for the crowd to disperse enough for Wekun and me to take off so we can go speak to the gryphons.
“Is Cree the female with the cool mohawk and scars?” I ask Wekun as we’re waiting.
“The very one, although you might not want to bring up the scars.”
“Oh, is she sensitive?”
“No, but it will start her down battle memory lane, and we could be there for weeks as she tells stories and forces us to drink.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Yeah, I’m not going to lie, I could be down for that.”
“You’re just trying to get out of training,” Wekun accuses, and I shrug, not even trying to deny it.
“I still don’t understand why I can’t just work on things on my own,” I grumble. “I’m not saying that they can’t get rune lessons too, but it doesn’thaveto be together,” I point out.
Wekun went and organized a little group training with me and the mates I apparently can’t escape. I was glad to hear that Zeph was doing better and working to embrace what happened and find a way to make it work for him, but I’d prefer they did it far away from me.
“Get over it, Falon, it’s time to Sentinel up and do what needs to be done,” he announces, slapping me on the ass like I’m some obstinate horse that needs to get a move on. Three growls simultaneously fill the air around us, and I roll my eyes and rub my ass cheek.
“I should let them take you out,” I threaten Wekun, who simply glares at me, unamused by the joke.
“Then you’d really be stuck with them,” he points out as he takes the lead through the remaining crowd in the direction of the gryphon camp.
“When are you going to go have your little chat with the other Bond Weaver in Tierit anyway?”
“When you are good enough with your runes that I can leave for a couple days,” he calls back over his shoulder.
Well, crap then. Guess it’s time to Sentinel up…whatever that means.
