Ryathane raised his brows doubtfully when Aeylisia said she could build her own fire. He stood there for a moment, arms crossed, and watched as she did her best to collect what she needed from around her.
	“Fair enough.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug, then collected the empty burlap sack that created a dark lump against the grass. He could come back later for his traps, if any of them still remained intact. He looked to the elf when he heard her soft whisper. “Yep,” he answered laconically. At least she had bothered with a thanks.
	He quickly put his gloves back on and collected the still damp hooded scarf.
	“I should be back in about an hour or so.” He slung the burlap sack over a shoulder. He started to head toward the edge of the forest, but paused, realizing Aeylisia had no weapons. He bent down and removed one of his stiletto daggers from his boot, then stuck it in the ground within the woman’s reach. “Just in case. But I want it back.” With that, he headed off into the woods toward the manticore.
	Once the elf was well out of sight, he stopped to glance back. 
	“What am I going to do with you?” he muttered to himself. With a sigh, he hurried to where they had left the manticore. As he emerged into the area, a couple foxes scurried away, but the motionless mass of the offending beast’s body was still there.
	Ryathane gave a sigh of relief. Though there were few monsters in the woods that could have run off with a carcass of that size, he was in no mood to contend with a hungry wolf pack. 
	He let the items he held drop to the ground, then reached into the pouch at his belt. He pushed aside the crinkled wanted poster and pulled out two small, empty glass bottles. He paused, glancing to the paper, then scowled. With an irritated snort, he went to the monster’s tail to collect as much of its venom as he could. That would fetch him a pretty penny. 
	He worked as quickly as he could, careful to not poison himself as he handled the deadly tail. Despite his careful attention, his mind wondered again to the question he had posed to the night. The elf would take a couple days to heal, which would provide ample time to find a means of dragging her to the royal city. Crazy or not, the reward the king offered was enough to make even an honest man question his morality. And she could provide the perfect ticket to get him inside the castle, to ferret out the truth of what was going on behind the closed castle gates. 
	[i]She saved your life, you nitwit,[/i] a small voice whispered in the back of his head, [i]and you’re thinking about turning her in?[/i]
	His face stuck in his scowl, Ryathane did his best to push aside all thoughts of the elf, focusing instead on the task at hand. Once he had one glass filled to the brim, and the other just under that, he carefully placed them back in his pouch, drew his sword, and stepped to the beast’s front.
	It’s eyes were glazed over with a milky film, staring unseeingly at one of its murderers. Blood dripped down from where Aeylisia had shot it beneath its left eye, the liquid dried in its matted fur.
	“You [i]really[/i] could have done with a bath,” Ryathane told it as he swung his sword a couple times. He could smell the feral stench of it from a yard away. “Off with your head.”

[center] *	*	*[/center]
	Ryathane knelt down by a small stream that ran through the woods, his sack, sitting on the bank beside him, now bulging with the manticore’s head. Though it had taken him longer than he would have liked, he had managed to attain his proof of the beast’s death.
	Ryathane took his time cleaning off his gloves and the scarf in the water, then, picking up his prize in one hand, he headed back to the camp, weariness weighing at his eyes. He saw the fire Aeylisia had managed to make and somehow maintain long before he entered the area. Without a word to the elf, he dropped the sack on the ground across from her, red soaking into one side of it. He sat the wet gloves and scarf near the fire, then collected his backpack. He plopped down on the hard ground, leaned against the pack like a pillow, and stretched his arms out over his head with an exaggerated yawn.
	“So, who’s got first watch?” he asked, crossing his legs at the ankles in front of him. He doubted he would be capable of getting to sleep with her nearby, even if he had planned on it. “You or me, Princess?”