***As the title of this RP log might suggest, having these two characters interact without one trying to kill the other is...well...definitely the last thing one would expect. That said, enjoy! :)***

***Quick note to the readers: Boma has never introduced himself formally to Kieran--for good reason. Kieran only knows Boma as Rattleshirt, the nick-name that was inspired by Boma's distinctive bone armor. In other words, Boma = Rattleshirt. :)***

***Another quick note to the readers: I don't consider the OOC chatter that goes on, even when it has direct bearing on the RP, to be worthy of wading through. You came for an entertaining story, and that's hopefully what my logs will provide.***

LV: Waterfall(#524R)
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Perhaps an old flood carved away the earth here, leaving a sudden drop that the valley's stream falls over, chiming merrily. Whatever the natural reason, the little waterfall is certainly lovely. Although the drop is at least five feet, large, moss-covered stones keep the water from falling in an unbroken sheet; instead, the creek laughingly skips from level to level before wandering off down the valley. Trees shadow the area, draping their long limbs overhead -- although winter has left them asturely bare.

[South], the creek continues, splashing along between its banks.
Nearby, where the stream has been diverted, is the colony's water[Mill].

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Boma sits cross-legged on one of the larger various moss-covered stones perched at the edge of the waterfall, toward the center of the stream of water. The red sunlight as it sinks into the horizon reflects across the rushing water around him, and the pool that lay beneath. One paw holds his sword, and held upright, tip resting on a randomly selected piece of driftwood, while his other paw props his head up on his knee, as he sits somewhat hunched over, crimson gaze cast distnatly forward and downward as if mesmerized by the red rippling sunlight off the waters surface below.

~Good, I got out here at just the right time,~ Kieran thinks as he looks up at the sky and the colors of the setting sun. He's been coming to the falls a lot of late, especially at dusk and dawn, when the world is painted with the multicolored light of the setting or rising sun. The beauty is one part of this place that appeals to him. The other is the solitude and silence. This is where Kieran comes when he needs a place to sit and think and not be disturbed, and he's needed that a lot
since leaving the Guard. The rat begins his climb up the stones along the steep little hill the waterfall goes over. They are slick with snow and ice, but Kieran climbs carefully and doesn't lose his footing or his handhold. At least, he doesn't until he reaches the top...and spots Rattleshirt sitting on *his* rock. Kieran freezes, not sure what to do--to run, or to stick around and watch the sunset.

Boma's ears perk slightly, as Kieran emerges from behind the steep slope. However he makes no movement to regard the rat. In fact, save for the slight twitch of his ears, its hard to tell whether or not Boma even detected Kieran. After several long
minutes of sitting deathly still, he eventually turns, letting his red eyes gleam, and almost glow brighter than ever before as the red dusk sunlight glints upon them. Boma lets out a soft 'huff' of a breath, which may or may not be heard over the din of the rushing water over the falls, before Boma turns back to contemplating the rippling and glinting water below at the base of the falls. He too seeks a bit of quietness, and solitude and isn't about to let it be interrupted by one he knows to be hot-headed unless otherwise provoked.

Kieran stays perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe, watching for some sign that Rattleshirt saw him. When the seated rat swivelled his head, Kieran made ready to leap back down to the ground and run, anticipating...something. Well, that something never came. A bit confused and more wanting to actually sit down and watch the sunset, Kieran climbs the rest of the way up the slope. He watches Rattleshirt out of the corner of his eye as he makes his way to an alternate spot--some large protruding tree roots. Kieran scrambles up to the top of the largest and sits down crosslegged to watch. He keeps flicking his eyes back in Rattleshirt's direction, however.

Boma makes no further motions to show he is even paying attention to Kieran, even as he moves to an alternate spot to sit. Boma remains sitting deathly still, as he seems to do often when not active in means toward an end. it seems, Boma isn't concerned about Kieran's presence at all. Eventually after another group of long minutes has passed, Boma sits upright and brings his sword in front of him, the piece of driftwood seems to be affixed by friction to the tip of the blade. Boma for the time, stares into the eyes of the skull adorning the pommel of his sword. As if contemplating it, or waiting for it to give him an answer to an un-spoken question.

Kieran simply sits, and watches, taking in the colors as the sky goes from bright red-orange, to the color of blood, and finally begins turning purple-black as the sun sinks lower and lower. He's not really able to enjoy the beauty, though. Kieran finds himself on edge knowing that Rattleshirt is nearby, and that the other rat is armed and armored as usual while Kieran is unarmed. Being ignored so totally gives him no comfort, believing as he does that Rattleshirt's motives can never be trusted. Still, the colony rat is not about to try and attract attention, and so he remains seated quietly and tries to think of something else.

Boma's lips curl into an almost sinister grin, as he leans his head forward, pressing his forehead against the rat skull adorning his sword, and lets out a light audible chuckle as he brings the skull closer to his ear on the side Kieran is, making it as if Boma is listening to the skull 'whisper' into his ear. When he draws the skull and sword back in front of him, he lets out another chuckle, sounding much more amused at whatever the skull has 'said' to him. Promptly, Boma raises, and turns in place, before settling back into his cross-legged position, this time, crimson eyes peering directly at Kieran. Boma has shifted his sword as well, resting the tip in the cloth of his cloak at his hip, and snugs the blade up against his side, and under his arm with the skull situated right up against his own, both rat, and 'skull' peering toward Kieran through the darkening twilight.

Kieran starts a little bit at the sudden chuckle from Rattleshirt and tears his eyes away from the sky to look at this nemesis of his. What he can see in the gathering gloom are Rattleshirt and the skull pommel of his sword staring back at him through the darkness. Kieran finds himself wondering what sort of leer is on the other's face, and how long it'll be before he becomes dinner. The colony rat doesn't look away from those red eyes, doesn't move, doesn't speak. Kieran simply sits, waiting, and more on edge than he's been up to this point.

Boma's crimson gaze continues to peer intently and unblinkingly for several long minutes. The low light still enough to cast those familiar crimson glints and gleams from his red eyes. If a gaze could bore through a body, Boma's would. Eventually the
hand on the side his sword is tucked raises, palm heel cupping up under the chin of the skull, fingers curling around to brush and stroke gently over the smooth curve of the skull's head, and down over the face. Eventually, he draws in a deep
breath through his nose, and says with a slanted smile "You're nerves and patience has hardened, Scout." he says in a low growl, that might sound like little more than a low growl to one not paying intent attention to him.

Kieran finds himself wondering just how long this staring contest is going to continue. He catches the movement of Rattleshirt's swordhand and tenses up, ready to dodge, but then relaxes when nothing happens. The rumble of Rattleshirt's
voice as he finally speaks comes as a surprise. Especially since it sounds...like a compliment? Kieran frowns, not quite sure how to respond to that. "I h-h-haven't b-b-been a s-s-scout in w-w-weeks," he stutters quietly. "I d-d-don't w-w-want t-t-trouble. I j-j-just w-wanted to w-w-watch the s-s-sunset." Somehow feeling that he's not truly in imminent danger, Kieran relaxes and tears his eyes away from Rattleshirt's.

Boma chuckles lightly, his voice raising a bit as Kieran respons in kind to his statement, confirming to him that Kieran had been intensely paying attention to him. "Just weeks? I would have guessed longer." he says back in a low, slow and sinewy tone. A bit of a jab hidden slightly to his otherwise 'innocent' sounding statement. He goes quiet for a few additional moments to your request of not wanting trouble, and wnating to watch the sunset. "If you recall, Most times we've met, I've claimed not wanting trouble, but it was brought otherwise. Of course, I sometimes have a bit of an... unorthodox way of saying 'hello.' He holds his previous position for now, gaze still affixed on the other rat, sitting as still as ever, save for the lightly fidgeting fingers of his hand upon the skull.

Kieran snorts at the jab, but says nothing. It's just not worth it. The rat's claim to having an 'unorthodox' manner of saying hello provokes an outright laugh of derision from Kieran. "G-g-greeting t-t-total s-s-strangers b-b-by k-kissing them is unorth-th-thod-d-dox. Y-you're s-s-sadistic." The rat sighs a little. "I w-w-won't ap-pologize f-f-for m-my p-past actions, or th-those of the other g-g-guards; y-you g-g-gave us ev-v-very r-reason t-t-to t-t-treat you as a th-th-threat and n-none t-t-to th-think y-you w-w-weren't." Absentmindedly, Kieran rubs at the scar on his thigh that Rattleshirt gave him that past summer.

Boma grins lightly and lets his free paw raise to his chin, rubbing it lightly in thought as he rolls Kieran's words in his mind. "Mmm Perhaps you're right. Though I wonder if one, using your example, did greet a stranger with a kiss. Would as great
an assumption on one's overall character be applied by that greeting, as mine inspired in you?" he glances down, noticing the shift in Kieran's paw on his thigh. One corner of Boma's lips curl in a smirk. "I hope the rest of your peers that are
strangers to you at the colony get more benefit of the doubt than I was given." he goes quiet again, gaze returning to your paw on your leg. "You asked for that scar. That meeting was never intended to go as far as it did. You forced my hand." he
says, almost in a apologetic tone.

Kieran quirks an eyebrow. He's having a civil discussion...with Rattleshirt. ~My world really *did* get flipped inside out...~ he finds himself thinking. "L-let m-m-me ask you h-h-how you'd r-r-react t-t-to b-b-being sh-shot at, or s-s-seeing s-s-someone y-you're s-s-supposed t-t-to p-protect th-threatened," Kieran fires back, a hint of anger in his tone. "C-c-colonists ins-s-sult me; th-they d-d-don't t-try t-t-to f-f-feather m-me," he answers when Rattleshirt makes his comment about giving others the benefit of the doubt. "Y-your int-t-tentions w-w-were h-h-hard t-t-to r-r-read, at b-b-best. I w-w-was d-d-doing wh-what I th-thought I h-h-had t-t-to." Kieran falls silent, not really wanting to continue down memory lane like this. Grabbing a stick, he begins sketching randomly in the snow with it.

Boma's head tilts lightly, light again glinting from his crimson eyes. He lets out an audible 'hmmmm' in contemplation. "It would seem, our environment, and possibly upbringing have skewed both of our perceptions of reading actions toward opposite ends." he says. Hinting a little at his past, but for the moment, going no further. His lips do curl into a broader grin, before chuckling out lightly as a portion of your statement strikes him. "If I had 'tried' to 'feather' anything but planks, and tree-trunk, I would have with my first arrow or two. Of that, I assure you. 'Fish in a barrel' as the humans might say." he too, falls quiet for several long minutes. "I hope my Brave little mouse has been making the colony proud." he finally says, speaking up again.

Kieran rolls his eyes at the further mention of the incident at the CSP. "Wh-whatever y-you s-s-say. The p-p-past is p-past, and it d-d-doesn't m-m-mean a d-d-damn th-thing n-now." Kieran falls silent and continues to draw, really only keeping half an ear on the conversation, such as it is. His head shoots up at Rattleshirt's last statement. "H-h-he's n-not 'y-your' b-b-brave l-little m-mouse," he snaps. "D-d-don't t-t-talk ab-b-bout him as if y-y-you c-c-cared."

Boma grins lightly and chuckles as he nods lightly. "Fair enough.... Perhaps you would care for a chance to steer this...... conversation?" he asks the thought of actually having a decent conversation with Kieran striking him odd for the first time as well. His ears perk, as Kieran almost seems to get rabid over his last statement. "Mmmm Either way, he is little, and brave. Uncommon to find such qualities together. He is indeed a rare breed, and worthy of admiration."

Kieran snorts at Rattleshirt's offer to 'steer' the conversation. "J-j-j-just h-how m-m-many ch-ch-chats d-d-do y-you th-think s-s-someone who s-s-sounds l-like m-m-me s-s-starts?" he asks, shaking his head. "Y-you w-w-want t-t-to t-t-talk, t-t-talk. I d-d-don't c-care." The colonist sighs and nods, unwilling though he is to agree with Rattleshirt's assessment of Timothy. Kieran scowls a little, thinking how Timothy might not have had to show that if only he had been a more competent soldier but says nothing.

Boma grins and shrugs his shoulders lightly. "The opportunity was given. It was passed up. Do not turn your nose up at conversation, when you refuse to help craft it." he says in almost sagely advice. "I presume all you see is good fortune that I've yet to rend you into ribbons." he inquires, without really expecting an answer. At the very least, not an honest one.

Kieran rolls his eyes as Rattleshirt waxes philosophical, not quite believing what he's hearing. When Rattleshirt poses his question, Kieran nods. "Y-yes, th-that is ab-b-bout all I s-s-see. B-b-but the f-f-fact th-that y-you h-h-haven't c-cut
m-my lungs out is m-making m-me th-think y-your c-c-claims of n-not w-w-wanting t-t-trouble are t-t-true," he stutters in reply. If there's one thing the ex-guardsrat still is, and has always been, it's frank and honest when answering a question.

Boma can't help but chuckle out deeply at your reply, his head even arching back slightly in the process. "Mmmmm, will wonders ever cease." he says with a smile. "Where I come from, that conclusion would have been a given after all the times I
had more than ample opportunity to cut your lungs out, as you put it." he says with a more sinister smile. "Of course, killing, and using pain as a teaching tool are two sperate things. Violence, is not often in my best interest, you see.
However sometimes, it is a bit of fun."

Kieran listens in silence, saying nothing and doing nothing. He shudders a bit at the memory of waking up and wondering if Timothy and Xavier were still alive, or if his idiocy had cost the two their lives. After Rattleshirt finishes his little
speech, silence stretches for a few long minutes between the two. Then Kieran finally speaks. "Wh-what are y-you s-s-still d-d-doing ar-r-round h-here? I th-thought you'd h-h-headed off h-h-h-home w-w-weeks ag-g-go."

With Kieran's question, its Boma's turn for an extended silence before letting out a slight sigh. He reserves speaking well after the sigh, trying to decide how much of an answer he should give, and just what information to express. In truth, he's not entirely sure why he's here, or specifically, what he's looking for. "Mmmmm that, is a tough question... Why I'm here.... eludes.. me....." his lips curl into a more cutting grin as you mention him heading 'home.' "One first needs a home, in order to go there." he explains as he moves his sword, and lays it across his lap.

Kieran merely nods as Rattleshirt answers the question, but inwardly groans at the prospect of having him around Thorn Valley for an indeterminate period of time. As the other rat reveals that he apparently has no home, Kieran finds himself surprised at his lack of concern or empathy. The stuttering rodent says nothing more, and has no further questions to ask.

Boma takes a deep breath in through his nose, before letting it out through his mouth in a long breath. With a shrug, he slowly raises to his feet, and turns, facing back out over the waterfall again, and standing at the very edge. It seems
Kieran's question almost has hit a few troubled points in Boma's past. At one point, Boma is so close to the edge, one might get teh impression he was considering jumping.

Kieran watches as Rattleshirt rises up and moves over to the very edge of the precipice. The colony rat knows the outsider won't be jumping off any time soon, but he's hoping for it, anyway. "G-g-go in that w-w-water and y-y-you're a d-d-dead
r-r-rodent," he calls, much to his surprise.

Boma's head lifts up, having been peering down at the water below. His head turns, and looks back over his shoulder at Kieran. Lips curling into an almost sinister smile. "That wouldn't be concern for me I hear, would it?" he asks in a taunting tone of voice, as he turns back toward Kieran. "I like to think I have a bit more strength to survive than you give me credit.... and a cozy place to dwell and warm up." he says, hinting a little to the conditions of where he spends his nights.

Kieran quirks an eyebrow. "Y-y-you d-d-don't g-g-give the c-c-cold its d-d-due, then. Wh-wh-whatever. Have a n-n-nice d-d-death." At this, Kieran raises his good paw and gives Rattleshirt a farewell wave.

Boma chuckles lightly and shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time." he shoots back, not specifying to which statement Kieran made he was referring. He remains standing, facing Kieran as his arms cross his chest lightly. Blade held in one paw, with the
blade resting along his upper arm, the curved blade curling back slightly over his shoulder and neck. He spends a few long moments intensely regarding Kieran, saying nothing further for now.

Kieran has nothing further to say to the other rat at this point. He also doesn't feel like sharing Rattleshirt's company any further and slips off his seat on the tree root. He turns so that his back is to Rattleshirt and begins to move away
into the trees, at this point not caring what the other rat may or may not do. Abruptly, the colony rat stops and turns. "Wh-wh-what y-you s-s-said ab-b-bout T-Timothy...d-d-did you act-t-tually m-m-mean it?" he stutters, surprised that he cares, and even more surprised that he's asking the question.

Boma grins as Kieran turns away, and chuckles softly. About to say one of his near trademark taunts, when Kieran stops and turns around. Boma's head tilts with curiosity. His smile grows at what Kieran says. "What do you think?" he asks first, out of curiosity and gives a moment or two for Kieran to respond, or not before giving his full answer. "You may not think I have much honor, or sincerity, but I make it a habit of keeping my word, and meaning what I say." he replies, in something of a round-about way before hopping up briskly onto a fallen log, connecting the rock in themiddle of the stream to the shore near where Kieran was seated.

Kieran shrugs at Rattleshirt's non-answer. "I t-t-trust y-you ab-b-bout as f-f-far as I c-c-can th-th-throw y-you, so n-no, I g-g-guess I d-d-don't b-b-believe you," he stutters in reply. Kieran watches as Rattleshirt approaches, naked blade still
in his paw, and considers what the other rat just said. "Th-then...if y-you d-d-do r-r-resp-pect him, w-w-will y-you at l-l-least h-h-have the d-d-decency t-t-to l-leave him al-lone?" he finds himself stammering.

Boma continues to walk along the log, casually making his way closer to Kieran. "A fair answer, I suppose, Given our history." he says thoughtfully before continuing, his arms uncrossing and letting his cloak fall around him again, blade
partially obscured. "I'm afraid, that such a bargain would be strictly between him and I." Boma explains in part, again.

Kieran nods a little. "So b-b-basically, n-no, y-you w-w-won't l-leave h-him alone. S-s-so m-much for m-m-meaning wh-what y-you s-s-say..." he stammers in reply. For the moment, Kieran doesn't move. He just stands there in the snow, watching
Rattleshirt and keeping an eye on what's happening to that sword. The rat grimaces a bit as the wound that blade inflicted upon him twinges.

Boma chuckles deeply as he continues to make his way closer to Kieran. Almost as if stalking the other rat. "Mmmm Oh, I mean what I say. Meaning what I say, and what you consider decency are two different things. You're hardly in a position to make
bargains for others, without their knowledge or expressed consent. As common decency, would suggest?" he says, while turning Kieran's argument back on him a little. His paw shifts the blade in his hand, letting the blade glint in Kieran's direction within the waning light.

Kieran glowers at the other rat. "Wh-what, y-you th-think T-Timothy enj-joys h-h-having h-his l-life th-th-threatened?" he fires back. "Y-you d-d-don't know the m-m-meaning of d-d-decency. If y-you d-d-did, I w-w-wouldn't h-h-have t-t-to ask y-you t-to l-leave T-Timothy al-lone." Kieran remains where he is, still watching the blade, however. Not that he'd be able to get very far if things turn ugly. Then again...Kieran realizes he doesn't care if they *do* turn ugly. That sends a shiver down his spine.

Boma laughs, his voice echoing through the air lightly. "You call that threatening to life? One who shows as much wear and tear of from the world around him, you should know the definition of life being threatened. I may be a great many things, but a murderer of children, Especially ones brimming with bravery, I am not." he says in what almost becomes an angered sneer. As if Kieran's even suggestion that he would murder a child is enough to bring his blood to a boil. "I hold my word to the one it concerns, whom is the only one I make bargains with."

Kieran narrows his eyes at Rattleshirt's reply. "Wh-what I s-s-see as l-life th-threatening and wh-what T-Timothy s-s-sees as life th-threatening are t-two d-d-different things." The ex-guard grinds his teeth for a few moments before continuing. "Y-you c-c-can c-c-claim t-t-to n-not b-b-be a m-m-murderer of ch-child-dren, b-b-but y-you s-s-sure as h-h-hell f-f-fooled T-Timothy. Y-you n-never s-s-saw the l-look on h-his f-f-face, or the f-f-fear in h-his eyes wh-when you s-s-seemed r-r-ready t-t-to t-tear h-his th-th-throat out!" he snarls. The rat's shoulders slump. "...I d-d-don't kn-know wh-why I'm w-w-wasting m-my b-b-breath. G-g-go home. G-g-go d-d-dive off the f-f-falls. G-g-go t-t-to hell. I d-d-don't c-c-care. J-just l-leave the m-mouse b-b-be." That said, Kieran turns his back on Rattleshirt and again makes to head into the trees.

Boma stops. Gaze boring itself into Kieran as the other rat has his turn to sound angered. Except, Boma's lips curl into another grin. When Kieran finishes, and turns, Boma lets out a single, sharp laugh before responding in a slightly louder voice. "and because of that instance, My brave little mouse will have even less trouble standing up to true evil in his adult years. He will be -STRONG- and Brave! It seems only I can see his true potential. Yes, he is innocent, weak and young. For now. Would you rather he lean strength in the face of true danger! Or Perceived danger with one who would be ashamed to follow through!?! As he finishes, he's nearly shouting.

Kieran whirls around, enraged, and stalks right up to Rattleshirt, sword be damned. "I would *r-r-rather* h-he never have to worry ab-bout anything like that! EVER!" he screams, getting right in Rattleshirt's face, his rage all but eliminating his stutter. Kieran continues through gritted teeth, muzzle twisted into a scowl. "He deserves b-b-better than to be a d-demented l-loner like you, or to wind up twisted and h-hideous like me!" The rat takes a few moments to calm himself down before saying one last thing. "I *know* wh-what f-f-facing d-danger can c-cost; T-Timothy sh-shouldn't have to p-pay that price."

Boma grins lightly, seeing a reaction from Kieran as the other rat spins around and storms up to him. His sword doesn't move and lets Kieran get close. As Kieran stops speaking, Boma's free hand jerks upward to make a grab for the other rat's throat. Not intending to injure, or prompt a fight, but to draw the other rat in closer, as he leans forward. "It would take much more than I would ever do to a child, to turn them like me. You know -NOTHING- of the forces, and torments that crafted me. Do not even pretend to think that you do. Never, will I see my brave little mouse used, and cast aside by true evil. -NEVER-" he says, before letting Kieran go (assuming Kieran let Boma grab him) with a light shove, and several huffed breaths as he too calms himself.

Kieran jerks back as Rattleshirt goes for his throat, but not quickly enough. Oddly enough, though, Rattleshirt gets more of his tunic than his actual throat. Kieran is not going to try and fight back, knowing it'd be futile, and braces himself for some final blow. Instead, however, Rattleshirt keeps speaking. The colony rat blinks a bit as he's spat upon, but does and says nothing until he is released and shoved backwards. He takes a step back to regain his balance and stands there, quite silent, for a long time. When he finally speaks again, his voice is much quieter and the stutter has returned. "Th-then I g-g-guess y-you d-d-do unders-s-stand wh-why I w-w-want t-t-to k-keep T-Timothy s-s-safe."

Boma turns, and takes several steps away from Kieran, back toward the other rat. His free paw flexes, clenching into a fist and releasing before clenching again and repeating. One can visibly see Boma's chest and shoulders raising and falling until he fully regains control of himself. Boma is quiet for several long minutes after Kieran speaks, until his thoughts are again his. Boma's voice too, is much quieter with his next words. "Relying on others, is not a weakness. Not having the strength and resolve to do what is needed, both for yourself, and for others, is." he says as his head leans forward, looking forlorn.

Kieran can't believe it, but he finds himself agreeing with Rattleshirt. ~Hell must have just frozen over, or something...~ he thinks to himself. "Y-you're r-r-right ab-b-bout that," Kieran stammers. "But th-th-there are b-b-better w-w-ways t-to p-prep-pare f-f-for th-those s-s-situations than b-b-being h-held h-hostage b-b-by s-s-someone w-with s-s-strange m-m-motives."

Boma shakes his head, as his sword disappears beneath his cloak as he lets out a light sigh. "No preparation or training compares to experience." he states simply, before beginning to walk away from Kieran, toward the trees.

Kieran snorts. "You th-th-think I d-d-don't kn-know th-that?" he demands, very surprised to find himself *following* after Rattleshirt. "T-t-training s-s-sure as h-h-hell h-helps y-you s-s-survive every exp-p-perience." His piece said, Kieran stops, not really wanting to continue following after the other rat or continue the conversation. He does not turn away immediately, however, but plans to do so if Rattleshirt shows no sign of wanting to talk further.

Boma stops for a moment and pauses, though not turning around to face Kieran. "One cannot even begin to train or try and prepare to face evil. One thinks they can, but its never as they expect. Facing it, and surviving is the only way." he says
this with such a profound conviction in his voice, that its not much of a stretch of the imagination to tell he's speaking from experience. Upon the end of his statement, he begins walking again.

Having faced off with Ranger a time or two and lived to tell the tale, Kieran thinks he's got an idea of what it takes to meet evil face-to-face. He says nothing, however, and simply starts making his way through the silent woods, heading for
home.