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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sparky" data-source="post: 2234414" data-attributes="member: 13681">Oliver’s stomach rumbles as the group picks its way toward the Glades. He plays a simple duet with Tatlock, teaching the lad some of the whistled signals the soldiers of Hedrogura use. Signals stolen from the rogues of Hedrogura. He pats his stomach and takes a deep breath, riding easily. Winkle is perched on his saddle bags, warbling and spreading his wings tentatively. The young owl is nearly pure white now, only a few patches of down gray adolescent tufts remain. Bastrop plods along quietly beside Oliver’s rangy warhorse, Whistler – named that in honor of Shavah, who, as a favor, had saddled Oliver’s curious mount, only to find her new flute mouthed by the curious animal. Oliver smiles to himself thinking of the flourish of choice words Shavah spouted as the company laughed at her reaching up to take the flute from the horse who tossed its head, and the silver whistle, just out of reach. And he chuckles as he remembers Shavah's furious flush as Nurthk murmured to the animal and calmed it easily and handed her the horse-mouthed flute. Though it was Raven who'd given the horse its name, making Shavah turn a startling shade of purple.A feeling of unease settles over the old man and his smile slips. He peers into the woods unable to shake the sense of being watched. There! He looks and the imagined shape is gone. Don’t look directly at it… he focuses into the middle distance somewhere near where he’d seen the strange silhouette. Yes… there.He pats Whistler on the neck and says, “The wardens of the forest have turned out to greet us. Off to the right, and high. I only see one. But they’re like rats; for every one you see, there are a dozen more. Doesn't seem hostile. Yet.”He unfocuses his eyes and swings his shaggy head to and fro, searching out other lurkers. He scours his memory for anything that Arrowyn might have told him about the elven guardians of the Glades. Or anything he might have picked up listening to the tall tales of bloated nobles. They were sprinkled here and there with facts, from time to time.</blockquote>

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