Leto leaned forward in the tree and glanced up ahead. his grip on a higher branch kept him from falling out and his strong legs left him feeling assured that even if he did fall he would be fine. His amber eyes scanned the sky, the dark clouds heavy but unlikely to birth any rainfall this day, he saw many birds circling in the distance but that was hardly unexpected. The forest, often called the Blackwoods, was alive this day.
Along with the sounds of animals, rustling leaves, and gusting winds, were the faint trills of flute music. Leto's low bent long ear flicked of its own accord at the melody. Leto was a satyr, a creature possessing the traits of both man and goat, and as any good bard will tell you a satyr loves music. The young satyr smiled, though it added little charm to his long face, and hopped from the tree he perched in.
He landed with a surprisingly light thud on the ground and stepped lightly forward in a springing hop. When he landed again he heard a harsh sound, that of stone on metal, and glanced down to see the iron horseshoe on his hoof. Though, horseshoe wasn't really the right term as Leto's hooves were cloven and rather than a bent peice of metal he wore two small marks of metal to protect his hooves. The metal had nasty looking spikes at the sides that looked dented and damaged.
Leto kicked the rock he'd stepped on aside and looked forward to getting rid of the metal shoes soon. they were useful to be sure on a harsh March or for stopping someone to death but they hurt more often than not and looked too cruel for Leto's tastes. Putting his mind back to the music, the satyr began bounding through the wood, hopping from stump and mound until he came to a small clearing in the forest. It was made by his people and many tents were cast up in a chaotic fashion around many different campfires.
All around the Satyrs seemed at ease... even with the occasional pained bleating of the more graciously wounded. Leto greeted several of his fellow satyrs, calling them brother and sister though their parents differed, as he made his way around the clearing toward a dark red tent held up by old twisted wood. The sounds of pain and stench of sick came thickest from this tent. Stepping inside, Leto looked around and was sad to see so few wounded.
He took no joy in the pain of his fellows... but he knew how big their herd had been the day before. With the number in the clearing and those in the tent barely half of them had survived the battle. Maybe less still if those in the tent perished as well. Leto spied an older man with long horns ambling in the back of the tent over a young satyr missing a leg. Leto unconsciously touched his own twisting horns, thinking of how small they felt to him, and then tried to imagine life without being able to run or bound. He looked away from the crippled young man and instead looked around for his friend.
Adlas wasn't far off, propped up near the middle pole of the great tent with his hand held firmly at his side. Leto carefully navigated toward his friend and crouched down to greet him. Adlas seemed to be dozing if his soft breaths were any clue so Leto looked over his friend's condition. Taking away the pale color of his skin, the sheen of sweat, and the red stain on his side Adlas remained one of the more handsome satyrs in the tribe.
Certainly more so than Leto. Satyrs generally came in two flavors: those that looked more human and those that looked more beastial. Adlas' mother had been a nymph which grunted him a beautiful human-like face. His soft features but strong chin drew a lot of admiration from the ladies of most races. Leto sat well on the opposite end of the equation, his face long and his nose wide and more muzzle than anything else. His body was strong but sported course hair up his back down his arms and naturally all down his legs. Adlas had perfect rounded ears while Leto's ears flopped and twisted at every sound. Looking at the two they made a perfect pair to demonstrate how unfair the lottery of appearance could be.
Leto leaned forward and poked Adlas in the forehead. The satyr groggy opened his eyes and seemed to take a long moment to focus on Leto before smiling a devilishly handsome grin.
"You smell like shit." Adlas said.
"That's you moron." Leto replied grumpy.
"... So it is. Why're you here? I thought your group made out okay?" Adlas asked, his eyes quickly scanning Leto's body.
Leto cocked an eyebrow and poked his friend in the forehead again. "Oh we did. I just came by to see if you were gonna be fit to dance tonight."
"Probably not tonight. But soon. Give Raona my apologies." Adlas said, pricking a sore subject between the two.
"Tell her yourself you ass." Leto said scowling.
Yet after a few seconds the sour satyr also broke out in a grin. Leto had tried courting Raona years ago but she only had eyes for Adlas. They'd bickering and fought over it but the hurt of it all was already old and they only really brought it up in jest now. Leto reached behind him and rummaged through the pouch at his side until he pulled a few flowers with thick stems from his side.
Sun lilies.
Adlas' eyes widened and he quickly reached out and took them from Leto.
"Where did you get these? I thought the pigs burned them all?" he said in awe.
The sun lilies were a golden flower grown by elves. They ruined most animal's sense of smell and were how the armies of men had gotten so deep into the Blackwoods before they were spotted. The Orcs hated the things and took to burning them after the fight... but truth be told they were divinely delicious to the Satyrs.
"I tracked where the humans had come from and hunted around. Figured a few must have dropped their lilies in the march and I was right." Leto said proudly. He was a fairly decent scout but his tracking had never been anything to boast about. Thankfully it wasn't hard to find the tracks of a whole army.
Adlas looked at the flowers and then offered one out to Leto as he chomped another down. Leto waved the flower off. "Please, you think I didn't already eat the first few I found?" he said arrogantly.
He hadn't and in truth he very much wanted to take one for himself or maybe even Raona, but he could smell his friend's wound and it wasn't pleasant. Leto had been in a fair few battles now and he knew when a stomach wound was going sour. Adlas probably did too. The fact that he was sitting alone with such and injury while the healer fussed with others... not good signs.
Adlas shrugged and started eating. It didn't take more than a minute until all the flowers were gone. "Man... that hit the spot. If you find anymore bring em to me." Adlas said shamelessly.
"If I find anymore I'll bring them to the first pretty girl I see. You can find your own." Leto snorted.
Adlas started to laugh but it turned into a pained sound as he clutched his side again. "Leto I- I think I'm going to take a rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Adlas said as red ooze seeped between his fingers. The color was too dark and the smell only grew stronger.
"Sure. Just sleep the day away while I get all the ladies." Leto laughed.
Adlas closed his eyes while chuckling. They didn't say anything else but neither moved. Adlas' breathing started to come more shallow. Farther apart. Slower. Until they stopped altogether.
Leto put his hand into his friend's dirty hair and pressed his forehead against Adlas'. He cried for his friend and for himself.
After a while the side glances of the healer weighted on Leto and he stepped away from his friend's body. He gave a respectful bow to the healer and a friendly nod toward the body of his friend before leaving the tent. Outside the satyrs continued their dances and flute playing. They circled the campfires and laughed around barrels of wine. But dotted around Leto could see the shadow of mourning. Satyrs standing alone or with small groups crying.
Many would walk up and hug or hold these people. Some left while others stayed. It was as if they took turns grieving and celebrating between themselves. It was their way.
Leto worked his way through the crowd and found himself a horn of wine and a pretty girl to dance with. She was born to a satyr, you could always tell with the females because if her mother had been a nymph she would have been one too. Nymphs only gave birth to male satyrs or another of their all female kind. Still, she must have had some nymph farther up her family tree because she lacked many of the more animalistic traits that Leto knew so well.
As they danced Leto noticed two things about her right away. She had no interest in him sexually, hardly a surprise since even for the more beast satyrs Leto wasn't particularly handsome, and that she had been crying recently. She could likely see the red tint to his own eyes. So they danced, and laughed, and drank, and enjoyed the mood. When the parted she ran her fingers into his fur as he ran his own into her hair. they pressed foreheads together and were still for a moment.
Then she drifted away toward her next dance or cup of wine.
Leto looked at his own empty horn and decided to refill it as well. From a different barrel than the pretty girl. It would be one thing if she'd been interested in him but following her without interest would be rude and likely end up with him butting horns with another satyr. Some men liked that sort of challenge but Leto wasn't one of them. So he found a barrel, only half full already, and reached in to fill his horn. When he glanced up he spied Raona watching him from the other side of the barrel.
"Have you been to see him?" She asked. Her eyes were like rubies and her cheeks wet with tears.
"Yes. I was ther- yes. I saw him." Leto said. His own voice betraying him for a moment.
Raona stepped around the barrel and hugged him, her arms strong and athletic as her fingers met behind his back. She pressed her face into his shoulder and sobbed once before Leto gently returned the hug. After a seven beats of their hearts they pulled back just enough to press their foreheads together and then stepped back.
"I'm sorry." Leto said, not really sure what he was apologizing for.
Raona just smiled softly.
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small pair of beaded bracelets. She gave one to Leto and then fixed the other on her small cute horn. Leto looked at the bracelet and recognized Adlas' handiwork. He had made it, the beads carved meticulously with small pictures. Stories of them together.
"He wasn't sure you would see him before he..." Raona said before drifting into silence.
"I was... looking for sun lilies for him. It took a while." Leto said lamely.
Raona took the bracelet and fixed it to his own horn. It dangled down and kept catching his attention in his peripheral. It was annoying, just like Adlas... Leto smiled and she'd another tear.
Raona put her hand into his own and pulled. He followed her toward the campfires as she smiled at him. "Come dance with me."