With the elf cooperating and walking along with him instead of resisting, Ryathane slowly led her toward the edge of the clearing, his own posture and pace compensating for the extra weight and Aeylisia’s hopping motion.
	Ryathane looked to her as she tried to reassure him through clenched teeth, the closeness of their faces making the tightness in her jaw easier to see. “Uh huh.” The shadows of the trees darkened as they left the small clearing and entered the denser trees. “And you know this by, what, studies, experience, or some sort of connection between you and it?” He glanced down as she half hopped, half walked forward, and smirked. “You’d make a great rabbit.”
	[i]Maybe she [u]can[/u] be a rabbit,[/i] The elf in her wolf form entered his mind. [i]Wonder if she can turn into any animal.[/i]
	The amount he knew of elves--or, rather, the lack thereof--again set his nerves on edge, making his shoulders stiffen. After all, she had turned a branch, a thing of wood, into a sword. A sword even a peasant would not purchase, but a weapon of metal nonetheless. All the stories he had heard conveniently failed to mention that little ability. Shapeshifting, sure; they were creatures of the earth and nature, after all, but [i]object[/i] transfiguration? 
	He glanced down once more toward the tattered skirt over her wounded leg. He did what he could to both put more of her weight on him and hurry along their odd trek.
	Finally, they reached the large tree he had chosen for his so-called camp. He stopped and looked up. “Here we are.” He stopped with a smaller tree near Aeylisia, and nodded to his chosen headquarters. “Tree sweet tree. Since I assume you can’t exactly climb, I’ll grab my pack.” He released the hold he had on her hand and waited for her to remove her arm from his shoulders.