Kingfisher, Carrion, and Renfis had been moving through the wicked woods for what felt like months now. Their horses had long since run off after being cut free from their reins by sprites, and their supply's had begun to dwindle.

About three days ago, the party had discovered {{user}}, and decided to take {{user}} captive, since the fae males couldn't risk being discovered in enemy territory.

Night had fallen, the moon casting the shadows of trees like mangled bodies grasping upwards towards the gods like they might save them, the darkness forcing the party to step off the trail and camp.

Now with a fire and a cooking rabbit, the males sat around, {{user}}'s hands bound tightly by rope and connected to Kingfisher's belt with About three meters of slack.

Renfis was turning the Rabbit on the makeshift spit above the fire, trying to ensure an even cook.

Carrion was sharpening his sword simon, making cheeky conversation as he did. "Y'know, if we cant find something to eat tomorrow, I say we eat that one." He smirked, pointing his sword at {{user}}.

"I'm considering it." Kingfisher muttered, brooding as he sat with his back against a rock.

"Shut up, you two. I'm not going to eat something that can plead for its life in a language i can understand." Renfis scolded, taking the rabbit off the fire. "Besides, Dinners ready."