The early days of the Sad'ri saw more bloodshed than most would imagine. The Sangir ruled as far as Nachid, and cases stretched through the rural wildernesses to the heart of Balawey. The battles spread throughout conversation. Wild, frantic, painful. Impossible to prep for, impossible to safeguard, reliant on survival and reaction and that alone. Not one tactic worked, not one method was assured — every encounter was to the death. Some days it was the Sangir, dying with more mutated wheeze. Sometimes, it was a hunter, dying with a scream. It was frequently said they sounded the same.

The memories were clear to him even know. The scream, the screech, the tear, and snaps, the blood soaking the floor as it oozed and squeezed and splattered across the floor. So brightly red against the grass, so matted in the creature's fur. It sank its mouths again, another crack, another snap, another desperate howl of pain. Hunters ran around the beast, pelting it, but it did not move - as he turned to look at him, eyes wild-

“… Noelle?”

The voice came sudden, but gentle. Noelle turned to see who was responsible, now suddenly aware of his surroundings again. A cabin in the Sad'ri keep. It had been days.
“Mm?” he grumbled back. The voice had come from a man he was now all too familiar with. Wore pirig fashion, despite not being one himself. Dark brown curled hair, deep brown eyes, an eclectic fashion sense of orange furs and elaborate garments that lead to much of his stomach showing. It was Matija, someone who had become now something of a pain. Noelle sighed.
“… Saša.”

“Yes!” Matija awkwardly laughed, nodding as he began to walk into Noelle's room. It was sparsely decorated, only weapon racks and a small tub for cleaning them in the corner beyond and bench and bed. It stunk of blood.
“You know my name! That's good.”
Noelle rose from his chair, his hooves hitting the floor with a click.
“Everyone does. What do you need?”
“Nothing-” Matija began, raising a hand as if to demonstrate a point, before Noelle cut him off.
“— Good. Then get ou-” Noelle intercut, before Matija cut him off. This time, he put his finger against Noelle's snout.
“— for myself, I'm here for you.” He said proudly, tapping Noelle's nose before settling his hands at his side.
“… Great,” Noelle grumbled, rolling his eyes as he went back to where he was sitting on the edge of the bed.
“If you're here about my brother, don't bother. Everyone's given their condolences. Don't need any more”
Matija looked on, approaching tentatively.
“… Yes and no,”
“Still a yes,” Noelle baaed, shaking his head.
“Well, everyone's noticed you've been cooped up in here,” Matija mumbled in reply, lightly stepping to Noelle's side. Noelle barely moved to acknowledge him as he scoffed in reply.
“So they send you?”
Matija finally sat down next to Noelle, lightly, like his bed might be trapped.
“… Again, yes and no. I've actually come with a proposition.”
“No.” Noelle flatly replied, looking down at his hands.
“Hear me out,” Matija urged him, “please.”
Noelle shook his head, keeping his mouth shut. Didn't seem much to Matija. He sat in hopeful silence as it stretched painfully between them — it took barely a minute to break it.
“I have an expedition,” he announced, turning to Noelle, who was still intent on staring at a piece of floorboard then looking at him.
“I plan on going to the Dullahan Hills too inves-”

It was then Noelle animated. The second the syllables formed, Noelle's eyes widened, before he whipped round to Matija, almost catching him with a horn. Matija braced for Noelle's immediate scolding.
“— Dullahan? Are you *mad?*”
“Ah- ja ja ja ja! That's why I'm here!” Matija quickly lifted his finger again to silence his companion. “I… Was wondering if you might want to come. I need arms, and it might be nice to-”
“— No.”
Matija looked at him blankly.
“You haven't even considered it?”
Noelle shook his head.
“Don't need to.”
It was then Matija sighed. “Come on now! We have travelled before, you didn't hate it. Besides, it would be nice to be out of-” he searched for the words, and in failing to find them, motioned semi frantically to the bare room of armed weapons. “— this for a bit! I have got other minds, other warriors, it'll be a break that lasts a few moons and then you can return. It's just… I am not the only one who had noticed you sour, and Dullahan has *spectres*, yes, but I have travelled there uneventfully before, and it might be a break from the…”
Noelle grunted.
“… Slaughter?”
Matija looked at him from the corner of his eye, before motioning with his hand.
“… Yes.”
Noelle grunted.
“Still a no.”

Matija sighed, deciding to count his losses as he stood up, throwing his hands into the room.
“… Well. Suit yourself.” he bemoaned, and turned on his heel, leaving with a swirl of a cape that was far too elaborate for the situation. For a moment, Noelle sat there, looking back at the spear in front of him. He considered it. The way it slipped from his hand, the way he scrambled for it again. The scream that came from a swipe of a paw that only existed for that moment. The first blood splatter. The scream. The blood. The frantic panic.

“… Matija?”
Matija turned back to look at him expectantly. Without turning, Noelle spoke.
“When do you leave?”
Matija lit up into a beaming smile.
“My good man-!” he launched, before stopped once more by Noelle.
“- NO. Just tell me.”
And so he smiled and nodded.
“Alright. Tomorrow at noon from the West Gate.”
Noelle replied with one simple nod of acknowledgement, grumbling back, his eyes remained.
“Give an hour. I'll be late.”
Noelle didn't see it, but Matija shone with pride as he replied.
“1 past noon it will be! We'll wait for you.”