Honey? I lost my Qunari!

Saare's wonderful starter:
The small boots of the baby Qunari were slow, carefully crunching along the snow as she attempted to remember that night. She had quite the spill, and her memory of the day were fuzzy. Of course, she was being cautious, heeding the words of Anders after he exerted himself to heal her wounds. She wasn't nearly as in pain as she was in just the past day, and was well enough, in her own mind, to scout out for her missing notes. It was important to her, a small journal of doodles and writings for her studies, something she had hoped to show Ella of her improvements and dedication to honing her latent abilities. She was happy, and even as the trees stretched high into the sky above her, she was calm. Where was it? Every so often she bent down to look at the ground, brushing away snow with gloved hands in an attempt to maybe stumble upon the lost literature. At least she didn't lose her study material, some of those books she felt were valuable, but that journal meant a lot to her. It

was leather, dyed black, similar to one her father carried, and was a gift from him. Sure, another empty tome could be acquired, but she didn't want to disappoint her father with her clumsy antics. That's not what a Queen would do! "Come on..." She wished she remembered more. Bits and pieces floated in and out of her mind, the disorientation from that night had caused her memory to lapse on this, she remembered being carried back, slipping, finding some pretty rocks. But where? She stopped digging, getting up from her kneeling position and dusting the white particles off of her leggings. Not here, that's for sure. A small huff left her, and she was about to start again, but, the snapping of branches behind her made her pause. It was oddly quiet, save for the sounds of the chill wind winding through trees around her. Her eyes widened, freezing stiff as she held her breath in an attempt to hear anything around her. She mustered up what courage she had, and slowly began to reach for th

e wooden sword upon her back, pulling it out slowly. She knew her majestic blade would do no more than leave bruises, but maybe if it was an animal, she could scare it off. Once it was fully out, she twisted around quickly, an attempt to throw off any invaders, and pointed the tip towards...nothing. Her brows furrowed in a harsh scrunch, as if trying to look big and mean, something she was clearly not, but, she wasn't sure how to feel. Both relieved at nothing, but nervous that something was still there. She could feel it, that invasive glare from all sides. She didn't know why she felt it, something that had been coming and going for the past few weeks since she had went with her father and company to Kirkwall. But she didn't recall anything strange. The sword lowered, but remained out, holding it closer to herself as she backed up a few steps, head darting in all directions. She just wanted to get her journal, and go back to Skyhold. Maybe she shouldn't of left alone, but she neve

r traveled too far away from the Hold's walls. She always made sure there was a guard tower in view, to act as a beacon in case she managed to get lost. Some part of her imagined there was a helpful guard watching her, but, the gaze she felt wasn't kind. It was cold, and forward, like a starving man to a buffet before him, salivating at the mere thought of taking what they sought. She turned around and began to hurry in her steps, hopping over debris and rocks. She swore she could see figures shifting behind trees, when did this forest become so horrifying? This feeling was making her paranoid, panting more loudly as she began to run. And it wasn't until the treeline broke, and she was back at the opening where she had her spill that she began to feel a certain ease. Perhaps it was the snowmen that had been created, surely from Talia and the others who were trying to help her find her journal. There was no words she could use to thank them. The silly, lopsided lumps of snow distract

ed her mind for a moment, and gave her enough time to get clarity. She remembers being here, and having pelted her friends with snowballs. Maybe she dropped it around here, she began to move deeper into the center. She still looked around her, her wooden blade grasped tightly in both hands, eyes widened, and ears sharp. She was hiding behind a tree, but why? She paused near one of the snowmen, and pondered this, back to the snow as if it would be a wall to any danger. She...found a funny looking mushroom. It had a big cap, and tiny stalk. She was drawing it, wondering how it managed to stay upright on such a spindly body. It was behind a bigger tree, hiding under the base of the roots that had been exposed by time. Yes, she glanced left and right, until she recognized the tree. It must of fell out of her pouch after she claimed victory over her enemies (via snowballs)! Her movements were renewed, she just had to see if it was there, and if it was, or wasn't, leave right after. (c)
She could fight off the feeling for a little longer if it meant getting back to everyone as quickly as possible. She slid besides the tree once she was close enough, looking all around the base, until she found the spot where the silly mushroom was, hiding in safety from the snow by the wood above it, and within the little cutout, she spotted it. She thought that was strange, it looked deliberate. Did she put it there? It didn't matter, she reached in, making a quiet apology to the plants within and trying her best not to disturb them. But, it was back in her hands, a small sigh of relief as she looked it over. It was dirty, but, oddly enough, not damaged by snow. She opened the book to inspect the pages quickly, making sure each and every page was safe. Notes about her dad, everyone else, the magic she was learning, childish drawings. But she stopped after the last page she used, her heart sinking as her eyes widened in confusion. Af

ter the doodle of the mushroom, the next page contained a single hand print, dried blood used as the medium, with a circle of runic symbols behind it. The feeling of being watched suddenly felt heavier, "W-what is-" fffffFFFWHIP. She didn't even register the noise until it impacted the tree just beside her head, her eyes shakily looking towards the arrow embedded just mere inches from having ended up in her skull. There was a quivering whimper as a twig snapped behind her, and she turned to see a figure in a cloak approaching, the hood hiding their face, but the gold-ornate bow was not so subtle. "You've given us quite the chase, baby ox. But no more. I grow tired of it." The voice was rough, masculine, with little regard of where the arrows were going. Saare let out another whimper, pushing herself against the tree as tears welled at her eyes. "G-get away from me!" She screamed, pointing the wooden sword up at the mysterio

us figure. He let out a little chuckle, up until the tip began to spark with blue flashes of magic. "She didn't-". The sound of thunder cracked through the forest, the blue light flashing from Saare's sword as a wild bolt of lightning flew in the general direction, but her aggressor had managed to duck behind a nearby tree to avoid its impact. A tree was now ablaze behind him, his head turning to look at it, but as he looked back towards where Saare was, she was already up and sprinting back towards Skyhold. "Bloody hell, the Mistress is going to need to toss in a few more gold pieces for this." He nocked another arrow, and began to give chase, the small child's eyes now fully committed to her panicked sobbing as she rushed back to the safety of the walls, with a pursuer right on her tail. "Please...someone help!" She cried to the woods, putting every ounce of strength and muscle into her body into getting back to Skyhold.

Talia:
It was getting late, and Talia hadn't seen hide nor horn of Saare in awhile-- usually, around this time, she was prancing around the main hall (or the tavern), chatting up Marian or getting to know somebody new. It wasn't like her, to be gone this long. It could've been nothing-- honestly, it was probably nothing. She probably went out looking for that journal again; the poor girl was absolutely fixated on that, and nothing was going to turn her attention away. Perhaps, the little one got lost. After asking a few people if they've seen her around (and interrupting conversations while she was at it), Talia took it upon herself to take a look. So, she roamed around the grounds-- without any success. To the woods, then. After announcing her intentions to a few familiar faces at the tavern (in the hopes of, perhaps, recruiting somebody to find her body in the event that a pack of wolves decided to try qunari for dinner; rumor had it, the skin was tough but still edible.) No words could properly encapsulate just how grateful she was that Geralt, a real-live monster hunter, was happy to join the search! Oh good, that would greatly decrease their chances of dying a beastly-related death. With a breath to her palm, a small flame settled to provide some light, Talia called out the qunari's name as the group approached the woods, "Saare? Saaaaaaaare?"


Geralt:
He was never a big fan of snow. White Wolf, sure, but snow ended up everywhere and worse even when it melted and soaked parts of his body that were supposed to be protected. He grumbled, to himself. He wasn't one to complain much, but his heart was thumping against his chest and the ringing on his ears was too loud to have a thought linger there for too long. It was interesting how Geralt had spent more time with Saare somewhere else rather than Thedas. It was unfortunate, but she was also a busy child, training under the tutelage of the Inquisitor of all people. So when the Qunari Talia asked him where she was his instincts immediately told him something was wrong. Paternal feelin

gs of protecting a child rushed over his mind and he was quick to don his boots and the swords behind his back. Lucky for Talia that he was not just a monster hunter, but the best tracker he knew. He had tried to follow the girl not too long ago and had lost her tracks because the snow had melted, but it was late at night. It was colder than cold and the tracks were as clear as day to him. Before he left he gave the tavern keep a note, one of many that he would give the woman once he was away. He detailed when he left and where he was headed. How long it would take for him to get there and most importantly when he would, hopefully return as well as what he was up to. A sort of silent

apology for his daughter since she was upset at the way he didn't leave any messages to her prior to visiting Thedas. "Seems like she wasn't in a hurry." He spoke to himself, he turned around to grab Talia's shoulder. "Never shout when inside a forest, especially at night. You don't know what's lurking in the shadows." A life lesson for the Qunari -- perhaps. He turned around and continued following her tracks. "What did you say she was looking for? Her journal -" He was silenced by the sound of thunder that woke up the entire forest. "Something is wrong." He paused tried to hear the air around him trying to find clues as to where the girl might be.

Anders:
So there he was, sitting down at a table, poking at a dinner that he'd promised a grumpy archer that he'd eat, and studying his papers, whenever Talia and Geralt had come asking if he'd seen Saare. Briefly the mage recalled she had been the small qunari child he'd healed the other night, one whom had had a concussion; and a pang of worry dipped within his mind. No, he had not seen her, but given the way that the witcher was outfitted, it seemed there was to be a hunting party. While most would acclaim the man to be a monster, Anders was anything but - he was but a man whom had made a hard choice--but children were a weak spot for him. Especially previously injured ones. Had she harmed herself somehow, again? So he'd abandoned his research (after tucking it safely back into a folder and depositing it behind the bar), retrieved his staff, and donned his new feathered gloves and joined their little search party. "Would there be a reason for a young girl to be running around the woods at night?" He wondered aloud, his voice dropping to a curious whisper once the warning -- directed at Talia -- sounded between them. "Especially here at Skyhold. There's many a creature that could make off with her should they choose she looks like a good enough meal."

Ciri:
Ciri was, and always would be, loyal to Geralt. She'd reappeared back at Skyhold after who knows how long, to find that the barmaid had messages for her. Several. It seemed her father had taken her words to heart and decided that he would at least leave notice of his intentions and where he planned on going. The Witcheress casually read through them, leaning her hip against the counter, only to find the last and latest one, make a lump rise in her throat: Saare was missing. Now as was stated before, she was a loyal girl to her father and loved him dearly; but this little queen, someone with whom she'd grown quite attached, was in danger, and there was no way that she'd be left behind in the dark and not assist in finding her. Plus--she had brought back some souviners that reminded her of the bright little mageling! A perfect chance to give them, wasn't it? The crunch of snow was loud beneath her boots as she followed after the group utilizing some of the tracking skills her father had taught her [though she would never be as good as he]. She heard Talia before she saw them -- and from the night she'd appear in a flowing mist of brilliant green. "Hey." A glance at the others, while she aimed to pat leather-clad hand on her father's arm. "Saare out causing mischief again?"

Saare's other wonderful post:

Her lungs were on fire, moving as quickly as she could through the snow and dirt, heavy heaves of panic were forced out of her. Thwack! Another arrow into a tree beside her, making her scramble and take another direction, tears flowing down her face as she made her desperate attempt at survival. Each arrow that had been aimed at her, were intent to kill, and yet, she had always managed to avoid them. "Come now. You're barely putting any sport in it!" The man chasing her was making the situation worse, unaware that at some point, a party had been collected to come to her aid. No, he was told she was to be alone. But she was slippery, Saare doing her best to keep from screaming and giving away her position, perhaps both as a benefit, and a detriment. She was able to keep low to the ground occasionally, stopping behind a tree as a means to regain some strength, holding tightly to the secondar

y brooch she had Flavien make. Geralt had mentioned that Ciri was in the same realm, but, she had no idea where she was. She had disappeared from Skyhold for awhile, so she couldn't rely on its magical enchantment to lead her to her. Saare felt alone now, a hushed sob as her body trembled, and her free hand lifted to cover her mouth for a moment as she heard the sounds of footsteps in the distance. "So far away from home. You know you've been running the wrong way? Foolish Ox-child. No one's coming to find you." Had she really? Her eyes turned, the trees somehow have covered her original way home. She couldn't see the Guard Tower, and she bit her lip to look around. Every arrow missed made her turn, he had been missing his arm to make her disoriented. Her heart sank lower than before. She began to feel hopeless. But, she thought about those back at the hold. They were surely looking for her. She fel

t it. She had to hope, and hold on. The man walked into the open, an arrow ready to be aimed an fired. She had an idea, but it had to be quick. The hunter turned to look over his shoulder, his heated breaths escaping through his face coverings. "I'm getting rather fed up of chasing you through the woods, small one. Why don't you come out, and I'll give you a chance for some final words before you go wherever you bull-horned fucks go?" There was a snap of a twig, and he turned to face it. Wrong move, kid. Making a small strafe around the noise, he saw her coat, standing behind a tree facing away from him. She was looking the wrong way. He made a quick chuckle, and lifted the golden bow up, arm pulling against the drawstring with arrow in tow. He never was a good liar. It was released, the arrow flying through the air and hitting its mark. His smug look disappeared, as snow crumbled from the coat, lea

ving it pinned to the tree. A decoy? Suddenly, the ice beneath his feet became slick, the coatless Qunari child coming out from behind a tree closer to him, and after shutting her book, the tip of her sword went from a frosty tip to licked in flames. She let out a roar, pressing forward as a cone of flames fired out at her attacker. The attack had surprised him, his cloak now in flames, and the ice below his feet causing him to slip an fall as his screams filled the air. She stopped, taking a few steps back before running in the opposite direct. She was now without a coat, the chilly air biting at her skin, but he was distracted in attempting to put out the flames that engulfed him. She just had to try and figure out which was was home. "You FILTHY MONGREL! I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE!" She ran faster now. She knew it wasn't enough to put him down. She just hoped it was enough commotion to get attention.

Talia:
At his hasty correction, she immediately shut her mouth-- he was the expert here, after all. At least when it came to forest critters and beasts; to her luck, she hadn't encountered many that particularly wanted to be in the presence of people; nugs, rams, and even sensible wolves tended to avoid conflict when they could. Bears weren't so kind. "Sorry." She whispered with a grimace, "Yes, she's been looking for a journal she lost." Talia offered Anders a shrug-- he asked a valid question, why would a child be running through the woods? "I think she lost track of time-- but she's young, and brave." With that stubborn qunari will and focus as well. At Ciri's appearance, her expression brightened in acknowledgement-- well, this was quite the little group they had here, wasn't it?
The look on Geralt's face was focused, severe. More severe than usual, this was more than just a case of 'he was born looking surly and determined.' The way he tilted his head and commanded silence drove her to listen too. And finally, she heard it in the distance-- screams, followed by shouting. Talia couldn't quite make out the words, but the tone left little room for interpretation. Heart dropping to her gut, she gripped her staff in hand and hurried towards the sound.

Geralt:

"She lost her Journal? Why did she not ask me to go with her? She knows I'm a tracker." Dammit. He stands up and pauses when Cirilla appears. "Your Queen seems to be lost in the woods at night. I told her to not be so defiant. She said she had learned common sense from her father." Apparently he wasn't as bright as he was -- or the girl was starting to get feisty when it came to following rules. They were such simple rules. "Dammit." He hits the bark of a tree and notices something strange. Over yonder -- about 5 to 6 paces there were a different set of prints, those of a man. His stride was lax, but it seemed like he was trying to be sneaky. "These -- these aren't old either." He looked behind to the entourage they had formed. "Did you send someone to find her before you called me? " Geralt's voice was filled with all sorts of emotions -- mostly panic.. That's when he heard it. Screaming from deeper with the forest. His acute hearing could also differentiate two people running. "Someone is after her." With that he did stopped with the pleasantries and unsheathed his steel sword and started to run towards the noise.

Anders:
"A journal? I would think the best time to look for something lost is during the day, isn't it?" The mage mused, almost jumping out of his skin at the appearance of the similarly white-haired female that grinned at them and spoke with her father. That was his Cirilla. His daughter. What a wonderful bond the two of them had, to be able to joke in a time like this! The sounds of screaming filled the silence and put Anders on edge. "Andraste's tits!" He cursed, pulling his staff off of his back and taking off after the others. What state would they find Saare in? Would she still be alive? Everything in him was as cold as the outside with the fear that surged into his belly, not wanting to walk across a girl lying in the snow, killed by some unknown assailant. It was heartbreaking; it was a good thing that the healer had decided to come along, else if they had found her and she was injured, he could rid her of her wounds.

Ciri(ILYHER):
"She's out here? At night?" Her nose wrinkled, and she nodded in agreement to the strange man's words. Running around at night had been a thing that both she and Geralt had spoken with her about -not- doing, and the fact that she was out here... "Wait -- is that the one where she records her lessons with Ell?" But it seemed as if her question was not to come to pass for the screams--deeper, shrill, as if in pain--of a man reverberated through the silence of the night that startled the group. "Fuck!" Ciri also pulled her sword, taking off after her father slinging snow from beneath her boots. Already green licked at her body, eyes narrowing ahead of them as she headed in the direction of the noise. "I'm going ahead!" With those words, she utilized her Power, allowing it to tug her body forward through time and place her yards ahead of them. Nobody was going to hurt the little queen! Not on -her- watch! It was reckless, but times called for such reactions when there was a little life on the line!