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"We wait for Dran. He come back with Rabbit." She answers happily. "We have fun today. I not need to hunt. I show you forest it beautiful."

Findalsip will pray for his spells for the day.

"That would be nice," says Linar. He goes about finishiing his spell studies.

Dran returns shortly, a bit of squirrel fur stuck to the side of his mouth and face. The freed folk rise and help carry the remaining boar rations that evaded the black bear from last night. The party sets out through the forest, and the weather proves to be fairly pleasant if a little windy. By midday they have made good progress, though stomachs begin to rumble. At their current rate and with no interruptions they should be able to make Quel Salas by dark.

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It is now midday. how does the group wish to proceed?

Linar nods, "Fine."

"We get there quickly. More fun." Rubbing Drans head she moves along each movement an exercise in economy.

Traveling the trail she extracts the Chiefs axe from it's position on her back and gives the weapon a good practice swing. "Me not use to chop trees, use to chop Nisser heads." She calls to the forest and gives the Group a "Cheshire cat" grin.

Findalsip does his best to keep up with the group. Trampling about he was happy for the shade he could find under trees and the other green things to shelter him from that bright blazing ball in the sky. He was ready for it to go away once more so existence could be somewhat more civilized.

The group distributes some of the leftover boar and continues their march as they take their meal. Those weakened by their ordeal the previous day slowly regaining their strength and moving with the aid of the others. Katten and Dran lead on Westward, the way more familiar to her now than it was a couple of days ago. She finds her landmarks and follows the small trail markings from before, inexorably towards the small community.

The day takes on a gray cast and slightly cooler air moves through the trees, perhaps indicative of an early summer storm. The day wears on, the scent of rain in the air as the light fades little by little. The ranger becomes increasingly certain that they are very close...

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Anyone who wishes can make a Wis check (-2 penalty unless you have tracking or observation nwp)

Moving through whatever shadows there are, Linar looks around.

OOC
Observation 18 [1d20]=12

Nocturno bringing up the rear, makes sure no one falls behind or anyone is following.
Wisdom(15): [1d20]=6

Ability Check [1d20]=8 wis 14.

[1d20]=3
Findalsip looks around during the journey but has absolutely no clue what to look for amidst all the greens and browns. He is thankful for the cool breeze that brings some relief from that hot orb that is being somewhat hidden by clouds. He gives a prayer of thanks to Calladuran for the relief.

Linar and Fin get the feeling of being watched, as if some powerful predator lay in wait. Nocturno casts his gaze above at a slight fustling sound that seems to defy the wind, and the three spot a shuffle of movement in the upper canopy. Jordek glances around as well, Chitt's tiny nose wiggling as it tests the air. Bull's hand instinctively moves near his throwing spikes as he searches the trees for danger.

Katten recognizes the subtle sounds from her last trip, the protectors of the village. The Elven woman Nelenwe sighs as if a heavy weight she had not remembered carrying were suddenly lifted. Celegal her son, searches the branches above as well, pointing in excitement and relief. The owls, we're home!

With a form suggested, the observers suddenly make sense of the shifting figures in the branches above... Giant Owls, bodies easily the height of a full-grown human, watch unblinking and motionless as the group approaches. Nelenwe smiles and nods, Home indeed. Where you see one of the Great Owls, many more are sure to be nearby. Several of the others look on in wonder, though several seem unable to spot the owls due to their natural camouflage.

Bull smiles as well, Ah, I see them now! Glorious beasts... Signa himself has one such companion at our first meeting. I admit, I was so inspired I made certain my new familiar scroll was crafted specifically to attract avians. I only hope one similar to they will answer when I am ready. he says.

Nelenwe cups one hand to her mouth and whistles a strange call like that of a bird, though the species is unfamiliar to all.* Shortly a call of the same type returns as they continue their approach.

A soft rustle is the only sign as an Elven man in some sort of modest uniform moves from behind a tree 40 paces or so ahead, his blonde hair touched with a brush of red. Quite a gathering you have collected, Ranger... he says, the barest hint of a smirk. Katten recognizes the scout from her last visit, though she never did learn his name.


[The guard not saying 'look what the Feliz dragged in' took considerable restraint for me...]
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*Katten has only heard this call used by Elves of Quel Salas near the village itself. Supposedly it is the call of a bird that is both very rare and seldom vocal. She does not even currently know the name of the species.

If any of the other NPCs recognize the call they give no sign

Linar moves slowly and deliberately, kepping his hands away from his weapons.